#//she baked and cookied a lot when she was alive ^^

[lcftcult]

@hashtag-bitch || x

What could she do? Black Star had an arsenal of skills, though they were mostly redundant to what someone of Velvette's status would desire, let alone care about. So the sinner furrowed her brows as she tried to come up with something, anything, that the Overlord would like.

She furrows her brows, looking thoughtful while her tail slowly swished from side to side. After a minute, Black Star thought of one of her special skills. Both her elbows are propped on the table and then she clasps her hands together. Following a hum, Black Star asks "do you.. like cookies?"

[quarterlifekitty]

cooking was mentioned but I kind of wonder how the cod men would react to reader bringing them cookies/some sort of pastry they know they like. Ive also had the idea of price getting turned on watching reader knead bread dough stuck in my head for some reason.. or ghost coming home to the smell of freshly baked pie (or something similarly wholesome) with blood still caked under his nails.... wrapping those large hands around my waist while i'm making the crust.. ughhh..sorry just- housewife reader who bakes treats and takes care of and dotes on a big military man and gets fucked senseless in return is so stuck in my head.

So I’m going to use this opportunity to speak gratuitously about Ghost’s relationship to food. Others have spoken of it at length before, but hopefully I will be able to add something new!

So we all know that Ghost did not have a happy childhood. He did not grow up in a secure home. He did not grow up with means. He was not nurtured, nor was he nourished. He enlisted at the first opportunity, and I think he nearly cried from being able to eat three, full meals a day that weren’t even that bad.

The next section of his life is a bit better in regards to eating, but not great. He knows where his next meal is coming from, and he doesn’t have to worry about there being enough to eat. He’s a grown man with a paycheck, he can buy food if he likes. But we all know the cafeteria food and MREs are demoralizing. They’re edible, but nothing more than that.

The first time he has leave, has to stare at the walls of his own empty studio and live for himself with the means to go grocery shopping as much as he likes— he’s at a total loss. No one ever taught him what he should be eating. No one ever showed him how to wash mushrooms. How to cut against the grain of a cut of beef. How to separate an egg yolk from the white. How to reduce a sauce. How to make sure scrambled eggs don’t overcook by taking the pan off of the heat.

So he starts very small. Eats like a college student. Lots of microwave shit. Works up to cooking himself some eggs. Almost moans at how good they are when it’s freshly cooked, on toast, and there’s no eggshell in it, and no one is yelling at him while he eats, he doesn’t have to hurry and get moving— it’s a really beautiful feeling he’s never gotten.

And maybe he had a neighbor at this time. Some older woman who noticed that the apartment that sat dormant most of the year had an occupant. One that still looked like a kid. Wore fatigues. Clearly didn’t have a family to go home to, if he was hanging around here on his shore time.

So she starts feeding him. Giving him a portion of what she makes for her own family. Casserole, cakes, stroganoff— anything. And Ghost will never forget that. The unparalleled joy of being given food from someone’s own home. Something they made. Something good. The food always tastes better when it isn’t mass produced. It always tastes better fresh. And it always tastes better when it was made by someone who cares.

The trajectory of his life and career don’t afford him much time. He spends most of his leave time cooking. Experimenting with recipes and learning. But that’s still such a small minority of his life.

When you, the fresh face in the 141 start bringing in food regularly, Gaz jokes that you’re buttering them up— trying to get in their good graces. You’re warned that Ghost is a hard won man. The truth is that no one has really tried home made lemon bars on him before. And they work like a charm.

Maybe a year or two later, you’ve gone on leave for maternity. You’re moved in together. It’s his first deployment without you working at his side. His first time coming home, and actually having someone to come home to.

And the house is alive. He can smell the currant and blueberry pie in the oven. You’re playing music in the kitchen. The house is so warm. There’s an unfolded blanket on the couch. The couch has a spaghetti stain on one of the arm rests.

And you. In loose pants and an even looser shirt with your bump visible. There’s blood under his nails. He smells like sweat and hot old dirt. But here you are, making the perfect nest for him. Not minding when he lays his head on your shoulder, embracing you from behind while you idly check the sauce simmering on the stove.

So are you getting fucked tonight? Baby, you’re getting fucked while that pie is on the cooling rack. You are getting railed after dinner and then you’re getting railed after dessert. And then you’re getting pounded in the shower and then he’s taking you in your fucking bed. And if you weren’t pregnant before, you definitely would be now.

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 2) / Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 16.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: part two!! thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sweet, lovely feedback i got on part one, i was so happy you enjoyed the opening chapter!! this part gives some more backstory on reader+bradley, and i hope you like it just as much as you did the first! once more i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you to everyone who said something wonderful and kind about the first part, it meant a lot to me. <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Instead of your alarm, you wake up to a call from Carole. It’s 7:29, and when you raise the phone to your ear, your voice is gruff and achy with sleep.

“Hello?”

It feels just like yesterday. Yesterday, that comes flooding back to you in a barrage of awful memories. All that’s changed is the bed you’re in; you’re still alone. You almost miss Carole’s response because you’re slowly taking in everything that hits you like an anvil from above, but you catch the last word and can discern her meaning.

“-visit?”

“Yeah,” You rub your eyes, feeling tears already gathered there; a great way to start your morning.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” You confirm, and your alarm buzzes against your head. You hastily shut it off and yawn, only inducing more tears and sighing as you speak again, “I’m gonna run to the store real quick, get some stuff for cookies. He convinced me to sneak them in.”

“That boy,” Carole huffs, and even half-asleep, you hear her voice laced with fondness for her son, “Alright honey. How y’doin’?”

“Um,” You ponder, truly unsure as your fingers pick at a stray thread on the blanket; you’d been meaning to replace it for months. “Okay. Not okay, but not- not as bad as yesterday. I think-” You swallow, throat convulsing, “I think I love lying to him if it means I have him back.”

She’s silent for a moment, letting your words sink into your own brain. You feel guilty for them, just like you feel guilty for leading Bradley on, pretending nothing is wrong when your entire lives have fallen apart. But she eventually responds with all of the kindness and love she has inside of her, which is a lot.

“I know, baby. And it’s okay, it’ll get better. It’ll turn out right.”

“I hope so,” You breathe shakily, wishing either her or your boyfriend (pretend boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?) were there to rub soothing circles into your back. 

“I know so.” She promises, and she’s never promised something she couldn’t guarantee. You hope this isn’t her first strike, because her never-ending optimism miraculously lifts your dreary spirits until your chest doesn’t ache with a sob begging to break free. “Alright, baby doll, I’ll let’cha get to baking. I’m gonna see if they’ll let me sneak in early, I- Oh! Nurse,” She calls away from the phone, and you hear her move on the other end, no doubt chasing down a poor nurse that doesn’t want to get fired for letting her in before visiting hours. You hang up the call with a snort, fond of how her fierce love for those around her hasn’t faded in all the time you’ve known her.

Pulling yourself out of bed is hard, but you do it for Bradley. You’re sluggish as you traipse to the bathroom, using deodorant in place of a shower and brushing your hair back into a ponytail. Showers are for people who have the luxury of time, you need to bake fast, and get over there to see if Bradley wakes up remembering anything new- er, old. You hope that he doesn’t, and then you hope that doesn’t make you a bad person.

One of the things you love about the place you’d shared with Bradley is that it’s close to a shopping center with a grocery store. It means that you walk to the supermarket, sandals on your feet and ratty, day-old clothes still on. No one seems to mind when you grab a basket looking like you’ve risen from the dead, and you collect the ingredients for Bradley’s favorite cookies with a skillful, experienced hand. You haven’t paid for anything by card in a while, you’d used emergency cash for the motel, and you wonder if you’ve been locked out of your joint bank account. Probably not; if the state of Bradley’s place had been any indication, he wants you back. But you’re cautious using the card anyways, in case a big red screen comes to life on the monitor in front of you and tells you you’re a terrible girlfriend. Almost a terrible wife.

You’re glad that you don’t run into any of your neighbors on the walk back home, because you don’t want to explain why you look the way you do, nor do you want to burst into tears when they ask where Bradley and his car are. You keep your head down and avoid the trike on the front walkway, ducking back into the house without being spotted. 

Firing up the oven feels heavenly, maybe because you’ve been eating scraps of motel food for two weeks. It reminds you of all the times you’ve baked with Bradley, or, more like the times you’ve baked while Bradley steals pinches of sugar from the bowl or tries to lick the beater when there’s raw egg in the mixture, resulting in more batter in his mustache than in his mouth while you try wrestling the spatula out of his grip.

You go through the oatmeal raisin motions absentmindedly; a master at your craft. It frees up brainpower to reminisce, and you sort through a mental file cabinet to find your favorite memory of baking with Bradley.

--

“I want to try the vanilla,” Bradley reaches for the teaspoon in your hands, and you jerk it away, thankful that it isn’t full of the brown liquid yet.

“Absolutely not,” You laugh, “Brad, it’s gross by itself. It’s like eating straight cocoa powder, it’s meant to be mixed in with something.”

He pouts, he actually pouts, a man of 36. The expression has his mustache hanging over his lower lip and you can’t help but giggle at it, leaning in to kiss the prickly hair on his face.

“You’ll have a cookie to eat soon,” You promise him, dumping a teaspoon of vanilla extract into the mixing bowl. He plays satisfied with your answer, but when you turn your back to fold the mixture in on itself with a spatula, you hear rustling behind you, then the click of a cap, and a muffled gag.

“I told you,” Your voice is sing-song-y, and you turn amusedly to watch Bradley duck under the sink’s faucet, rinsing his mouth out of the bitter taste. He’s scowling when he comes back up for air, water dripping from his mustache as he crosses his arms.

“I thought it would be good.��� He mutters, and you nod, humming as a bit of batter smears over your thumb from the spatula.

“That’s because you didn’t listen to me,” You lament, “I know everything, Brad. You should just listen to me, always.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, share some wisdom with me, Almighty One,” He teases, pushing off of the counter to join you at your own, “What should I do?”

He moves with his arms crossed, standing just close enough that you know the only answer you can give.

“Mm,” You pretend to deliberate, really leaning into it with a few contemplative taps at your chin, “Kiss me.”

He gasps dramatically, which is the way that he does most things, “Excellent idea. You really do know everything.”

“Mhm,” You nod, craning your neck up as Bradley leans down to kiss you, “I told you. Listen to me all the time.”

“I will,” He promises, “Quick, tell me we should have sex.”

“Bradley!” You gawp, an incredulous laugh oozing out from your chest, leaving behind a snail trail of joy, “You’re insatiable! We’ve already gone twice today.”

“Mm, can’t help it,” He tsks, backing you into the counter and kissing you once more. His lips press firmly to yours, his hands at your waist caging you into his embrace, “Honey, you taste much sweeter than that vanilla shit.”

--

When you come to, you’re putting the cookies in the oven. You’re alarmed at how zoned out you’d been, but evidently you hadn’t burned the place down, and you shut the oven door, setting a timer on the microwave. You tackle the dishes next, using the time that the cookies bake to tidy up your work station. The dough comes easily off of the mixing bowl and the melted butter drips over your fingers before you scrub it away, still slightly warm from the microwave. There’s only a few plates in the sink that you hadn’t dirtied, and you wonder if Bradley had washed and dried dishes while you were away. Or maybe this was it, four plates of food in two weeks. You’d been treating yourself that way, but it’s heartbreaking to know Bradley had, too.

You try warding off your incoming bout of sniffles by retreating back to your bedroom, choosing a new outfit to wear to the hospital. If you show up in the same thing, Bradley might worry about you, and you don’t want him thinking you were too sluggish to pull yourself together for him. You’re hurt, wounded and scarred with lashes over your heart, but he’s the one with the broken ribs and the lost memories, so you need to play the part of the strong one; the uninjured one.

He can’t know you’re hurting in case he asks why.

Your shower is quick, and you try not to think about Bradley in case you succumb to the urge to cry. Of course, it’s impossible to chase the thoughts from your head, and the feeling of your fingers scratching shampoo through your scalp turns into the feeling of Bradley’s. The hand that slides down your side suddenly isn’t your own anymore, it’s a memory of his. A ghost of him, a whisper against your skin of ‘I promise, baby. You won't lose me’.

You hope more than anything that promise stays true.

You get yourself ready to go with more zeal than you’ve felt in the past two weeks. You’re taking the bus today, to cut down on gas money, and you’re sure you’ll spend the whole time worrying. You’re nervous about seeing Bradley, but it’s a few minutes past eight-thirty and you’re sure if he’d regained his memories, Carole would have notified you. Beyond the nerves you’re almost excited to pretend to be his girlfriend again, excited to live in the fantasy life you’ve created to preserve his peace of mind. You never thought you’d love to lie to him.

You’re much more put together today when you greet the receptionist, and you're not sure you could forget the way to his room if you tried. There’s a bag of the oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in your purse and you slip into the room just as a doctor leans over him to take his temperature.

You adore the way Bradley smiles at you. His eyes meet yours as you stand in the doorway, previously cautious and now elated that he seems to like you still. His face lights up and he calls, ‘Baby,’ alerting the nurse to your presence.

“Miss Mitchell!” The woman greets you, the one who’d brought Bradley’s dinner last night. 

“Hi,” You gush, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that’s made of pure elation. It’s a sickly sweet sound, one that you thought you’d never be able to make again after leaving Bradley. You rush to kiss him when the nurse leans away, scribbling down his temperature on his chart.

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek when you kiss him and the tears that line your eyes are happy ones; there’s still time. There’s still time to soak in his love before he remembers, there’s still time to lose yourself in this fantasy.

You take a moment to breathe after the kiss, doing so against his lips. He does the same, and you bask in each other’s presence, noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. Skin-on-skin, love-on-love.

“His heartbeat really did speed up,” Carole marvels, and you scramble to greet her, guilty that she’d slipped your mind in the rush of emotions you felt.

“Hi! Hi, sorry,” You stammer, wrapping her in a hug while she waves away your apologies.

“No worries, baby!” She squeezes your shoulders, beaming at you. You’re sure she’s thrilled you showed up, and you know Bradley is too from the way he grabs for your hand when you sit by his bed. He’s always been a touchy guy, his hands are never idle, but he’s never been quite this clingy before. It’s good, it helps ground you, and it’s what you need after a two-week bender in a motel.

“Brad,” You coo, unable to resist kissing him again when he turns his head to face you in the bed. He looks more comfortable today than he had yesterday, no more breathing tube or pale skin. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but you’re sure he’s still shaken up from the crash, and you’ll make sure he gets to sleep nice and early tonight.

If you’re able to.

Once you’ve kissed him you dot smaller ones across his face, heart soaring at the gentle laughter that spills from his lips as you do so. You kiss his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the space beside his eyes that’s wrinkled from years of laughter, and when his pretty brown eyes flutter shut, you go for the eyelids, too. You savor each one because you know it could be your last, and when he strokes the back of his hand along your cheek, you lean into the touch.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Newly showered, you felt more put-together than you’d been before, but you’d spent the past two weeks in a pigsty of your own creation, so the compliment means more than he knows.

Apparently, he feels your cheeks grow hot, too. His fingers pick up on the warmth and he laughs again, this time only a normal amount of raspiness clinging to the sound., He’s hyper-affectionate, taking his chance to dot kisses over your features for a change. The giddiness in your chest as his lips press to your skin, mustache prickling it, makes it feel like your heart will burst. You feel undeserving as he showers you with the affection you’ve missed so much, but you’re greedy so you take it anyways, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Carole was taking pictures of you in secret.

“I have some good news,” The nurse reports, and you turn at her voice. She’s angled towards Carole, obviously having meant to leave you and Bradley be in your couple’s reverie, but when she notices that she has your attention too, she speaks to the group.

“Nothing abnormal was documented during your stay here,” She reads off of her chart, “It’s just the concussion and the broken ribs, which is remarkable for the accident you were in. You’re very lucky, Mr. Bradshaw. There was some smoke inhalation from the crash site but that’s not a major issue anymore, and if everything remains stable until dinnertime, you can go home tonight.”

“Oh!” Carole squeals, clapping delicately with her hands in her lap, “That’s fantastic!’

Bradley seems equally pleased, smiling wide, and it takes a lot of willpower to mirror his expression. He knocks his nose into your cheek and you feel his grin against your jaw, so you bring a hand up to scrub through the hair at the back of his neck.

“That’s great,” You conclude weakly, blaming the lull in your voice on being so close to Bradley and not wanting to talk too loud. Carole eyes you nervously, though, trying to mask the worry in her eyes with a smile.

“You should still rest,” The nurse advises, “Those ribs won’t be healed for close to a month, maybe more. And you can sleep through most of the concussion, too. What’s good about going home is it’ll be familiar to you, and it might help trigger those memories you’ve lost. They’re still not back?”

“Nope,” Bradley shakes his head, keeping it pressed to yours, “I got nothin’.”

“Alright,” The nurse hums sympathetically, tucking the chart into a cubby by the door, “We’ll bring lunch at around one, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Thank you!” Carole calls after the nurse as she leaves, then she stands in her flowy skirt, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

“Miss Y/N,” She beams, “Bradley’s already had his breakfast. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no,” You shake your head, “Not yet. Are you going to get something?”

“I am,” She nods, shouldering her purse, “Would you like some hospital pancakes, baby doll?”

“Here,” You stand, but Bradley grabs your hand, keeping you close to his bedside, “I can-”

“You can sit down,” Carole narrows her eyes at you, teasingly menacing, “Sit your butt back in that chair and be with your boyfriend, honey! I can manage two to-go boxes.”

“Thank you,” You gush, settling back into your seat and squeezing Bradley’s hand. He doesn’t let up on his heavy grip until you’re planted in your seat, and even when he does loosen his fingers he still holds you. Carole winks at you when you leave, and Bradley’s attention is solely on you the second the door shuts.

“Y/N,” He murmurs, and sometimes you forget your name isn’t baby or honey around him. You turn, now a little more nervous to be there now that your buffer is gone.

His big brown eyes are oozing their signature sweetness, a golden glint in them under the lights of the hospital room. He looks healthier now, even though you know his ribs hurt, and you’re oh-so-happy to have your Bradley back.

“I missed you,” You confess, and his face breaks into a grin. He nods, leaning up to kiss you, and you close the gap so that he doesn’t have to strain his probably sore muscles.

“I missed you, too,” He breathes, and you kiss him over and over and over again until you think you might be stealing the breath from his lungs. You let up, if only to keep him healthy, otherwise you’d never stop.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming,” His lips close momentarily around your lower one while yours frame his top in a sweet peck.

“The cookies needed time to bake,” You lament, your mouth slightly dewy from his kiss, “Sorry, babe. I would have come faster, I- I should have gotten up earlier, but-”

“You’re here now,” He cuts off your worries, the heated skin of his face pressing against yours like he’s trying to stick to you, “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” You hum dazedly, drunk on his love, “What about the cookies, do those matter?”

His eyes widen in consideration and he tilts his head to the side, mouth scrunching in a thoughtful frown, “Yeah, those matter too. Oatmeal raisin?”

“Oatmeal raisin,” You promise, digging through your purse, “Are you still on the hospital diet?”

“Honey,” He declares, sounding like his father's son as pride prickles his mustache, “I’d eat your cookies even if they killed me. Lay one on me, sugar.”

You snort at his cocky drawl, withdrawing a cookie from the bag in your purse. You break a piece off, hand-feeding him like his arms are still weak.

“Speaking of sugar,” You muse, stealing a bite of the treat for yourself and speaking with it pinched between your teeth, “I was thinking about baking together earlier. It was awful being alone, there was no one to eat the sugar out of the bowl.”

“Or drink the vanilla extract,” He cracks, and you laugh with glee.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking of!” You gush, taking his hand once more and squeezing it, “You gagged.”

“I don’t know! I just thought it’d taste good! I love vanilla,” He laments, only fuelling more laughter from you. 

“Yeah, well you got a lot of it,” You chuckle, “Anyways, it was weird not having you there. I had to do the dishes all by myself.”

“Poor baby,” He croons, half sincere and half teasing. He strokes a hand down your cheek that you yearn to kiss, but it goes by too fast, “How’d you manage?”

“I thought about you,” You confess, and some of that amusement in his eyes dims, giving way to complete and total admiration.

“Yeah?” He breathes, incredulous like he's twelve and he can’t believe his crush actually likes him. He’s always had that sort of puppyish aura about him, like you’re not just his girlfriend, you’re his best friend, and he’s always happy you’re along for the ride. It’s probably why he holds your hand so frequently, like he is now.

“Yeah,” You nod, flipping his palm in yours and tracing over the lines etched into it, “It’s not home there without you, Brad.”

“We go back tonight,” He smiles, keeping his voice low so that it doesn’t shatter the serenity around you, “Together.” You notice a sheen of tears over his eyes and you fall in love with him all over again, unable to hold yourself back from admiring how much he loves you. You really, really don’t know how you fucked this up.

“Yeah,” You croak, smiling weakly down at his hand instead of into his eyes, “Together.”

“Breakfast,” Carole sings, propping the door open with her foot as she steps inside. Your heads turn in sync, and you see her holding two plates, both covered with plastic lids. “Miss Y/N, three pancakes for you, and there’s syrup for days.”

“Thank you,” You rush to help her, and some piece of your heart stays in Bradley’s palm when you drop it. You suspect you won’t get it back unless he forgives you eventually, or maybe he’ll keep it even if he does. You trust him with it, he’ll take care of it.

You wish you'd offered him and his heart the same courtesy.

Carole hands you your breakfast and takes a seat on Bradley’s opposite side, caging him in between his two girls.

“You want some, baby?” Carole croons at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“No thanks, ma,” He clears his throat, turning to face you with a puppy-eyed look that he’s had mastered since age three, “But I would love another bite of cookie?”

“Oh, take it,” You grumble, handing over the baked good for Bradley to devour, “But if your blood sugar rises, or something, it’s not my fault.”

“Won’t tell a soul,” Bradley promises, a mouthful of oatmeal raisin already impairing his speech, “Thanks, honey.”

“Mm-hm,” You nod, your mouth similarly stuffed with food. The pancakes are good, considering they came from a cafeteria that also serves tuna and jell-o.

“Y/N, baby,” Carole calls just as much sugar in her voice as is in her breakfast, “Pass me that syrup?”

She’s asking for a container you’ve got in your hand, half-empty. She doesn’t want to open a new one and waste the contents, so you pass it over, but a drizzle drips off of the side and lands on Bradley’s chin. 

He rears his head back as it falls, but he can’t burrow far enough into the pillow to dodge it. You squeal through your mouthful, swallowing quickly and painfully to rush out an apology you’re sure he doesn’t care about receiving.

“Sorry, Brad.” You curse your clumsiness, grabbing for a napkin but getting a better idea instead. You stand and lean over him to kiss the syrup off of his chin, feeling his face split into a grin while your lips are still attached to it. You can't keep a smile off of your face either, licking your lips clean of the stickiness.

“Cuties!” Carole giggles, just as giddy of a grin on her face as is on yours and Bradley’s. You’re sure she’s ecstatic to see you getting along so well, glad to know your acting isn’t just that.

“I was telling Bradley earlier,” You speak disjointedly through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, “When I was baking his cookies, I was thinking about the times we’ve baked together. Wanna tell’er what you did, Brad?”

“Oh,” He groans, “No. Not fair, baby, I’m bed-ridden. I’m dying,” He sticks a protective hand over his ribs, now magically unable to lift his head from the pillow, “You can’t tell embarrassing stories of me to my mom.”

“I didn’t! I offered you the chance to tell it,” You roll your eyes, wary as you hear a nurse pass by the door. Bradley’s cookie is in plain sight, and he stuffs it into his mouth for safekeeping as the footsteps pass. No one comes in, though, and he struggles to finish his mouthful.

“Oh,” Carol gushes, “Somebody tell me! I wanna know, y’know I love teasin’ you, Brad.”

“Mom!’ He gawps through a mouthful of oatmeal, “Rude!”

“What’s rude is talkin’ with your mouth full,” Carole scolds, swatting him on the shoulder, “Swallow first, mister.”

“He ate-” You start, but Bradley lunges for you with impressive agility, twisting his torso to the side to clamp a hand over your mouth. You laugh, long and loud and brash while Bradley tries to muffle it. In his haste to silence you he tries saying ‘No!’ but he’s still got a mouthful of cookie, and the crumbs that don’t get caught in his mustache rain over your legs.

You’re still laughing. It’s messy, it’s gross, there’s half-chewed cookie on your lap, but Bradley’s holding you close, his strong arms around your head while he keeps a tight grip on your mouth. He’s laughing too, chest shaking as he tries powering through the mouthful of food that he’s got. Finally he swallows, but he doesn’t let go, only blows fruitlessly at the crumbs littering your pants.

“I’m sorry,” He pants, short of breath from chuckling, “If you hadn’t been so hellbent on embarrassing me, I wouldn’t have spewed raisins into your pancakes.”

“Gross! Okay!” You laugh uncontrollably into his palm between giggles, kissing at the skin there, “Okay. You win.”

He lets up only when you stop struggling, letting yourself sink into his embrace no matter how uncomfortable. A thought prods at the back of your mind like a lightning rod, sending a jolt of pain down your spine when it reminds you that this isn’t real. But you push it away, you don’t let it paralyze you, and your smile never falls.

“I’m sorry,” You hum to Bradley, while Carole watches you with amusement dancing in her pretty eyes, as well as in her movie star smile, “I just thought your mom would have liked to hear. That’s all.”

“She would,” Bradley nods, leaning back in his bed, finally at ease, “That’s why you can’t tell her.”

“You’re no fun,” She groans, and you finish up the last of your pancakes, gathering all of the trash (and cookie crumbs) to put them in the can. You have to let go of Bradley’s hand to make it across the room but when you’re by the door you stay there, your boyfriend’s eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You reach for the doorknob, then, while he can't reach you, “Carole, he ate vanilla extract.”

The nurse down the hall gives you a strange look as you rush to shut the door on both Bradley’s indignant shout and Carole’s gleeful giggles.

“Does he need help?” He looks at you skeptically, and you shake your head.

“We’re teasing him,” You brush the nurse’s concerns away, “Where’s the gift shop?”

True to your word, you stop by the bathroom, but your real destination is the gift shop. There’s a stuffed bear inside with fur the exact caramel shade of Bradley’s hair, and you only wish it had a mustache. Otherwise, it’s identical, flight gear on and aviators over its eyes. 

“Hi,” You greet the cashier at the counter, handing over the bear and a book you plan on reading to him in your downtime, “Just these.”

While she rings up your purchase you hear the sliding doors behind you open, and you turn to see your dad and Nick enter. Their faces light up at the sight of you, and when the cashier gives you back the bear, you show it off to them.

“Just gotta get it a mustache,” Nick tugs softly on one of the bear’s ears, “Now that’s a good lookin’ bear!”

“I was gonna get’im a movie to watch,” Your dad beelines for the DVDs, but you pull him back.

“Dad,” You murmur, walking him and Nick towards the door, “He can just use his phone. Everything here is way too expensive.” You throw a kind smile at the cashier like you hadn’t just insulted her trade, “Thank you!”, and lead the way back to Bradley’s room.

The elevator ride almost goes sour when Nick tries pushing all of the buttons at once. You’re not sure how Carole has survived living with him for this long, but you swat his hands away with an incredulous shout.

“Don’t! I wanna get these back to him,” You beg, bear and book in hand, “I’ll bet he’s so bored.”

“You seen him already?” Your dad raises a brow, and you nod.

“Carole’s there, too,” You hum, “We just finished breakfast.”

“Does he ‘member anything new?” Goose asks, and that little lightning rod comes back, tazing your brain, burning one word into the matter there; liar, liar, liar. All of a sudden the elevator is too small, and you’d rather be anywhere but.

“Nope,” You shake your head, turning to face the doors of the elevator that ding, “Nothing.”

“Bradley!” Nick cheers, seeing his son alive and well, “Made it through the night?”

“Barely. Spent more time on my phone than I did asleep,” Bradley scoffs, and your heart skips a beat, not in a good way. Again you wonder if he’s found mystifying evidence of your breakup, an unfollow on instagram or a deletion of date nights from the calendar.

You’re sure he would have brought something up if he was confused, but you’re sneaking around, and it makes you paranoid enough to believe everything will fall apart at a moment’s notice. You have no peace, not when Bradley isn’t holding you.

“Well you’re going home tonight,” Carole reminds him, stroking over his cheek fondly, “You’ll get some good rest there, Brad.”

“Hey, alright!” Your dad whoops, “They’re cuttin’ you loose?”

“After dinner,” Bradley nods, “They said if nothing weird happens I can leave.”

“Congrats, Brad.” Nick claps him on the shoulder, standing in front of the seat you’d abandoned to go get his gifts.

His gifts!

You fumble with the bag in your hands, pulling the bear out first and passing it over.

“Oh, baby,” Bradley laughs, admiring its miniscule flight gear, “Bear’s almost as handsome as me.”

“Nah, a little more.” Pete squints at it, “It doesn't have that ugly mustache.”

“Hey!”, Father and son rage in unison, and Nick slaps your dad’s arm hard enough for Bradley, too.

“Uh, Carole,” You murmur, but the soft sound catches Bradley’s attention anyways. He’s drawn to you like a fly to honey, stuck in every last drop of your sweetness.

“I need to ask your mom a favor,” You smile down at Bradley, brushing hair away from his eyes, “Can we slip out?”

“Okay,” He hums skeptically, “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” You drag your voice out dramatically, leaning down to peck at his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, and feels comforting against your lips.

“We’ll keep’im busy,” Nick declares, taking the book that you hand him, “Want me to read to you, Brad?”

“No.”

“Too bad! Ooh, Little Women. Wanna do voices with me, Mav?”

You and Carole step out before Nick or your dad could pull out any high-pitched giggles, and Bradley’s mom looks at you worriedly.

“What is it, baby doll?”

“I need help,” You confess, “If Bradley’s coming home tonight, he’s gonna notice a hell of a lot of stuff missing from our place. I just took everything I could grab and I ran,” You recall, dry swallowing at the thought of the boxes piled into your motel room, “I can’t put everything back by myself, and I- I don’t want to force you to help, but my dad and NIck can’t know, and-”

“Slow down, sugar,” She hums, reaching out to rub a soothing hand up and down your arm, “I’ll help you. What do we got, clothes and shoes?”

“And books, and toiletries, and... puzzles.” You concede drearily.

“Baby,” Carole arches a brow, looking almost sympathetically at you, “You brought puzzles with you?”

“I thought I’d be bored!” You reason, shoulders stiff to your ears, “But I haven’t had much of an appetite for puzzling.”

“Alright, I’ll help you,” She promises, “How long are we gonna need, honey?”

“A few hours,” You shrug, “We can carpool to base, I’ll pick up his Bronco, and we can head to the motel I’ve been at to get my stuff. We’ll need the extra space in the back of his car.”

“Okay! Okay,” Carole gushes, and you think she’s almost a little exhilarated by this spy operative, “Let’s stay for lunch, then we’ll go. We’ll say- uh, the house needs cleaning!”

‘Perfect,” You rub at your temples, “Thanks, Carole. And- and we’ll buy party decorations,” You snap your fingers, “I told him we were out here talking about a surprise, so we’ll throw a little welcome home thing tomorrow, have cake or something. That’s our alibi.”

“Got it! I’m off to the bathroom,” She heads down the hallway, “Get back in there!”

“-told you, I’m Jo!” Your dad is standing squared to Nick, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, “It’s not fair that you get to be everyone!”

“Well if you did the voices right, I wouldn’t have to take over everything,” Nick huffs, “Tell’im Brad, that was a shitty Beth impression!”

“Both of you suck,” Bradley drawls, his eyes tracking you intently as you slip back into the room, “Baby, you okay?”

You shake off any residual nerves from your scheming with Carole, nodding as light-heartedly as you can, “Yeah! Yeah, Brad,” You take your seat beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you. He's always good at reading you, and everything about you right now is a lie. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t react like you want him to, he still doesn’t believe you. He studies you when you pull away, and you laugh in defeat, “I promise, I’m just exhausted from all of this. But that shouldn’t matter, I wasn’t the one whose jet crashed! As soon as we get you home I’ll be fine.”

That seems to work, clearing away the worry swirling in Bradley’s honey-colored eyes. He nods, smiling softly, “Yeah, me too.”

He takes your hand, and you’re starting to wonder how you’d ever survived without holding his. You hadn’t held hands this frequently even when you’d been together, not that Bradley knows there’s a difference. Your heart aches for the man beside you, how shaken up he must be to cling to you like a lost puppy.

While Nick and Pete argue you feel Bradley’s fingers slip from yours, and it’s such an unexpected motion that you turn to watch him. He’s looking intently at your hand, though there's an absent-minded air about him, and your stomach drops when he ghosts his rough thumb gently over your ring finger. 

“Brad?” You murmur, trying to keep from choking up, “‘Love you.”

He smiles, eyes trained back on yours and full of tenderness, “Love you too, sweetheart. Where’s my mom?”

“Bathroom,” You drop your eyes down to his hands, studying his own bare ring finger. You hope you get to see it decorated one day.

“Do you want me to read to you?” You look back up at him, your nose nearly bumping his cheek. Nick has left the book on the side table near the foot of Bradley’s bed in order to gesture with both hands, and you’re sure they wouldn’t notice if you lit it on fire where it sat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” Bradley laughs breathily, “I haven’t been hearing your voice much lately. Not like I used to.”

“I know,” You lament, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble. You know he means unobscured, private, without beeping in the background and the ever-present threat of a nurse coming in to kick you out, but you hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in weeks, so you understand the internal yearning.

“Come here,” Bradley suggests when you fetch the book, offering up the right side of his bed. It’s small, nothing you wouldn’t attempt at home but something you don’t want to risk in the hospital.

“No, it’s okay, Brad.” You shake your head, trying to pat the blankets down around him but he doesn’t let you, reaching for your thigh.

“No, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You insist, standing when he tries dragging you into the bed with him, “It’s okay, Brad, let’s just sit. We can be closer when we’re home, but for now I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks crushed. Really, truly crushed, his brown eyes holding such a vulnerable look in them that you feel like you’ve just punted a puppy across a football field.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” You repeat, swallowing thickly as tears prick at your eyes. You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’m scared, Bradley.”

You’re scared about more than just that. You haven’t held him in weeks, nor has he held you. You’re afraid that you might never recover from this, but if he wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your hair and holds you close, you know you never will. You’ll spend the rest of your days living in regret, and your self-preservation instinct is kicking in again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Bradley murmurs, though he doesn’t need to be quiet now that Nick and your dad have stopped bickering. They’re stealing sneaky glances at the two of you, acting like their sunglasses stop them from being noticed even though their heads are turned towards you.

His words strike something within you that he didn’t mean for them to. He’s spoken unknowingly to your outstanding promise with yourself, that you won’t run away because something is scary. And your promise to Carole, as well, that you’ll make her son feel loved before he remembers that love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“Bradley,” You breathe, book in one hand as you use the other to stroke through his hair. You’re standing at his bedside and he takes advantage of your proximity, sitting up and off of his pillows to lean his head against your stomach. 

You’re glad he can’t see your face, because tears rush from your eyes in seconds. He’s a sweet man whose brain operates on love first, and thought second, so when he hooks his arms around your waist and nestles his face into your tummy, you know it’s his instinct to hold you. 

At the sight of your tears the other men in the room decide to take their leave, smiling sadly at you while you comb your fingers through Bradley’s hair. 

“We’ll give you some time,” Your dad whispers, but Bradley can hear just fine, “Bye, honey.”

You aren’t able to offer them a wave in response, but they know you appreciate it. 

Once more the sterile hospital room is inhabited by only you and Bradley. Souls intertwined, tangled in some places and parallel in others, you hold him, stroking through his hair and praying he never picks his face up out of your stomach. There’s snot threatening to run down your lip but you don’t dare sniffle at the thought of ruining the moment, keeping your chest deathly still where it yearns to shake with sobs.

“I love you,” You whimper, dropping the book to cage his head to your belly, “I love you, Bradley, I- I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He speaks into your stomach, and the sound vibrates through your body, warming you with a tingly sensation like the one you’d gotten from your very first kiss with Bradley.

You’re sure he knows you’re crying now, now that your voice drips with tears and your hands shake in his scalp. He doesn't break away, though, only tugs you closer, keeping his face nestled to your body as he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap. You’re mindful of his broken ribs, but there’s nothing wrong with his thighs, so when you land on top of them, you let yourself rest there. 

Bradley’s wormed his nose against your cheek, no longer snug in your stomach but flush to your face instead. He holds you like he used to, before you spooked and ran, before he fell out of the sky in a blaze of flames, before anything in your life was complicated. He holds you like he held you when you were just Y/N and Bradley, cradling your face to his chest and tucking his chin over your head.

“You’re hurting, too,” He murmurs, rocking you ever-so-slightly back and forth as you sit sideways on his lap. He keeps you tucked to his chest, smooths your hair with one hand and holds your waist with the other. 

“I’m the one that went down but you’re the one who got that phone call,” He moves his hand from your hair to your back, scratching aimlessly there, “You’re allowed to be upset over that. You don’t have to pretend like nothing is wrong just because I’m in the hospital. I don’t want you to pretend to be strong if it’s only gonna make you weaker. Talk to me, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” You wail, clutching his hospital gown and praying you aren’t hurting his ribs, “Bradley, I- I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you, not here, not now. I’m scared,” You weep, “I’m really scared, Bradley.”

“Don’t be. You’re okay,” He promises, pecking a soft kiss against the crown of your head, “Baby, you’re safe with me. You don’t have to be scared of anything. Of talking, or feeling, or hurting. That’s what I’m here for, angel, to talk with you, to feel with you, to hurt with you. That’s what love is, honey, and I love you, you know I do.”

His voice wobbles slightly on the last fragment of his sentence, and you don’t think you can handle seeing him cry. You’re terrified out of your mind, but determined just the same not to run, and it’s stuck you in this awful paralyzed state. All you can do is hold Bradley, all you can do is let him hold you, and hope that his memories never return.

“I don’t want to stress you out,” You mourn, picking your head up from his chest to press it to his face instead. You want to fuse yourself to him, so that he couldn’t cast you away if he tried.

“I’m stressed about whatever you’re not telling me,” He laughs sadly, a soft huff of air from his chest, “Baby, it makes me stressed knowing you’re shutting yourself in like this. Knowing there’s stuff going on up here that you don’t want to talk to me about.” 

He taps your head, then smooths his hand down the nape of your neck to rub at your back.

“Tell me,” He begs, voice raw with despair, “Please, angel, tell me what you’re feeling.”

You owe him the truth. Concealing the truth was one thing. Sneaking around, covering up behind his back so that he didn’t notice anything peculiar was a preventative measure. But now he’s asked for your honesty, now it’ll be lying if you don’t tell him. Now you’ll be lying to him, really and truly lying to him, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You choose honor this time, sniffling hard and bracing your hand on his chest so that you can look him in the eyes if you feel brave enough.

“Bradley,” Your words roll off of your tongue with the weight of steel, and you have to force them out of your throat to get them to go at all, “I want to be honest with you. But I’m scared-” Your face crumples, and you fight to right it, “But- but that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to shut you out, You’re right, you-” You falter, the pitch of your voice wobbly as you take a deep breath, “You love me. And I know I can be honest with you.”

“You can,” Bradley promises, stroking his knuckles over your cheek. He stares into your eyes, and you stare into his only to get a last glimpse of their sweet honey-like hue.

“You should know,” You drop your eyes, unable to confess while looking into his, “I love you, Bradley. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” He promises, “Now what’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s-”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” A nurse steps into the room, and instantly the moment is shattered. There’s no picking up the pieces, no glue in the world strong enough to repair the bravery you’d mustered up to be honest with Bradley. 

He looks annoyed at her interruption, something you know he wouldn’t normally feel towards anyone doing their job, but he refrains from snapping at her.

“Yes?”

“We need to run some vital tests. Blood sugar, heart rate, breathing, the like. After they’re cleared, we’ll know if you can return home or not.”

From his hold on you, you gather that there’s nothing Bradley would rather do less in the world than let you go, and there’s nothing you’d rather do less than let him, but you peel away from him reluctantly, standing where you’d been tucked into his lap. He settles back against his pillows that you’re sure are cold now, and you tuck the blanket beneath his thigh to keep him warm.

He ducks his gaze and you see tears lining his eyes that you want to wipe away, but he grabs for your hand again, and you hope that’s enough for him.

The nurse pokes and prods at him, reads machines and scribbles their information down, and the door opens once again before she’s done conducting her tests. Carole, Nick, and Pete step back through the doors, smiling sheepishly at you. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nick and your dad had held Carole off from coming back to the room while you spoke, which you’re grateful for. You just wish you'd had a little more time.

“Alright,” The nurse claps, smiling cheerily like she hadn’t just shattered your moment, “You are in good shape, Mr. Bradshaw. Your blood sugar is a little high,” She notes with a furrowed brow, and you shoot a knowing glance at Bradley, “But everything else seems right. Your ribs should heal within a few weeks time, and once you get back home and see familiar surroundings, your memories should return. All you need to do is rest, once I get these processed and signed off by the doctor, you’ll be good to go!”

“Thank you,” Carole gushes, while Bradley just nods with a tight smile on his face, jaw tight in irritation at the four unwanted parties in the room.

“Goin’ home, big guy.” Nick grins at Bradley as the nurse makes her leave. He claps his son on the leg and this time Carole doesn’t intervene, “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Shower,” Bradley rasps, “There’s ash in my hair.”

“Not anymore,” You showcase your hands, dust and ash clinging to the spaces between your fingers from when you’d run them through Bradley’s hair. 

He laughs at the sight, “Still. The second thing on my list is sleep, and I don’t want to get anything on the sheets.”

“Good plan,” Carole beams at her son, hooking her arm around yours, “Baby, we should head out. We’ve got lots to do for this surprise of yours,” She gloats at Bradley, then turns back to you, “But you should wash your hands first, honey.”

“Okay,” You nod, eager to get out of a situation you’d been so courageous in only minutes before, “I’ll- um, get my stuff.”

You bend towards your purse, taking the bag of cookies out, “If your blood sugar rises and lands you in here for another night,” You warn, “I’m never making these again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley nods, but your dad is the one to take the bag, not him.

“Don’t steal them,” You narrow your eyes at your dad and Nick, “And don’t get caught feeding him any. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am!” They echo Bradley, standing at attention. You scoff, turning back to Bradley and leaning down to meet him where he lays back on his pillows.

“I love you,” You hum, and he’s already reaching out for you before you can touch him. He sits upright, grabbing for your hands and tilting his face upwards to beg for a kiss.

“I love you, too,” He mumbles, speaking lowly against your lips as you kiss him. When you pull away he wants more, keeping your hands firmly in his grip when you try to leave.

“Bradley,” You let out a soft laugh, but you kiss him again anyways, knowing he’s still reeling from being a second away from finding out the truth, the extent of which he’s not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” You whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead to his, “We’ll talk later.”

”Yeah,” He nods, arching up into your embrace even though he knows he has to let you leave.

He calls out again before you leave, “Love you!” And you repeat it with a sad smile on your face, letting Carole take your hand while Nick and your dad sit at Bradley’s bedside. The last you see of him is his fading grin as you wave goodbye before the door shuts, and you’re in the hallway.

“Something happened in there,” She gushes, misplaced excitement shining from her eyes like a sunbeam, “I just know it! He was all lovey-dovey when you left, even moreso than usual. He really didn’t want you to go, angel.”

“I almost told him,” You mutter as Carole leads you to the elevator, nerves churning your stomach.

“What?” Her smile drops in surprise, and she stomps to a halt on the tiled floor. She presses the button, and when the elevator dings she ushers you inside.

“He asked me to be honest with him,” You recall, sick at the thought of how close you’d been to losing him, “And- and he was holding me, Carole, like he used to. And I couldn’t help it, I just- I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t stand lying to him and pretending nothing was wrong. But I- I don’t know if I can do that again. I don’t know if I can tell him the truth. I tried, and we got interrupted, I mean- isn’t that a sigh? Some sort of clue left by the universe to tell me to wait a little longer?”

“Baby I don’t think the universe is sendin’ you clues,” Carole looks sympathetically at you, “I think you’re lookin’ for reasons to run away again. I know I’m the one that told you to pretend, but that boy can read you like a book, and if he’s catchin’ on, maybe you ‘oughta give it up. I saw him in there, honey.” The door dings and slides open, and she takes your hand to lead you outside, “There’s nothin’ he wouldn’t forgive you for. He was clinging onto you like a leech, and I think he’d understand you were scared. Might not like it, but he’d understand.”

“He keeps saying that I’ll never lose him, or- or that he loves me, or that I can tell him what’s bothering me,” You gesture with your free hand as you walk to the parking lot, “And- and it feels so perfect! Like he knows exactly what I need to hear. Like I could tell him and nothing would change. But everything would change, and- and I don’t want that,” You suppress a sob as you reach Nick and Carole’s car, pulling open the door to the passenger’s side. 

She stashes her purse by your feet, stuffing the key into the ignition, “Baby, everything’s already changed. He just doesn’t know that. But he will soon, and once he does, he’s gonna realize why you’ve been acting so weird. If you were pullin’ it off, I’d say keep going. If he wasn’t asking questions, you could keep this up, ‘cause you’d be doing him a favor. That was the whole point, baby, to let him down nice and easy, give him a bit of time to adjust to the crash before confessing about the breakup. But I should’ve known he’d realize you were lyin' to him,” She scoffs, checking her mirrors, “That boy would notice you’d changed your haircut from just your voice on the phone. He knows you too well, honey, and if he’s askin’ all the right questions and you’re giving him all the wrong answers, that’s gonna stress him out. And that’s doing the opposite of what we want. If this is just gonna make things worse, I say tell him. But-” She backs out of the spot, en route to base to fetch his car, “Not yet. Wait until you’re home. Then he’s in a familiar environment, you can kneel by the bedside and grovel if you want,” She waves a hand in the air, “Just be honest with him baby, if it’s what he’s askin’ for.”

She barely lets you mull her words over before she starts again, “I think it’s a good time. You told me that when you left, you wish you hadn’t. And you’ve spent the last two days showing that to him, even if he doesn’t know that’s what you’re doing. He knows you love him, and I think he’ll forgive you if you confess that you were just scared of losing him. ‘Cause you can’t fake love like that, honey.” She eyes you through the mirror, “You can pretend y’all never broke up, but the way you love him, that’s not pretend, and he knows that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” You sniffle, “If he doesn’t know by then. I- I know I have to, even if it’s scary.”

“Atta girl,” She gushes, nearly flooring it at a green light in her excitement, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t be,” You grumble, ‘Not yet. Not until I do it.”

“I know you will,” She decides, “You’ve never lied to me before.”

“Actually,” You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, “I have, once.”

She narrows her eyes, gives you a sideways glance as she makes a turn, “Oh, really? And when was that?”

“Uh, when we were in high school, I told you Bradley and I were staying at my place while my dad was gone,” Your face twists into an involuntary smile at the memory, “We went to Vegas.”

“What?” She shrieks, almost stomping on the breaks, “Vegas?”

“It was just for a night! And we didn’t gamble,” You scoff, “They wouldn’t let us into any casinos.”

“Ooh, you two,” She seethes, but it’s happened so long ago that she can’t be mad, not really, “Surprised y’all didn’t get married down there.”

“Actually,” You laugh, “We tried. But you weren’t there to sign off on it, and we were only 17.”

She shares a laugh with you at the memory, pulling into the security checkpoint outside of the naval base. You have to pass your ID over her, and you explain that you’re just picking up your partner’s car. They let you in, but you don’t think they like your presence very much, so you get the car and go as quickly as you can.

“It’s the motel just off the freeway,” You gesture in the direction of the place you’ve been staying, “We’ll load up the Bronco and meet back at our place.”

“See you there, babydoll,” Carole grins, already headed for the exit.

You roll up your window just as your phone buzzes, and you put the call on speaker while your phone balances on the cupholder.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Bradley’s voice bleeds through the crackly speakers. Then, like an attached toddler their first night away from mom, “I miss you.”

It’s just what you need to hear after your gut-wrenching conversation with Carole, and you croon while waving to the security officers on the way out, “I miss you too, Brad. I picked up your car. Didn’t want her sitting all alone on base.”

“Thanks, babe,” You can hear the grin in his voice, “Is my mom still with you?”

“No, she’s driving herself,” You merge lanes, brain on autopilot as you head for the motel, “And don’t ask what we’re doing, it’s a surprise.”

He scoffs; you’ve caught him, “Fine. They gave me lunch. It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, feeling more at home in Bradley’s Bronco than you had in your half-empty house, “I’ll make you something good for breakfast tomorrow, baby. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, fruit, whatever you want to eat.”

He takes a pause, then, “I have something inappropriate to say. But your dad’s still here, so I can’t.”

You let out a bark of bewildered laughter, especially when you can hear your dad’s voice in the background as he groans.

“I get the idea,” You promise him, and you hear Bradley huff a soft laugh into the speaker. You almost want to record the call, just to keep the sound forever.

“When are you guys coming back?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” You lament, tailing Carole as she heads for the freeway exit, “Hopefully before dinner. But if not, I’ll definitely be there when you get discharged, and I can drive you home.”

“And we can shower,” Bradley adds on to your sentence, eliciting another disgruntled sound from your dad, “And sleep.”

“And we can shower and sleep,” You promise, chest feeling light at the night’s plan. You’re pulling into the motel parking lot now, the dingy sign colored more in spiderwebs than in neon.

“I’ve gotta go, Brad.” You put the car in park, grabbing your phone and switching speaker off, “I love you. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He’s hesitant to answer, and you wish you didn’t have to hang up. You know he’s still uneasy about the way that your talk ended earlier, but he finally speaks up, “Alright. Love you, too.”

“So much,” You hum, “Love you so much.”

“So much,” He agrees, more of that audible grin in his voice, “See you later, angel.”

“See ‘ya,” You hum, and it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to hang up, not after that.

Carole’s standing ready at the strip of doors, and you pull the small, rusty key out of your pocket. There’s nearly ten boxes stacked in your room, and you prop the door open with one as you gather anything that isn’t packed away.

You haven’t changed clothes much since being there, nor have you been keeping up with your hygiene as well as you should be, so the clean-up process feels like a day's worth, not two week’s worth. But you’re thankful for the easy pickup as you load it into a half-empty box, hauling it out the door and to the Bronco.

Packing the boxes goes fast when you work with Carole. It had been much more of a struggle to cart two at a time from your place to the motel room, but with a little maneuvering, all nine boxes fit snugly between her car and yours.

“Alright,” You dust off your hands, picking at the edge of your nail, “You ready?”

“Actually, you go home,” She decides, “And I’ll go to the party supply store. I’ll pick up some ‘Welcome Home�� stuff, and when I get back I’ll help you with the rest of the boxes, and we can set up together.”

“Perfect,” You heave a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Of course, baby!” She seems to have a never-ending supply of optimism, one that you’re thankful for because you seem to harbor the opposite.

Hauling your boxes back into the house is unexpectedly the easy part. What’s harder is putting everything back, filling in the gaps in the bookshelf with your own volumes, stuffing the dresser with the clothes you’d chosen to take with you.

When Carole gets back you’re dragging your thumb over the shirt you’d taken off of your pillow, ready to fold it and destroy the evidence of its association with your two-week disappearance. She peeks into the bedroom, expecting to find you hard at work organizing your novels, and instead sees you sitting on the bed looking like you’re going to puke.

“Baby,” She hums, “What’s the matter?”

“He put this over my pillow,” You sniffle, staring down forlornly at the object that had offered comfort to Bradley when you hadn’t, “He slept with it.”

“Oh, baby,” Carole whispers, standing behind you and rubbing your shoulders, “He loves you. Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you think it means everything’ll turn out okay?”

“What if he doesn’t want me back?”

For the first time, you say it out loud. You’ve insinuated it, sure, thought about it, but you’ve never said it yet. Not out loud. You voice the fear that’s been bouncing around like a balloon in your head, popping it and feeling the aftershocks flow through you. 

She’s quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say any more than you do. But she bends down, wraps her arms around your shoulders and hums, “He will, baby. He’s been sleepin’ with your shirt this whole time, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t miss you.”

“But even if he misses me, I still hurt him,” You sniffle, “I- I left, is missing me enough for him to want me back in his life? What if I went too far? What if we can’t come back from this? What if I lose him forever, Carole?”

“He kept my ring.” She murmurs, her voice the calm to your storm. 

“What?”

“He kept it. Even though it wasn’t on your finger, he didn’t give it back to me. And he wouldn’t dare give that to anyone else, Y/N. It’s your ring, he knows it. That’s why he kept it, ‘cause he still wanted you to have it. He loves you even if you did hurt him, baby,” She sniffles, and you feel bad that you’ve made her cry, “That’s what love is. Sometimes you hurt each other, but if it’s love you find your way back. And what you’ve got is the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Your silence is enough of a reply, and you’re glad because it’s all you can muster. You can’t find the words to thank her, to tell her you hope she’s right, to beg to whatever deity exists for mercy. All you can say is, “I don’t wanna take it off,” As you stroke a finger down the shirt over your pillow.

“Wear it,” She suggests, pulling at the sweatshirt you’re wearing, “Put that on underneath it, baby. He won’t notice, and you can have it on you as a reminder that he misses you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to tell him.”

“Okay,” You sniff, a stray tear drying sticky on your cheek as you stand. She turns you around and pulls you into a real hug, and you let her squeeze you before going to the bathroom to change.

The shirt smells like Bradley now that he’s slept with it for two weeks. You’re sure you’re just immune to your own scent, and that he could still find traces of it to lull him to sleep at night, but wearing it now feels just as comforting as you bet it felt for him to sleep with it.

When you wander out of the bedroom you find Carole in the living room. She’s standing on your coffee table with her right leg, and her left is on the arm of the couch. She’s pinning a banner to the wall, ‘Welcome Home Bradley!’.

“Hey honey!” She beams at the sight of you in your shirt, you’d forgone the jacket to not overheat while moving things around. 

“Do you need help?” You watch her drive a pin into the wall with her thumb, and she shakes her head as she reaches down for another one, “No, I’ve got this. You just take care of your boxes, I can handle the party.”

“Yeah, you get the fun part,” You tease, and she laughs.

“Darlin’, I wasn’t the one to take my puzzles and run. Now go put ‘em back, I’m sure they’re the first things Brad’ll notice are missing when he gets home.”

You head back into the bedroom without any complaints. It’s hard to put everything back. No, it’s nice to put everything back. What’s hard is pretending it was never gone in the first place; what’s hard is lying.

You slide a lone book into its place on the shelf, one last spot left beside a photo album. Your fingers brush over a gemstone on the cover and you tug at the hefty spine, catching the jam-packed book before it can fall.

“Wow,” You breathe, barely aware that you’re speaking out loud. The cover showcases Bradley pressed up against the hospital’s nursery glass, peering in on a very sleepy baby you snoozing in her bassinet with Carole holding him up. You’d been born shortly after Bradley, not even a year, and he’d been very excited to meet his new best friend at the hospital.

A flip to the first page finds you in your dad’s old apartment, sleeping in your crib while Bradley’s hand wraps around the bars he’d pulled himself up on. Then the next page showcases a photo of him in the crib, curled up in the space by your feet while you sleep peacefully in your own spot.

You take the photo out of its sleeve, flipping it over to read the inscription you know by heart on the back: Bradley’s attached to Y/N at the hip. Won’t sleep anywhere else.

The next photos are more of the same. Bradley holding you on the couch, a gummy grin on his face at the baby in his arms. His hands barely bigger than yours, handing you a toy fighter jet. Tummy time on a play mat, where he’s holding a rattle just out of reach to get you to crawl like he’d seen your parents do. A shot of you tugging on his wispy hair, then a shot of Nick dragging a crying Bradley into his lap while your dad holds your previously clenched fist open. They tell their own story.

You’d been fated best friends from the start, but as you age in the photos, your relationship changes. All of a sudden there’s puppy love in your gaze when you reach your tween years, braces in your mouth and hearts in your eyes. There’s a picture of Bradley teaching you how to skateboard, and you're holding his hands for dear life. You distinctly remember a fiery flush to your cheeks in that moment, and you’re glad the camera hadn’t captured it. There’s New Year’s Eve in your matching pajamas, you cradled in Bradley’s arms like they’d make you pose every year since you’d come into the world. It was cute when you were kids, then it was embarrassing when you were teenagers, and now it’s cute again. In the photo you’re looking at you can’t be more than fourteen, and you know the second the shutter clicked on the camera, you’d scrambled out of his arms like they were burning you. 

You flip through more pages, watching your relationship blossom from friends into lovers. All of a sudden you’re holding hands, you’re matching outfits, and you’re kissing when you think no one is looking. Then there’s the famous picture of Bradley on his 18th birthday, glaring at the camera with a box of condoms in his hands, courtesy of his dad. Funnily enough, your dad shares Bradley’s expression in the background. The inscription on the back of that one reads: Just making sure he’s safe! Don’t want any grandkids, not while I’m still in my glory days - Goose.

That New Year’s Eve photo is special. It’s you still cradled in Bradley’s arms like always, but you’ve leaned up to kiss him, and he’s leaned down to kiss you. You distinctly remember it being the first time you’d willingly kissed on camera in front of your parents, and the giddy smiles you’d forced into makeshift puckers are clear as day in the photo. 

The matching pajama sets you’ve outgrown together are all stored in a box marked ‘sentimental’, not one that you’d taken with you when you’d left. You have a current pair, red and black buffalo print bottoms with fuzzy black tops, and you plan on asking Bradley to wear them tonight.

You haven’t noticed, but a smile has grown on your face, etching itself into your features as you relive your love story. You flip through family vacations, holidays, birthdays, sports games, barbecues, a million family events that Bradley joined you at. There’s never any of you apart, even though he’d been moved around for his career, because no one has ever thought to take a picture of one of you without the other. There’s no Y/N in this book, there’s no Bradley, there’s only Y/N and Bradley, and that’s what you want to be for the rest of your life. You want to fill out the rest of this book with aging photos, clearer in quality while the old ones yellow. You want to stuff this book until the bindings rip, you want to look back through it one day in a rocking chair beside one of Bradley’s own, faces wrinkled and hair grayed. Your story can’t end here.

Your phone buzzes on the bed, and you drop the photo album there while you check your message. No surprise, it’s from Bradley.

- The doctor signed off, I can go home after dinner, which shouldn’t be too much longer. How’s it going over there?

That’s great! You type back, biting a smile off of your face as you respond. It’s residual from looking through the photos, but you have to remember, you’re not there yet. It’s going good. Your mom is scary agile.

- What’s she doing?

Can’t tell you ;)

- Damn! Thought I had you there. Your dad’s eating one of my cookies :(

Tell him I said to leave you alone!

- He says you’re not the boss of him.

Tell him your mom said to leave you alone.

- He says she’s not the boss of him.

Tell your dad to tell him to leave you alone. She’s his boss.

- My dad’s eating one too :( 

Those assholes! I’ll make you more, baby ❤

- I love you best. ❤

I love you too baby ❤

The lingering fear of a breakup - a real one this time, one that doesn't rewind itself amidst burning jet fuel - is stuck in the back of your mind, and you suspect it will be until you finally confess. But the photo album and Bradley’s messages have combined to lift your spirits, and filing your shoes back into their places doesn’t weigh you down as much as you suspected it would. You try to make them look haphazard, jumbling them with Bradley’s and turning a few of them upside down. You two are notorious for having out of control shoe collections, Bradley’s sneakers and your own shoes constantly tumbling out of the closet like a cartoon.

 By the time the sun starts setting early on your California dream you’re nearly done, there’s just a few last garments to slip into your closet. You do so while wrestling with the clothes that are already in there, a hefty collection that leaves little room for the dress you’re trying to wedge inside. Nevertheless, a too-full closet is better than a half-empty one.

“Sugar?” Carole calls from down the hallway, hopefully not precariously balanced on any furniture this time, “Nick says they’re just serving Brad his dinner.”

You finally manage to set the clothes right on their hangers, panting slightly as you withdraw from the closet, “Okay! I’m almost done. We have a lot of clothes.”

She laughs, “Yes you do! You should eat somethin’ before we leave.”

“There’s no food here,” You sigh, “The fridge is empty. I’ll have to go shopping later. I’ll just stop for fast food on the way.”

“Party’s all set up,” Carole nods, jerking her head back towards the hallway, “If you keep the lights off in the living room tonight, he won’t see it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you coming over to celebrate?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ for breakfast,” Carole nods, “We can bring food?”

You laugh huffily, “I wasn’t kidding about there being nothing in the fridge. Anything’s appreciated, thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, baby,” She beams, but reconsiders with a slightly furrowed brow, “Although, I hope this is the only time.”

“Me too,” You scoff, “Alright, let’s head back.”

True to your word, you pull through a fast-food drive-thru on the way back to the hospital. Carole knows Nick’s order, and you know your dad’s, hopeful that they’ll be tired of hospital cuisine and yearning for a burger instead.

However, when you get there, they’re waiting in the lobby, Bradley sat between them. You hadn’t realized how early they were letting him out, and Carole takes the bag of food from you so that you can properly hug Bradley. He stands the moment he sees you, eyes pooling with such urgency as he tries to respect the no-running rule of the hospital. You struggle just the same, and the moment you’re within arms reach of each other, tears start flowing. Bradley yanks you into his chest, almost tipping you forwards and himself backwards with the momentum of his hug. His chin nestles straight over your shoulder, as does yours to his, and it’s the kind of hug you get from him after a long deployment, maybe even more desperate now. His breathing is ragged beside your ear, but not from his medical conditions, from the desperation clogging his lungs. His fist is tight in the back of your sweatshirt but the fabric is loose on you, and it’s not a tight enough hold for him. His fingers scrabble for the shirt beneath the hoodie, gripping onto both garments and keeping you closer than you ever thought you could be with Bradley. Your hands immediately encircle his shoulders, and your fingers find purchase against the baby hairs at the back of his neck. You scratch through the ones at his nape, hearing him sniffle sharply where his chin rests on your shoulder. The hand that isn’t fisted in your clothes is tight to your hip, gripping you so hard that you can feel his nails through the jeans you’re wearing. It’s not painful, it’s just firm, and its strength is reassuring. It’s grounding to hug Bradley again, unobscured by breathing tubes, hospital beds, or prying nurses.

You hear someone’s phone camera sound off, but you’re far from discouraging it. In fact, you’re going to ask whoever it was to send you the photo later. The hug turns into an embrace, one where you sway lightly from side to side, anything that isn’t you or Bradley fading into the background. Your eyes are screwed shut but tears still cascade down your cheeks, melancholy waterfalls that drip off of the curve of your chin and stain Bradley’s t-shirt. He’s dressed in what he’d been wearing beneath his flight suit, the material thankfully not ripped or burnt thanks to the coveralls. You take the lead, pulling back, but he keeps the same level of contact with you. When your chin slips from his shoulder he grabs your face instead, using it to keep you pressed tight to his body. His eyes are teary themselves, streaks of the shimmery stuff down his cheeks and probably in his mustache, too.

“Hi,” You croak, smiling giddily through your tears. 

He smiles, though the chubbing of his cheeks nudges a few more tears out of his eyes, “Hi.”

You smear them away with the palm of your hand, and use your thumb to rid him of the ones clinging to his undereyes. His hands are on your cheeks, too, and he tries mirroring your ministrations, but his thumbs are too shaky to do so. For fear of poking your eyes out, he clamps his hands over your cheeks again, content with holding you while your tears run over the hills and valleys of his fingers.

“You’re standing,” You marvel, ‘I thought you’d be in a wheelchair.”

“It hurts a little bit,” Bradley admits with a slight grimace, and you back away like you’ve been struck. He doesn’t let you get far at all, dropping your face to tug you back by your waist, “-but I’d rather break another rib than let you go.”

“Sap,” You accuse, and Bradley laughs.

His lips twist into a sheepish smile, “Maybe. You can be my tree. I’m stuck on you.”

You sniffle, brow furrowing, “Huh? ‘Cause of the sap thing?”

“Yeah,” He laughs, “Isn’t that what it means? Sticky and sweet like tree sap?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe bashfully, your voice rife with part confusion and part sheepishness, “I guess that makes sense. But I’ve never been called a tree before.”

“I’ll work on my flirting,” He promises, stroking his thumbs up and down your sides in soft, soothing motions, “Can we go home now?”

You nod, “You should hug your mom first.” Only then does Bradley remember that you’re not the only other person in the room, turning in your grip to see your mini crowd of adoring onlookers.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Hi, mom.”

“Hi baby,” She gushes, letting him squeeze her in a hug. He’s much more gentle with her, out of longing for you, not disrespect.

Nick reaches over to ruffle his hair and your dad nudges you sideways, “Happy to have him back?”

“Yeah,” You gush, a breathless whisper, “Nervous, though,” You admit, “What if he slips in the shower, or something? Or- or some freak accident happens and he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Your dad slings an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close by your shoulders, “He’ll be alright, kid. And hopefully by tomorrow he’ll remember everything, maybe look at some pictures tonight to jog his memory. Show him stuff you took of these past few weeks, the places you went or the food you ate.”

You don’t have any pictures of your pitiful motel room, nor the candy bars you’d raided the minifridge for, but you wouldn’t show them to Bradley if you did.

You nod, breaking away when Bradley searches for you after his hug with Carole, “Thanks, dad.”

“You gonna be okay getting settled tonight, Brad?” Nick asks, already bringing a french fry to his mouth from the bag in his hand. Your dad has your food as well as his own, and you take your bag back from him as Bradley nods.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, guys.”

Everyone says their hasty goodbyes, and your hug with Carole lasts a second longer than you hope anyone notices.

“Tell him.” She whispers against your ear, the words a feather light breath, “He loves you.”

“I’ll feed you in the car,” Bradley grabs the bag of food from your hand when you nudge him towards the exit, “Can I have fries?”

“You’ve been on a diet of chicken and potatoes for two days,” You take the hand that he offers you, curling your fingers around his, “You can have the whole burger if you want, Brad.”

Bradley stops short in front of the bronco when he sees it, “There she is!”

“She’s here,” You laugh, “Perfect condition. The air freshener’s still good.”

“Poor baby,” He heads for the passenger’s seat, swiping a hand over the hood of the car on his way, “She probably thought we forgot about her.”

He settles comfortably in the passenger’s seat, though you’re sure it feels awkward to be there in his own car. He throws his head back against the seat and sighs, long and loud, a noise he would have made fun of his dad for making mere years ago.

“Comfy?” You glance sideways at him, your food in his lap while he rests against the seat. He nods, reaching for the bag as you start up the engine.

“Here baby,” He calls, popping two fries in front of your mouth just before you turn out of the parking lot, “Fries.”

You carefully bite them out of his hand, tipping your head back to get them fully into your mouth. You mumble ‘thanks’ through them, and you’re not sure if he can make out what you’re saying, but you hope it’s obvious.

“I can’t wait to get in bed,” He groans, “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t remember being there for three weeks.”

“It’s cold without you,” You hum forlornly, checking your blind spot before merging, your hands stiff on the wheel. Your words leave more of an aftertaste on your tongue than the fries do, and it’s an unpleasant one. They mean more than you let on, and your brain is clouded thick with the worry of sleeping in a cold bed for the rest of your life. 

There’s a moment of silence that Bradley lets follow your words, then he promises, “I’ll be there tonight. And every night after that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Burger?”

He laughs, leaning in his seat when you turn, “Burger.”

He holds the food up to your mouth, letting you take a bite that smears sauce over your mouth. He takes a napkin, cleaning up after you and dabbing all of the mess away. You’re absolutely certain that if you weren’t on the road, he would have kissed it off. You make a mental note to eat just as messily when you get home, for experimental purposes.

“Can I have a bite?” He asks tentatively, and you turn at a red light to smile and nod.

“‘Course, Brad. I meant it, if you want it you can have the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to go hungry,” He hums, taking a chunk to the left of your bite mark, “Thanks, babe. Fuck, that's good.”

“Did they finish your cookies?” You exit the freeway, muscle memory guiding you home.

Bradley speaks through a mouthful of burger, unpleasant to hear but somehow endearingly domestic, like he’s not worried about looking handsome for you. “Yeah. I got one more, but they mowed through the rest.”

“Those bitches,” You hiss, and he laughs, “Okay, we’ll bake tomorrow. But I’m keeping the vanilla away from you.”

He scoffs, “Always with the vanilla. I drank it one time!”

“One time is enough for a lifetime ban!” You insist, turning onto your street, “Okay, you shower and I’ll eat, then we can get into bed.”

“Sounds good,” He drawls, stuffing your food back into its bag and swapping it to you for the keys, “I’ll be quick in the shower.”

“No rush,” You croon, holding the hand that he offers you as you take on the front walkway together, “Don’t hurt yourself because you’re too eager to get into bed. It’ll be there even if you take your time.”

You’re bound for the kitchen and Bradley the bedroom, but you remember you have to keep the lights off so that he doesn’t see your decorations. You send him off with a kiss at the hallway, intent on watching him leave before setting up at the table.

“Goodbye,” You hum, standing with your lips puckered in the doorway of the hall, “If you need help, just yell for me.”

“Will do,” He nods, puckering his own lips and pressing them to yours with a cartoonish smack! You watch his ginger walk towards the bedroom, his hips off balance as his ribs ache in his chest.

Once you’re in the clear you flick the kitchen light on, choosing to stand at the counter instead of dirty the table. You busy yourself with your phone, tapping on an impatient text from Carole: ‘Have you told him yet?’

Not yet. You write back, munching on a french fry, Not in the car. He didn’t ask, either.

- Don’t lose your nerve, you can almost hear the critical tone of her voice just by reading her message, The longer you lie, the more he’ll worry about you.

I know. I’ll tell him.

- ❤️

“Babe?” You hear Bradley call over the stream of the shower, “Babe!”

You abandon the last few fries in the container, stuffing your phone into your pocket to rush to his aide. Horror flashes through your mind, visions of Bradley bleeding down the drain or hunched over in pain.

All you see when you burst into the bathroom is him looking like a puppy in the rain, a pitiful pout on his face as water runs down his face and through his mustache.

“I can’t wash my hair,” He laments, “It hurts.”

You can’t help but coo, “Oh, baby. Lemme help you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbles, “I already have the shampoo.”

True to his word, there’s shampoo smeared over his hands. Apparently he’d tried his best, but couldn’t move well enough with his broken ribs. You try not to laugh at his misfortune, especially because he’s in pain, but he’s just too cute to ignore. You try to muscle down the thought that this might be the last time you ever shower with Bradley, even if you’re not really in the water with him. You wet your hands, then wipe the shampoo off of his palms, reaching for his scalp.

“I’m sorry I’m making you stand in front of me naked and we’re not having sex,” Bradley huffs, “Believe me, if I thought I could, I’d be jumping you right about now.”

“It’s okay,” You chuckle, muffling the sound into Bradley’s forehead that you kiss chastely, “We should hold off on sex, at least until your ribs are healed.

Or until you know the truth.

“They don’t hurt too bad now,” Bradley muses, “But when I raised my arms to shampoo, it was really bad.”

“I’ll reach for things for you,” You promise, scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. It knocks loose leftover ash from his accident, and it flows down the drain in a swirl of gray bubbles.

“Oh, fuck,” For not having sex, Bradley’s making some awfully pornographic sounds, “That feels good.”

“I’ll bet,” you hum, “Can’t imagine having ash in my hair for that long.”

“It’s not pleasant. Oh god, babe,” He groans, “Hurry up and rinse it out, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.”

“Okay! Okay,” You laugh, scrubbing in one last circle at the nape of his neck then reaching for the showerhead, “Have you washed your body already?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, letting the water flow through his hair and rinse the shampoo out, “Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like.”

“Come on,” You smile, reaching for a towel, “Do you need help drying off?”

“You just wanna feel up my thighs,” Bradley accuses, and you laugh good-naturedly.

“Nope. Ass.” You admit, “But if you can do it yourself, then go ahead.”

“No!” He catches you as you stuff the towel to his chest, pulling you back towards the shower, “Uh, I need help. I think you should wipe down my very toned chest and my tight butt.”

“Oh, really? That’s what you’re having trouble with?” You snicker, and Bradley nods proudly.

“Yep. Can’t get my hands over my shredded back either, such a shame.”

“Alright, you flirt,” You scoff, “Turn around.”

You start on his back, and of course, it’s very fit. It’s nothing you haven’t touched before, in fact, you’re surprised there’s no scars there from your fingernails, but this is more intimate, more romantic, more sweet. This is love, not lust. You scrub the towel over his skin, wiping the water droplets away and rubbing into his tight muscles. You take extra care to dry off the small of his back, smoothing the towel down over his ass, too. Despite his earlier cheekiness, he doesn’t make any comments while you’re working. You wrap the towel around his thighs, pressing a kiss to his hip as you bend down to dry his calves off. He stands still to let you get his ankles dry, and you tap his foot to turn him around.

Now he’s looking down at you as you towel off his calves again, getting any splotches of water you may have missed before. You dry out the soft tuft of hair at his groin and move to his chest before you can tempt yourself, not wanting your first sexual encounter after a life-threatening plane crash to be a blowjob up against the shower wall. Especially not before you tell him the truth.

Now that you’re on your feet you’re face-to-face, though yours is bent slightly to track any water droplets you might have missed on his shoulders. You towel off his underarms carefully, making sure not to aggravate his muscles that are already bleeding pain through his gut. You swipe the towel over his neck, and in doing so, you’ve set your hand just below his chin. It’s as natural as breathing to slide it up his jaw, and he’s already staring at you, breath shaky as you return his gaze.

He moves first, but you take his cue right away. He leans in to kiss you and you’re happy to press your mouth to his own, not caring that there’s a drop of water leftover between his fingers that transfers to your skin when he cups your face.

“Baby,” He whimpers, desperate and longing, “I- I missed you.”

There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and you manage a sad smile when you wipe them away, “Why, silly? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“I know. I just- I’m real shaken up,” He admits, “I- I don’t even remember the crash and that’s the scary part. I almost died and I’ve got no clue what happened. I feel lost, like- like I’m still stalling or something, just waiting to crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” You croon through your own tears, “Brad, that must be so scary, I- I can’t even imagine.”

“I just need you,” He breathes, clutching at your shoulders like they’ll recover his plane, “Just don’t leave, please.”

“Sweetheart,” You coo, equally endeared and saddened by his sudden panic, “We're not at the hospital anymore, there's no visiting hours. Why would I leave? We're home, we’re gonna get changed, and then we’re gonna go to sleep. You’re safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” He nods, voice a mere whisper, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Clothes first,” You remind him through a cheeky grin, and the expression scrunches your tear-stained cheeks, cracking the stiffened substance, “We’re sleeping.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs as you poke at his bare chest, “Will you help me? I managed to bend over and slide my t-shirt off but I don’t think putting something on will be as easy.”

“Mhm. I was hoping,” You reach for the sets of matching pajamas, holding them up enticingly, “You’d match with me?”

He laughs, the sound thick and genuine in his bruised chest, “Of course. I won’t look as good as you, though.”

“Yeah, my mustache is better,” You sigh, scratching a nail over your upper lip that’s morphing into a grin. You whirl on him with his shirt, helping ease his arms into the fabric and stretching the neck hole over his head so that he doesn’t have to bend down. All in all, it works, even if the neckline is a little stretched. He doesn’t need help with his pants, but you feel compelled to do it anyways, sliding his boxers and then the soft material up his legs and tying it tight at the waistband.

“Thanks, honey.” He murmurs, bending at the waist and sitting on his side of the bed, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Lay down,” You push against his chest, helping him recline against his pillows, “I’ll be right back, B.”

You change quickly, too eager to crawl into bed beside Bradley to care that you’ve left one bite of burger and a few lone fries on the counter. Ants be damned, you’ll clean up tomorrow. When you emerge from the closet you wriggle happily beneath the covers next to Bradley, flicking the light by the doorway off so that all that’s left is your bedside lamp.

When you settle on your pillow he’s already looking at you, and the tip of his nose bumps your own. You melt into a girlish giggle, something that a teenager would produce after a particularly bad pickup line and a single red rose.

“Hi,” You gush, overjoyed to have him so close again. You kiss his nose in your fervent enthusiasm, and he smiles sleepily against his pillow.

“Hi,” He hums, reaching for your waist and pulling you close, “C’mere.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” You stiffen, but he molds your body to his anyways, “Brad, be careful.”

“I will be! I said it before, you can’t break me. Just let me hold you.”

You croon a sad sound as he wraps you in his arms, a sound of longing, of adoration, of grief. He clocks it as sweetness, though, and holds you close. Your face is buried in his chest and you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks.

“Y/N,” He starts, and your heart rate spikes at just your name, “About earlier-”

“Tomorrow.” You blurt, anguish rising in your chest, “Brad, can we- can we talk tomorrow? I’m not trying to hide from you,” You promise, but you’re nestled into his chest and muffling your voice, “I trust you with the way that I'm feeling, I just- I just want to sleep. I want to breathe for a minute. And we can talk tomorrow, is that okay?”

He takes a moment to deliberate, really, truly thinking about it. While he does so, your hands tighten in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. But eventually he nods, disjointedly so into the crown of your head, “Okay.” His hands tighten around your waist as he speaks, and you melt into his embrace, scooting impossibly closer. “Okay, honey, we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just sleep.”

Settling into his embrace has never been so easy. Since the moment you'd been in them for the first time only hours old in the hospital, you’d known his arms were made for holding you. They’ve been yours for as long as you can remember, even longer than that according to the photo album you’d skimmed through earlier. Bradley had been the third person to hold you, second only to your parents. Sure, he couldn’t remember it either, and Nick and Carole were probably doing most of the work keeping you balanced in his little lap, but the point is, he was made for holding you, and you were made for being held by him. Your face tucks so naturally under the curve of his chin and your lips press even easier to his throat, kissing at his voice that you love so much. It comes out to thank you for the adoration in a gentle hum, one that thrums against your lips. 

His hands revel in their access to the extent of your back, brushing and roving and stroking over every inch of the space he’s granted. It’s ticklish but you don’t dare squirm, letting his fingers send miniscule bolts of electricity through your skin.

“I love you,” He reminds you as he holds you close, the sleepiness fogging his brain clear as day in his voice, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You promise, kissing up his chin to his lips. The pecks you plant there are short, sweet, and chaste, but when you’re done laying them over his face you decide that you want to fall asleep facing him, not hidden away in his chest. Sure, it’s warm and safe there, but you can’t drift off to his sweet face if you can’t see it.

Your solution is to plop your head back onto your pillow, throwing a leg over his waist to keep yourself close. His eyes are droopy, and hold all of the tender sweetness of the puppies he so often resembles. He’s clearly exhausted, and your own eyes slip shut at the sight of his struggling to stay open.

“Night, Brad.” You yawn, settling against your pillow with the tip of your nose brushing his own, “Welcome home.”

“Night, baby. Love you,” He gushes, as if you hadn’t just exchanged the words seconds prior. But it feels good, it feels right, so you say it back.

“Love you, too.” You use the last of your energy to reciprocate, sleep taking hold of you in its comforting embrace. You slip away like sand into unconsciousness, all of your thoughts about love, and life, and Bradley, and none of the horrific possibility of his memories returning. Nothing’s going to ruin this moment for you, not now.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[redvexillum]

Alastor baking you cookies because its your birthday and they come out tasting just like your grandmothers old recipe your family lost when she went missing. While you guys are eating them Rosie comes in and asks about them and he says he made this recipe when he was alive and stole a family cookbook from a victim he ate.

I was sleep deprived and totally misread your ask and added a lot of my own flair to this and ended up writing whatever this is. I almost followed your request to the tee - "almost" being the operative word. Basically I wrote smut. Don't ask me how. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

A/N: I am contemplating on a part two (plot heavy), but as it stands now, this is a one shot.

SUMMARY: Alastor, the love of your life with an insatiable need when it comes to your flesh.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, fluff if you really squint super hard, alastor is in hell for a reason, blood kink, implied cannibalism, established relationship, possessive/obsessive love, p in v, love at first bite

You never imagined meeting the love of your life in Hell. The mere thought would have your family doing somersaults in their graves – if they weren’t already in Hell or Heaven themselves. Yet here you were, surrounded by the strange beauty of the underworld.  

Fireflies, glowing like tiny flickering��embers, danced around you, their soft light wrapping you and your love in a shimmering embrace. The marshy grass beneath you sank under your weight, while tall, gnarled trees bent over, casting a long shadow in the dim light. The distant chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets echoed the bayou you loved when you were alive.  

It filled you with warmth that the demon – the man – you fell for shared that sentiment. The earthy, musky scent in the air brought back memories of summers spent trekking to your grandmama’s cottage. But those sweet memories quickly turned bitter as you recalled the last moments you had with her.  

“Focus on me, my dear,” came the crackling, layered voice of Alastor. His eyes, glowing red like the fires of Hell, burned into you. The sharp points of his claws traced a slow, deliberate path from your hip up to your sides, before he stretched his arms out to clasp your wrists. He brought your hands to frame your face, his imposing form looming over you.  

Your eyes roamed over his features, taking in the twitch of his big, fluffy ears atop his head each time your breath hitched. His large, unblinking eyes tracked every tremor, every shudder that wracked your body. Whereas the most intimidating feature of him, his teeth – his sharp, dangerous teeth – glistened with saliva as he trapped you beneath him, bare and vulnerable.  

Lowering his head, his grip around your wrists tightened as his tongue laved against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He moaned in a depraved tone that would scandalize the ladies of your time. The sound he made was reminiscent of when he had a particularly delightful time eating a hunk of fresh Sinner’s meat in Cannibal Town.  

His hot tongue continued to suckle, as if trying to drink in the blood pumping quicker and quicker beneath the thin layer of your skin.  

Heat and pressure lanced through you, coursing down every nerve ending before igniting in your core. Your breath came out in louder gasps from each suck, urging Alastor to bring his hips closer to your aching centre until you couldn’t tell where you ended, and he began.  

“Mhm,” he hummed, “patience, darling,” he murmured, trailing kisses up your neck, leaving a cool trail along the edge of your chin before hovering close to your lips. “All good things must be savoured, love,” he grinned, as if the very word ‘love’ was the funniest joke he had ever heard in all layers of Hell.  

Stifling your whimper, you closed your eyes, trying to endure Alastor’s relentless teasing. Lovemaking with him was a torment of pleasure, his games designed to push you to the brink until your eyes watered from the unbearable barb of desire that prickled before sinking a thousand sharp claws into you.  

When you reached that pinnacle, sobbing for relief, Alastor’s red, intense eyes would nearly lose focus as he savoured your expression. He would then take you with a fervour as if it were his last act before his final breath.  

His love, if it could be described with one word, would be: voracious.  

His hands and body immobilized you, leaving you to writhe under the weight of his control and desires. He pressed the shaft of his hardened cock right up against the lips of your entrance. You almost cried, desperate to grind against him to relieve the pressure, the throbbing, the heat that built steadily inside you without any sign of granting you reprieve.  

A whimper escaped your lips, causing his ears to twitch, before he groaned against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath came in short bursts, his body trembling before he finally relented. Pressing, pressing, and pressing against your core, grinding and coating his cock with your essence.  

“Al-Alastor,” your voice, thin and wispy, barely made it past your throat, “p-please?” Your pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears. Alastor’s muscles seized, and he drew back, the grin on his face slowly splitting past his cheeks.  

“Please, what?” his lips curled with wicked delight as his eyes danced with amusement.  

Despite being with him for over half a century and sharing your body in an act of union for hundreds of nights and mornings, you could still feel the heat blistering your cheeks.  

Trembling, you fought against his grip around your wrists, but he pressed your arms down, letting the soft, marshy grass embrace your form. You wanted to embrace him, feel the warmth of his chest against yours, feel the thrum of his heartbeat pounding as he continued to ravage you.  

“Most improper, a lady must not act like some wanton whore in front of an unmarried man,” your grandmama’s voice echoed in your ears. Yet, despite both you and he being unmarried and sinning in front of the Lord by indulging in each other’s flesh, this was Hell. Here, propriety didn’t matter. Here, you could be true to your desires.  

“Please,” tears of uncontrolled shame pricked your eyes, “I want you, love.” Unlike the way Alastor said ‘love,’ your tongue wrapped around the word, caressing the sound as you infused it with every drop of your feelings that resided within your heart.  

You wondered if Alastor knew how much you meant to him. How much you truly loved him despite both being damned as cursed creatures.

Alastor shuddered an exhalation before his lips touched yours, sinking into your embrace. He melded with you, stretching you to make his presence known.  

A sharp yelp ripped away from your throat as Alastor increased his pace, his hips slapping against your core. The wet, sodden mud squelched beneath you, mingling perfectly with the sound of your bodies coming together over and over again.  

His hardened cock bruised the inside of you, each thrust making your body shudder. His forehead drifted lower to rest against your shoulder, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin. His claws freed your wrists, now grasping your hips with a possessive intensity.

In and out. You moaned as your fingers found purchase on the back of his head, clutching his hair tightly. In and out. His cock slide with ease through your dripping arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your core.

The sound of the artificial bayou melted away, replaced by the sounds of your keening and lovemaking. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire. Legs wrapping around his waist, you sobbed as his cock penetrated you, going deeper and deeper with each powerful stroke.

You were so close, the tension coiling tightly within you, and Alastor knew it. He growled like a feral animal, his grip tattooing your skin with the shape of his fingers. He doubled down, fucking you into the ground with relentless fury. His movements were uncontrolled, each thrust a testament to his desire, as he drove you toward the edge.

Your voice, broken in staccato, climbed higher and higher, your peak approaching at dizzying speed. With one particularly hard slam of his hips, your breath was knocked out of you. Head spinning with vertigo, your eyes rolled back as your spine arched upward as if a current of electricity shot through you.  

Your walls fluttered against the molten heat of his cock, clenching tightly around him, beckoning him to join you in release.  

Raising his head, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Warm breath tickled the sensitive nerve as he spoke, his words mingling with his breath. “How sweet your voice is, darling,” he murmured, grinding the front of his hips against your swollen, wet centre.  

“Al - t-too mu-mu-ah!” you managed to choke out before he jerked his hips, kissing the deepest part of you with the head of his cock.  

“Let me taste you, my sweetheart,” he groaned, his tongue licking the same spot he always gravitated towards. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 

If there was one thing that was peculiar with Alastor, it was that he could never finish unless he bit you, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to drink your life’s vitality.

Soft moans filtered through your lips as you lolled your head to the side, like prey on its back, open and submissive. Your neck bared for him to bite you however he pleased. Still, the tremor continued to infect your nerves. No matter how many times he had done this, you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper from escaping as you fidgeted under him. 

“Shh,” he soothed quietly, his cock buried deep within you. “You know you love it when I make you feel this way. Just give into me, darling,” his tone pitched high as he tried to smother away his chuckles. “Let me hear you beg for it,” his words laced with a dark, sinister tone.  

His breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation was a blend of ice and fire, each touch shooting liquid heat through your veins. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the deliberate, slow pace driving you to the brink of madness despite finishing first. Your body responded to his every move, arching into him, craving more.

Always, craving more.  

When his teeth finally sank into your flesh, the pain seared through you. But immediately after, it was followed by a wave of euphoria, a release so intense it squeezed the breath out from you. The contrasting sensations of pain and pleasure intertwined, and you responded by clenching around him tightly.  

Alastor’s grip punctured your skin, his hips moving with a renewed urgency. His growls of satisfaction reverberated through your body, a primal sound that echoed in your ears. You could feel the pull of his lips, the suction as he drew your blood, mingling with the heavy thump of your heartbeat pounding in your head.  

Your lips traced over the letter of his name over and over again. The thick scent of metal blended perfectly with the earthy scent of the bayou.  

Dizzying.

Intoxicating.

Addicting.

“My dear,” he moaned into your skin, “give me more,” his voice a long, drawn-out purr as his pace slowed. A loud exhalation accompanied the throbbing of his cock inside you. He poured into you, filling you to the brim while continuing to suck and consume your essence. 

As his hips slowed to a stop, he stayed buried within you, his tongue meticulously licking you clean of any crimson liquid that escaped your wound. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body going limp as you surrendered to Alastor’s ministrations, letting him savour the moment for as long as he desired.  

His lips remained affixed to your neck, drawing out every last drop, until his cock finally softened and slipped out of you.  

He slowly drew himself up, and you could see the faint stain of your blood shading his teeth as he grinned. Leaning his forehead against yours, he said, “Sweetheart,” in a southern drawl that reminded you of the people from your hometown from bygones past.  

A worm that continued to fester and grow inside you, feasting on your brain matter, squirmed its way through your thoughts. His tone was so familiar, like you’d heard it before, but the memory was shrouded by static, a white noise that covered what your mind was trying to recall.  

When his claws reached your cheek, you knew he was waiting to hear the words you always whispered after every intimate moment you shared.  

“I love you,” you said softly against his lips. He hummed in approval. He never said those words back, but you knew that men were taught to be stoic, as you had seen countless times while growing up.  

He chuckled lightly as he returned your kiss, the saltiness of your blood mingling with the taste of his tongue as it plunged into your mouth. He licked and massaged the sensitive walls inside you, each stroke sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. You felt a small twitch of his cock resting against your cum-soaked inner thighs. 

As he pulled away, his eyes softened, the fierce red glow dimming into a warm ember. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a rare tender tone. “I have a surprise for you.” 

A well of emotions burst from your heart, flooding you with warmth and gratitude. You showered him with kisses, your lips trailing over his own and across his cheeks. Each kiss was proof of your love, a silent thank you for remembering and cherishing your special day. Despite the passage of countless years, he had never once forgotten your birthday.  

He closed his eyes, his grin softening around the edge as he basked in your adoration. His hands stroked your side, soothing and comforting. The weight of his affection wrapped around you like a toasty warm blanket.  

At that moment, you felt completely and utterly cherished, every fibre of your being attuned to the demon who held your heart in his clawed hands.  

You sat on the chair, your nerves buzzing with excitement as Alastor sat across from you. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin against his hands. His grin widened, eyes squinting with a mischievous glint. Rolling his head slightly to the left, his right hand snapped his fingers. A plate of cookies appeared before you.  

You blinked once, then twice, in sheer disbelief. Alastor had cooked for you before, but as he wasn’t a fan of sweets, he had never once attempted to bake anything for you. The sight of the cookies made your cheeks flush with warmth, and giddy delight filled your heart.  

“Thank you, Al,” you beamed, your smile bright and sincere. You reached for the first cookie on the plate, noticing how it was baked to perfection. You giggled lightly as you weren’t surprised as Alastor did everything perfectly. There was nothing he couldn’t do.  

The rich smell of butter hit your nose first, and you muffled a squeal of delight as you recognized the familiar scents of nutmeg and cinnamon.  

You took the first bite, and your eyes widened. The crunch was perfect, and the taste of times long passed flooded your senses. Tears welled up as you slowly looked at the cookie now bearing your bite mark.  

It tasted like home.  

Gritting your teeth, you swallowed the bite along with your unshed tears.  

You took another bite. 

Memories surged forward – your grandmama stroking your head as you munched on her cookies. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her gentle touch.  

Another bite.  

The memory of her warm smile greeting you at the door, the comforting smell of cinnamon filling her cozy cottage.  

One final bite.  

The image of her packing cookies into your wicker basket to share with your family, knowing full well you would finish the rest as you walked through the bayou.  

Despite the intense desire to sob your eyes out, you chose to laugh instead, wanting to celebrate this moment with happiness and gratitude. You stared at Alastor, your heart swelling with so much love for the man who let you experience your most treasured memories with stark clarity. “Al, thank –” 

Your voice was cut off by a knock on Alastor’s door. It swung open to reveal one of Alastor’s very good friends, Rosie.

“Alastor!” Rosie exclaimed as she strolled in, her dainty fingers covering a giggle. “Oh, you’re with your sweetheart,” she said, her depthless eyes curved with amusement and her sharp white teeth glinted from the dim light. “I won’t take up too much of your time.” 

“Oh, nonsense, Rosie,” Alastor waved his hand, summoning a shadow tendril to drag your chair so you would be sitting right next to him. “Do stay for a chat! It is my sweetheart's birthday, after all! It’ll be a party!” He stretched his arms out theatrically, the room seeming to pulse with his infectious energy, making you laugh from his cute gesture. 

“Is it now?” Rosie’s face lit up with delight. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” 

You smiled brightly in response thanking her as Alastor snapped his fingers and another chair materialized by the table.

Rosie gracefully took a seat across from Alastor, looking down at the plate of cookies and tilting her head, confused. “Didn’t think you would change your taste for sweets now!” she remarked, leaning closer to inspect the cookies.  

Alastor’s hand naturally rested against the top of your thigh, his claws lightly grazing the sensitive skin. Though hidden beneath the table, his touch sent a wave of embarrassment blanketing your body, but you did nothing to push him away. His touch was a peculiar comfort, a reminder of his constant presence in your life.  

“Oh ho!” He laughed, his voice rich and resonant. “This is a gift for my sweetheart, and I daresay, it’s a hit!” 

Distracting yourself from Alastor’s claws slowly drifting closer and closer to your inner thighs, you nodded emphatically. “It’s really delicious!” You glanced over at Alastor, your eyes shining with genuine appreciation. “It’s probably the tastiest cookies I’ve eaten since coming down here!” 

“Oh, you lovebirds,” Rosie giggled as she teased lightly. She picked up a cookie, inspecting it with a curious tilt of her head. “Did you add some special meat into this?” she asked with a dark, mischievous smile.  

Your shoulders jolted up, a chill running down your spine as you looked at the plate of cookies. Alastor knew how you felt about eating other Sinners. He had reassured you time and time again that he wouldn’t push you to indulge in such a macabre practice.  

Alastor laughed boisterously, his hand still smoothing against the top of your thigh. “Oh, heavens no!” he exclaimed. You felt a wave of relief settle within you. “The recipe was from an elderly woman I’ve met in the bayou back when I was alive.” He snickered darkly, his hand climbing up closer to the apex of your thighs. “I wasn’t a fan of her taste, if you know what I mean.”  He waggled his brows, making it clear of the true meaning behind his words.

Rosie tittered in response and you... 

You froze.  

His words slowly sank into the depth of your mind. Your brows knitted together, the warmth that had previously suffused your chest turning icy. Dropping your hands, you grasped Alastor’s hand that was on you, a plea for stability, a plea that you heard wrong.  

“She had a cookbook, I believe it was called...” Alastor hummed, tapping his lips as his eyes rolled upward, trying to retrieve the lost information.  

“Cooking in the Bayou,” you whispered, the words slipping out involuntarily. It was a book your grandmama cherished, filled with recipes passed down from generation to generation. 

The sharp snap of his fingers shattered the frigid air, his smile morphing into a sinister grin before your very eyes. “That’s right!” he confirmed; his voice filled with eerie delight.  

He didn't ask how you knew the name of the cookbook.

The rest of Alastor’s and Rosie’s conversation drowned in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Alastor. Your gaze fixated on the plate of cookies as your stomach churned with nausea.  

His hand, heavy on your thigh, continued its ministrations, gentle strokes as he laughed and talked with Rosie.  

You were on autopilot, politely nodding and smiling, pretending to hear the words that came out of their lips. Yet, your mind buzzed with the same white noise that had plagued you for years, ever since you first heard Alastor’s southern drawl peeking out from beneath his radio-static filter.  

The static grew louder and louder, engulfing your thoughts until you felt as if you were entering a void. And then, as if tearing through the very fabric of your reality, the words that had been lurking in the shadows of your mind finally broke free. 

The pupae of truth that had writhed within your consciousness finally transformed, bursting through its thin membrane. Clarity washed over you, harsh and undeniable.  

Every fond memory, every tender moment, every laugh shared with him now felt like a cruel joke.  

Rosie’s laughter echoed hollowly in your ears, a distant and mocking sound. Alastor’s touch now felt like a brand, burning into your skin. The room seemed to spin around you, the walls closing in as the weight of the truth threatened to crush you.  

Alastor’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he continued his conversation, oblivious to the turmoil that was shredding apart your sanity. He turned his head to face you when he noticed you now openly staring at him. He smiled at you, his grip on your thigh tightening.  

Alastor was the man who had killed and eaten your grandmama. 

Alastor was the man who had killed you.  

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[aliendes]

One More Day (S.Coups)

a/n: SURPRISE! posting a day early cause ill be out of town tomorrow. here is 64 pages or 33k words of a cheol Christmas fic! reminders to HEAD THE WARNINGS, there is some deep stuff in this one. MDNI as always, esp since there is an added smut scene at the end. alsooooo remember this is a rewrite to a fic i did in 2020, so if it feels familiar, that is why. there are lots of addedd things and scenes, tho so hopefully it feels different enough. i only proofread this once cause its a doozy so if you see mistakes or I need to update tags PLS let me know. anywayyyyys, here's my behemoth of a fic. enjoy! warnings under the cut

w/c: 33.3k~ whoooooooooa!

banners & images made by me!

warnings: NSFW, smut MDNI, minor character deaths, talks of car accidents, su*cide attempt, talks of past attempts, reader is depressed af, drinking, eating, reader smokes cigarettes (its a plot point ok), cheol maybe ooc?, kissing, cursing, fingering, oral fem receiving, soft sex, messy dirty sex but make it loving, breeding kink KIND OF, p in v sex, no protection reader is on birth control, blonde seungcheol (yes that's a warning) and joshua is an asshole for the first half of the fic don't worry it gets better. let me know if I missed anything

You stood on the deck of your parents cabin, staring out at the frozen over lake, shrouded in darkness. You couldn’t remember what time it was, or really even what day it was, just that you needed to get away for awhile. Your breath was turning into white clouds around your face, and then drifting up into the atmosphere. It was calming in a way. Freezing, but calming. 

It was the middle of December, nearly Christmas, what used to be your favorite time of year. You and your mom, dad, and older brother Joshua would come up to this cabin and spend two weeks at the end of every year. Your dad and brother would always find the tallest tree for the living room of the cabin, with it’s high vaulted ceilings. You and your mom would spend hours decorating the tree, always turning out like a Better Homes & Garden magazine cover. Your mom loved to decorate, and she was damn good at it. You and Joshua would bake cookies together, despite your mom’s protests over Joshua being in the kitchen. He was always a disaster waiting to happen when you were younger, though that has changed with age. You can still taste the gingerbread like it was yesterday. You smiled slightly, remembering what Christmas used to be like. Now, Christmas was a shitty reminder of what used to be.

It’s been 7 years since the last time you were all together at this cabin. Nearly 6 years since your parents death, and 3 years since you last saw or spoke to your brother. You knew he was doing well, living it up in the big city of Seoul. He was a big-shot writer, and you would hear about him and his accomplishments through friends of friends or your neighborhood aunties. You were proud of him. Not that he would ever believe that, and it’s not like you would ever have the chance to tell him.

For the last few years, you had been coming up to the cabin alone. You always took two weeks off work and spent that time trying to keep your parents spirits alive in the form of Christmas cookies and movies. It was your own way of coping with their absence. Joshua found his ways of coping by blocking the memories out, you found yours in a glass of wine and a couple cigarettes out on this deck. Speaking of which, you should probably light one up now, you’ve been standing here for a while now.

Just as you were reaching in your pocket for your lighter, you heard a snapping sound from the left of the deck, startling you in your place, cigarette still hanging from your chapped lips. You turned your head towards the noise, face scrunched in confusion, almost giving yourself whiplash. No one should be out here at this time, you thought to yourself. You pocketed your lighter and took the cigarette between your fingers, slowly walking towards the edge of the deck. Sue you, you had a curious mind. Joshua always used to tell you it would get you killed one day. Not like you cared much anymore. 

“Holy shit!” you gasped, nearly throwing your cigarette, when you saw a figure walk out from between the trees lining your property and the one next to it. It was a man you didn’t recognize. You squint your eyes slightly to try and see better in the dark. He stepped closer to your with both hands raised in front of him as a way to placate you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I -” he started, but trailed off almost like he forgot what he was going to say. You raised a brow at him, still unsure of the stranger. “I’m Choi Seungcheol, I live next door. I promise I’m not a creep or anything, I just noticed you standing out here for a while and wanted to make sure you weren’t locked out or something, I - I, yeah that sounded creepy. I’m sorry.” He rushed out the last words, looking almost sheepish. 

Cute.

You stood there for a second too long, and Seungcheol, as you now knew him, looked almost like he was about to bolt back in the direction he came. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll g-”

“No, it’s ok.” You let out a deep sigh and chuckled darkly, no humor to be found. “You just startled me, is all.” You said with what you hoped was a small smile. It wasn’t, Seungcheol noted, but he didn’t care, just glad you were responding at all.

Another beat passes, “... so are you alright - did you need help?” He drawled, unsure of where the conversation was headed. 

“No, no. This is my par- mine- my house. Well, not my permanent house, but you probably already knew that.” You stuttered. He must’ve realized the house next door to him was vacant 11 months out of the year, right?

 “Ah yeah, I kind of figured that out.” he took a hesitant step forward. When he saw you weren’t running for the hills, he slowly made his way into the illumination provided by the floodlights on the back porch. You took in his features now that you could see them better. He had bleach blonde hair that looked a little fried, but that suited him nicely, large, doe-like brown eyes, and plump, cherry-like lips that were more than a little distracting. Had you not been in a crippling depression, you may have thought he was pretty handsome, you may have shot your shot with this pretty neighbor. He ran his hand through his yellow  locks, “This house is usually empty, I only notice it occupied around this time of year. I’m assuming it’s your vacation house? You said it’s your parents place, right?” He took hesitant steps up to the deck.

So he caught that. Damn. “Was.” You stated simply. “It was my parents place. It’s mine now, I come here alone.” Seungcheol knew that. He’s lived next door for 8 years now, on and off. Every Christmas for the last few years, you’d been alone. He wasn’t a creeper, but he did notice you smoking those nasty cigarettes out on this very deck, alone, every single year. He remembers you used to come here with someone. A boyfriend maybe? It wasn’t his place to ask. 

He’s at the bottom of the steps that lead up to your deck, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. Pity? No, there’s no way he knows what’s going on in your mind. He hesitates a moment before - “Are you ok?” 

The question catches you off guard. Were you ok? You knew the answer was a big, fat no. But was that something you should share with him? A near stranger? Aside from the obvious questions you had, when was the last time someone asked you that? You couldn’t remember anyone caring enough about you in the last few years to even utter those words to you. The only people you interacted with were your coworkers, who didn’t give a shit about your personal life. All your boss cared about was that you got the job done, not about your emotions. You almost wanted to trust this man, share with him how you’re feeling, God knows you need it. You’ve been staring at him for too long, he must think you’re crazy now. You shake your head slightly to rid yourself of the thought. “Yeah. Yeah I’m good.” You mutter, looking anywhere but his eyes. 

He pauses for a moment before speaking slowly. “Look, it’s not really my place to pry, but you’ve been standing out here in the freezing cold for over an hour.” Had it really been that long? Now that you think about it your hands and face were pretty freezing. “Do you want to maybe go inside?”

“With you?” you asked, slightly startled at his proposition. 

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you had a distant thought that he looked oddly adorable like that. “No! No, no. I mean unless you want to come to my house?” He half asked, slightly confused, eyes narrowing at his own question, shaking his head. “I just meant, you aren’t really dressed for the 3 degree weather, don’t you think you should maybe head back inside?” 

Oh. He was just being nice. You weren’t used to this. Leave it to you to jump to weird conclusions. You cocked your head to the side, looking at him with a dumb look. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “I was actually just about to smoke a cigarette, then I’ll head inside.” He gave you another unreadable look, and slowly started to nod.

“O- ok then.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

“Do you smoke?”

“Oh no, I don’t. Thank you though.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at you, like he didn’t want to offend you.

“I’m not offended you know, I know most people think it’s a nasty habit.” You took the lighter back out of your front pocket and put the cigarette to your now very cold, very dry lips. “Want to sit with me?” You asked after you took your first drag of the cigarette.

Seungcheol looked back towards his house, and then back at you. “Yeah, let me go grab a coat and I’ll be right back.” he stuttered out. You hadn’t even noticed he was only wearing jeans and a flannel. Poor guy, you’ve been staring stupidly at him for at least 15 minutes, he must be freezing by now. 

“Take your time.” You waved him off as he jogged briskly past the trees and shrubs. You watched him enter his back porch and saw a few lights flicker on, then off again. Taking another drag from your cigarette, you looked back out over the lake. Leaning your elbows on the deck railing, you realized you were, in fact, freezing in nothing but a long sleeve t-shirt and pajama pants. You didn’t intend to be out here this long, only meaning to smoke one cigarette and head back inside, only to lose track of time.

“Want to sit down?” Seungcheol’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, slightly startling you. “Sorry - didn’t mean to scare you again” he laughed dryly. He pulled a couple of the deck chairs closer to the railing and sat down. It was then that you noticed he was now wearing a thick winter coat, and in his hands he held another coat, and what looked suspiciously like a blanket. You raised an eyebrow at him, but slowly walked towards the chair, holding your cigarette away from Seungcheol, respectful of others' distaste for the smell.

As you sat down in the chair to Seungcheol’s right, he dully shook the coat he was holding in your direction with a raised brow. A silent offering. “Thanks.” You muttered lamely, taking the coat from him. It was thick, and smelled citrus-y. Oranges? With maybe a hint of cloves. It smelled manly, it smelled nice, wrapping you in his scent when you threw it over your shoulders. 

“No problem” he gruffed out. His deep voice was soothing your cold soul at the moment, a feeling you haven’t had in a long time. “I- I brought a blanket” he hesitates, slowly unfolding the blanket, watching your face to make sure what he was about to do was alright, “is this ok?” he asks as he set the unfolded blanket over yours and his legs. You nod at him, taking another drag from your cigarette. Once the blanket is situated, he grabs one of the legs of your chair and pulls it closer to his in a quick show of strength, so the blanket drapes all the way over you. You offer him a small smile, and then turn your head to blow the smoke in the other direction. “I don’t mind the smoke, you know. My older brother smokes like a train, I’m used to it.” 

You smirk at him. “Are you implying I smoke like a train?”

“N-no! No, of course not - that’s not, that isn’t” he starts to stutter, shaking his head, thick eyebrows scrunching cutely.

“Relax, Seungcheol. I was kidding.” You let out as you exhale your last bit of smoke, putting your cigarette out on the deck floor. You should probably bring an ashtray up here with you next time you visit, which was becoming more and more infrequent as time went on. You used to come up here in the summer with Joshua, too, but those days were long gone. 

He ducked his head slightly, the flood light illuminating the side of his face from behin. He really was beautiful, you noticed. A strong, slanted nose, with cute puffy cheeks, a defined jawline and those plump lips. They were a little red from being out in the cold, but cute nonetheless. They kind of reminded you of cherries. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that..” he starts to trail off, realizing he doesn’t know your name.

“YN. Sorry - my name is YN.” You stutter out, embarrassed at not having had the manners to introduce yourself before.

“YN.” He tries it out on his tongue. He likes the way it sounds. “Pretty.” He noted, face heating after he realized what he said. You smiled at him, the first genuine smile he’s seen all night and he realizes he likes it, and wants to see more of it, preferably in the near future. He gives you a bright smile in return. “What brings you out here, at -” he quickly pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at the time, “- nearly midnight?”

“Oh you know, just dealing with life.” You glance out into the distance, back at that damned lake. Seungcheol must have sensed your distress, because he is quickly switching the subject.

“It’s really pretty out here this time of year.” He states, lamely, looking out at the lake with you. “The lake freezes over in November, makes for some really beautiful scenery.” 

“Yeah… I know. I’ve been coming here with my family since I was 8.” You didn’t take your focus away from the lake as you spoke. 

“What… happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” Seungcheol quickly read the expression on your face and added, “You totally don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry, that was a dumb question.”

“No, it’s ok actually. I haven’t really talked about it in a while.” You chanced a glance at Seungcheol, his expression serious, focused completely on you. You were taken aback for a brief moment, wondering what was making you trust this man, before you went on, “My parents died almost 6 years ago. We used to come out here as a family every Christmas for the last two weeks of the year. I still make the trip every year to keep their memory, alive? I guess. That sounds kind of stupid saying it out loud.”

“No it doesn’t,” Seungcheol stated simply, “That makes perfect sense. You feel closer to them when you’re here, right?” You slowly nodded, still staring into his deep brown orbs. “Look, at the risk of making myself seem like a peeping Tom, I noticed you used to come here with a man, but I haven’t seen him in a while. Is everything ok with…?” His question trailed off. So he has noticed you before.

“Joshua,” you said, turning your head away, “my brother.” 

Your brother. He didn’t expect that at all. From what little glimpses he saw of the two of you, you always seemed like a bickering couple, and you didn’t look all that similar either, at least from what he can remember. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 

“No it’s fine, you’re very observant, you know. How long have you lived there, exactly?” You asked, turning back to look at the sweet man beside you, gesturing towards his home.

“Almost 8 years. Inherited the place from my grandmother. The first few years I was only here on and off, still living mostly in Daegu. Fully moved in about 5 years ago.” His expression changed, looking like he was reminiscing on the past.

“So you must’ve seen me and Shua coming together before. He hasn’t come up here with me in three years. We don’t - we’re not really on good terms. He lives a couple hours away.” You left it at that, not really wanting to indulge in the reason why you weren’t on good terms. That was a conversation for another day. Your stomach dropped at the thought of talking to Joshua again. You were lost in the feeling for a moment before Seungcheol was speaking.

“I get that. Me and my brother barely speak either. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him to be honest.” He gives you a sad smile, which you return. You’re unsure why you feel like you’ve known Seungcheol longer than an hour, but he makes you feel warm in the middle of the harsh winter. You noticed his cheeks were becoming increasingly red and cursed yourself for being so inconsiderate.

“Do you, uh, do you want to go inside? I can make hot chocolate, or something…” you trail off dumbly. 

“Uh, y-yeah that sounds nice”, he faltered, grabbing the blanket draped over you, folding it neatly before ascending from his chair. You get up quickly to follow after him, moving towards the back door of your cabin. You didn’t realize just how cold you were until you opened the sliding glass door and a wall of heat hit you in the face. 

“Wow, I must have been out there a while. I’m freezing.” You chirped as you slid the door closed after Seungcheol stepped inside the threshold. 

Seungcheol pegged you with a questioning look, and at first you thought he must think you’re insane, before he said, “If you want, you can show me where you keep the hot chocolate and you can go take a hot shower, or something?” he faltered before adding, “I mean, if that’s ok with you, I know you barely know me-”

You cut him off before he could start babbling again, though it was adorable, giving him a soft smile. “That would be really nice actually,” you said, leading him to the kitchen. “I’m not sure what all I have stocked up here, but you should find everything you need in the tea cabinet, above the stove,” you pointed to the stove, “and the mugs are in the cabinet next to the fridge. Feel free to make whatever you’d like. I’ll be down the hall, second door on the right if you need me.” You smiled at him again, causing him to internally melt at the sight, “Thank you, Seungcheol.” The sincerity in your tone hurt him. He could tell by the way you looked at him that you haven’t been thankful for anyone or anything in a while and he didn’t like that. 

“Of course,” he croaked, I’d do anything to make you smile, he wanted to add, but didn’t. He just watched you trudge off to what he presumed was the bathroom. He mentally slapped himself. Why was he acting like an idiot in front of this girl he hardly knew? He knew it was because he has seen your sad eyes staring out at the lake for the past three days now, and years before that. Watched you stand, emotionless, wondering what was going through your mind. He’s perceptive, you told him that earlier, and it was true. Though he never had the guts before tonight to approach you. Now that he has, and now that he’s seen what a smile looks like on your face, he never wants it to disappear again. He’s too empathetic, a trait he inherited from his mother, sometimes to a fault. But he didn’t care right now. Right now, he just wanted to make you happy, even if it was just for tonight. 

You let the hot water fall over your face, reveling in the way the steam was making your muscles feel. Even though your body was relaxing, your mind was starting to real. You think it’s December 21st, just a few days before Christmas, though you aren’t entirely sure. You’d sort of let time slip away from you. You’d arrived at the cabin three days prior, and would remain here for another week and a half. Usually, when you came to the cabin alone, you spent those two weeks wallowing in self pity, drinking yourself to near death. This was the first time you’ve had any interaction at the cabin in three years. Thinking back to three years ago, you recall your lowest moment at the cabin. The reason for the downfall of yours and Joshua’s relationship.

It was Christmas Eve, and you had just finished off a bottle of your favorite wine. The fireplace was going, and some sappy Lifetime movie was playing in the background. Not that you were paying attention in the least. You and Shua had just fought over staying an extra day. You wanted to stay, spend some time together since you didn’t get to see him often since he moved, but he wanted to go back to Seoul to his girlfriend, Yuna. You never really liked her, but that’s beside the point. He was in his room, probably on the phone with her if the soft whispers were anything to go by, while you were on the couch in the living room. You had just poured yourself another glass of wine and were staring out the large bay windows that had a beautiful view of the lake. You used to love that lake when you were a kid. You and Shua would swing on the tire swing attached to the tree that was partially submerged in the lake when your parents would take you up here in the summers. In the winter, you and Shua would walk along the edge of the frozen water, admiring the beauty of it, listening to nature. Joshua always did love all the little animals he would find down there, and the insects that he would find and chase you with. But now, as you looked out at the dark abyss of a lake, it only haunted you with memories of your parents.

You had contemplated it before, but was never brave enough to act. At that moment, though, you really didn’t think there was anything left to live for. Everything had fallen apart. Your parents were gone, your brother hated you, and you isolated yourself from all your friends so long ago, you really didn’t have anyone left. All you could think about, as tears streamed down your face, was how Shua wouldn’t care if you were gone, too. Your parents weren’t there anymore to care. You would be doing him a favor, right? He didn’t want to be around you, so if you weren’t here, he wouldn’t have to worry about your nagging anymore. 

It really wouldn’t be that hard, would it? If Joshua really did leave and head back to Seoul, he wouldn’t even know. He called you, what, maybe twice a year? He wouldn’t be able to stop you, he probably wouldn’t even find out for a while. He could continue living his perfect city life with his perfect city girlfriend for another few weeks, months even, before he realized you were gone.

It’s a thought that would linger in your mind every single winter following the last one you spent with your brother at the lake house. 

Shaking your head, you’re brought back into the present. Were there tears streaming down your face, or was it the water from the shower? The choked up feeling in your throat pointed towards the former. Great. Could Seungcheol hear you? You hoped not. God, you hoped not. He seemed like such a sweet guy, kind and soft. You didn’t want to bring him down in your spiral and potentially scare away the only human interaction you’ve had in a while. He really didn’t need to see how down in the dumps you really were, you didn’t need to ruin this poor guy’s Christmas.

Little did you know, Seungcheol did you hear you. He had finished making hot chocolate a few minutes before he heard soft whimpers coming from the hallway. He immediately made his way towards the noise, realising that once he reached the bathroom door, he could hear you quietly sniffling in the shower. His heart sank at the sound. He didn’t knock, he knew he shouldn't. Knew he should give you privacy. But God, did he want to. Wanted to pull you into his arms, tell you that everything was going to be ok, and see that gorgeous smile again. But it wasn’t his place, and he knew that. So he walked back to the kitchen, solemn expression on his face, and waited patiently for you to calm yourself, wishing that he could be the one to do it for you. 

Seungcheol was unsure why he felt the need to comfort you. He hardly knew you, apart from what he’s seen of you over the years. Still, those glimpses weren’t really telling of what kind of person you were. You seemed kind, warm-hearted. You let him into your home, or your parent’s home, he guessed, when you saw that he was cold. You trusted him enough to dawdle about in your kitchen while you showered. That had to take some real trust, what if he was some psycho stalker? He wasn’t, of course. But you didn’t know that. He could be a serial axe-murderer!

The trust you put in him told him one of two things - you we’re either a very trusting person, or you had no fear, nothing to lose if he was in fact, an axe-murderer. The latter made him feel sick to his stomach. He figured you were going through a lot, but it’s been years since your parents death, you should be feeling somewhat better, right? No, he knew that wasn’t true. The pain of losing someone you love never goes away, he knew that better than anyone, and he didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding their death, or the fallout between you and your brother. Another thing he had intimate knowledge of. Either way, when he looked in your eyes, he saw a sad, broken girl. He’s been that sad, broken person before, and he wanted to help you through it.

Maybe his empathy wasn’t such a bad thing afterall. Maybe he could offer you something, anything, even just companionship, to help get through the holidays. So, he waited at your kitchen island, rewarming your mug of hot chocolate every five or so minutes, until you finally felt ready to come out of the bathroom. 

As you slowly towel dried your hair, you stared at your reddened eyes in the bathroom mirror. You knew Seungcheol was probably waiting in the kitchen for you, with long cold drinks, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of this handsome stranger with your tears. You splashed some cool water on your face and applied some moisturizer from you travel kit to attempt to even out the redness of your face.

After you were satisfied with the puffiness, you threw on your pajama shorts and t-shirt you had brought with you from your room, and left your hair wrapped up in a towel. Who were you trying to impress, really? You barely knew Seungcheol, despite the fact that you felt safe around him. He could be some psycho for all you knew. What you did know is at the end of these two weeks you would go your separate ways and probably not speak again until next Christmas, if you even made it to next Christmas. The thought didn’t make you shudder like it used to, and while it should’ve been concerning, it wasn’t. Not anymore. 

Taking one last look in the mirror, you hesitantly made your way out of the bathroom and down the hallway, where you could hear the clinking of glasses coming from the kitchen. Curious, you sped up a little, until you reached the open floor plan kitchen of your cabin, shooting Seungcheol a questioning look.

“Oh! Sorry - I just saw that you have some dishes in the sink, I just wanted to help. Sorry.” He looked sheepish, and you thought it was rather cute how much he apologized for things. 

“Thanks, but you really don’t have to,” you offered shyly, feeling slightly embarrassed he saw your mess, and sat at one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island, “Did you find the drinks ok?” 

“Oh yeah - they cooled down a bit, so I warmed it up in the microwave.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness, taking the warm mug from him. Seungcheol knew that you had been crying, could see the puffiness in your eyes, but seeing you smile, even slightly, made his boba colored eyes light up. He watched as you rose from your seat, mug in hand, and made your way around the kitchen island. For a second, he thought you were going to approach him, but you walked right past him towards the fridge. You reached your short arms up and grabbed at a bottle sitting on top of the refrigerator, pulling it down and setting it on the counter. He watched on curiously as you opened the, almost empty, bottle of rum and poured some into your mug. You turned around, raising an eyebrow at his questioning look, “want some?” 

“Oh, uh, no thank you. It’s really late”, he advised hesitantly, sneaking a glance at the microwave clock. He didn’t want to upset you, didn’t want to overstep bounds as you were an adult after all, but he was also questioning your current state of mind. He figured staying sober would probably be the smart thing to do.

“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, if any of this makes you feel uncomfortable, you can leave. I’m trying my best to keep my head above water right now, both figuratively and literally.” You don’t know why you just said that to your neighbor, but you did and there was no taking it back. Realizing the weight of your words, you swallow loudly and paused. You removed your gaze from Seungcheol’s, slowly walking towards your living room to have a seat on the plush couch, ignoring the look he was giving your back. You never got around to redecorating the place after your parents death. It was almost like taking a step back into the past when you came up here. 

Seungcheol’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, following behind you, almost forgetting his drink but grabbing it at the last second. “YN, do you want to talk about it? I know we just met, but I want you to know, I’m here for you. Or, I can be. Whatever you need. Someone to listen, make you hot chocolate, whatever you need.” He gave you a sad smile and sat across from you on the loveseat, setting his mug down on the coffee table. 

You took another sip of your spiked hot chocolate, reveling in the burn at the back of your throat, before following Seungcheol’s lead and setting it on the coffee table. “Why are you so nice to me? You barely know me,” you questioned him, pinning him with a serious look. 

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping right now, but I know what it’s like to be depressed,” he looked up from his feet, resting his hands on his knees as he spoke, “I lost my mother when I was 15. I’m not saying by any means that I know what you’re going through, but when I lost my mom I felt like I had no one to talk to. I don’t know you, at least, not really. But if you give me the chance, I would like to try? We are neighbors after all.” His momentary burst of confidence falters as he plays with his fingers and looks down at the carpet. 

Your gaze softened at the absolute sincerity in his tone. Was this real life? You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you didn’t pass out drunk on the deck and dreamt up some hot stranger to ease your muddled mind. You let out a breathy laugh, absent of any humor. You thought for a second, did you really want to unload this baggage on Seungcheol? No, really. It’s better to keep things vague, that way there is no one to hurt when you’re gone. “Seungcheol,” you started, causing his head to snap up to meet your gaze, teeth worrying his bottom lip, “You seem like a really nice guy,” Seungcheol winced, he could sense a ‘but’ coming, preparing himself for rejection. It’s not like he isn’t used to it, being the shy guy in a small town he never really had the chance to talk to many people. “But I can’t promise you that I’ll even be around in a week. I don’t want to get attached to someone, it’ll just be harder in the end.”

That was not what Seungcheol was expecting. His heart dropped down to the floor. He felt his stomach flip. Did you really just imply what he thinks you did? It didn’t matter if he barely knew you, you needed to know that someone cared for you. But he knew he needed to tread lightly here. He slowly got up from his spot on the loveseat and made his way over to you, crouching down so he could meet your downcast eyes. His hands were clasped together, but the moment you lifted your gaze to meet his, he unclasped both hands and held them out to you, wanting you to make the first move, conscious you might still feel uncomfortable with him. Hesitantly, you reached out one hand, which he grasped in both of his much larger ones. His warmth instantly soothing your cold bones.

“YN,” he whispered, barely audible, but you heard him, “I don’t know what your life is like back, wherever you’re from, but you’re here right now. I’m here for you, and I would really, really, like to get to know you better. If you can’t promise me a week, can you at least promise me tomorrow?” He didn’t want to scare you away, dreading what might happen if he does. He saw unshed tears glistening in your doe eyes before continuing, “I’ll come over, every day, and we can spend Christmas together. You don’t have to be alone this year YN.”

The thought of not having to spend Christmas alone was enticing. The last time you spent Christmas with someone and was coherent enough to remember it, was four years ago, when you and Shua came up here. The last time you were up here before that dreaded Christmas Eve three years ago. You wanted, really wanted, to take Seungcheol up on his offer. But you felt like you owed it to him to explain why you were like this. Why you weren’t able to get close to anyone, why you felt like this was a bad idea. You thought, if you tell him what happened, about your demons in your closet, maybe it would scare him away and save him any future pain. With that in mind, you spoke, ““That fucking lake. It’s caused me so much pain, and now it’s like a sick metaphor of my life,” it was barely a whisper that left your lips. Seungcheol could tell whatever you were about to say was heavy. He waited patiently, holding your sad gaze, silently letting you know he was listening. “They died in that lake. It was raining, my dad didn’t see the deer in front of them on the bridge leading into town. They had come up here for a weekend getaway without me and my brother, which they rarely ever fucking did. We found out two days later when they didn’t show up for work.” 

Seungcheol instantly remembered exactly what you were talking about. How could he not have put two and two together? About six years ago, he was commuting back and forth from the cabin to Daegu for work. He was on his way up here for the weekend when the roads were blocked off at the bridge, he saw the overturned car in the embankment of the lake. Everyone in this small town talked about the couple who drowned in the lake for years after the accident. He even heard about how their child had tried to drown themselves in the same lake a few years ago…. Oh. Oh God.

“YN.”

“It’s ok Seungcheol. I don’t want sympathies, I don’t want anymore ‘I’m sorry”’s. You offered to listen, so I’m getting it all out.” You looked down, becoming hyper focused on your hand clasped in Seungcheol’s. “After they died, me and Joshua would come up here for Christmas, attempting to feel more like a family. It never did, we would just fight when we were up here, nonsensical arguments that drove a wedge between us. We kept trying though, until three years ago.” You heaved a heavy sigh. He remembers that, too. He would always see you and that guy, Joshua, arguing on the deck, or you crying out by the tree swing near the lake. You stopped, unsure if you should continue. You chanced a glance at Seungcheol, his dark eyes watching you with - it wasn’t pity - compassion? His gaze made you want to continue, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. “I tried to drown myself three Christmas’ ago. In that damn lake.” You voice was low, rough as you spoke through your teeth.

Seungcheol sucked in a breath, and he hoped beyond hope you didn’t notice. He wasn’t even sure why he was shocked, he connected the dots a few moments ago. He knew it was you. “YN. I - I,” he faltered. 

Not quite meeting his gaze yet, you muttered, “It’s fine Seungcheol. Now that lake is like this stupid fucking metaphor for my life. I ebb and flow, just like the waters in that lake throughout the year. I have my ups and downs. Then, every Christmas, the lake freezes over. It’s always hard for me to get through this time of year, especially without Shua.” You felt a single tear roll down your already puffy cheeks. You sniffled slightly, rubbing your nose on the sleeve of your shirt with your free arm.

Seungcheol stood up from his crouching position slowly, his grip on your hand still tight, your head shot up to look at him, suddenly afraid he was about to bolt. But he hesitantly took a seat next to you, holding your hand in his lap.  He could tell you were trying to scare him away, make him realise you were too broken to be fixed. He was determined to keep you talking, get all your baggage laid out on the table so he could assure you none of it mattered to him. “YN, what happened with Joshua?” He whispered, close to your face. He didn’t want to risk you building that wall back up, even if he didn’t exactly want to hear the answer.

“He found me in the lake. Freezing, nearly dead.” Tears were rolling down your face now as you sniffled, and you felt Seungcheol’s soft fingers rubbing soothing circles on your wrist. You looked up, gaze focused on the wall behind Seungcheol. “Brought me to the hospital, checked me in, and left. I didn’t hear from him for a few months after that. When I finally did he texted me and told me that he didn’t think he could handle my ‘destructive behavior’, and offered to pay for my treatment”, you murmured that last part, voice faltering as you sucked in a shaky breath. “I haven’t seen him since that night.” At this, you finally looked into Seungcheol’s eyes, your own crinkled in pain, tears freely falling down your face, and Seungcheol’s heart broke. No. It shattered into a million tiny pieces. He barely knew you, but he wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel loved, wanted to show you that someone cared about you. You weren’t going to scare him away with your demons, no matter how hard you tried. He had his own, he knew what it was like to want to chase everyone away with them. 

Seungcheol scooted a little closer to you on the couch, releasing your hand in the process, and gathered your shrunken form into his arms and hugged you close. A beat passed before you hugged back, uncertain if you should. But his warmth had you melting into him, your chest heaving with pitiful sobs. The hug was a little awkward, with you both sitting on the couch, so Seungcheol brought his leg up and slotted it behind you, between you and the couch back, moving even closer to you. Seungcheol’s ambiguous nature long gone as he rubbed a large hand up and down your back, pushing his face into your hair, shushing you. You sat there, in his embrace, for what felt like hours, but was realistically probably only 5 minutes. When your sobs started to slow down, Seungcheol pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped firmly around you, looking you in the eye, “YN-” he started, but you cut him off before he could finish. 

With a small sniffle and watery eyes, you whispered, “I’m broken Seungcheol. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t want to be here. I only cause others pain.”

He seemed confused by your statement at first. His dark eyes searching your own for a second before he whispered, “I see you here, year after year. I can tell YN, I can see it. You’re broken by what happened, but you are not a broken person. You’re so beautiful honey, and from what I’ve seen of you tonight, you’re kind and worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of life, and worthy of happiness.” Your eyes started to well up with tears again and Seungcheol gave you a sad smile, thumb reaching up and caressing your cheek to wipe them away. “I didn’t come up to your deck tonight because I thought you locked yourself out of your house.” He admitted with a slightly sheepish look. “I came over because I’ve seen the torment in your eyes, and I’ve been there before. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. I wanted to be here for you, regardless of how well I know you. Maybe I can get to know you in the process, b-but I want you to be ok, YN.” He softly whispered the last part softly, dark eyes starting to well with his own unshed tears.

“You barely know me Seungcheol. Your words are sweet, but I’m not worthy. I’ve been drowning myself in liquor, killing myself with these cigarettes, and pushing everyone in my life away for the last seven years. I’m a shit human.” You look down, hand reaching up to gently grasp Seungcheol’s wrist, slowly pulling his hand from your face. The hurt in his eyes was hard to miss. 

“I barely know you, but yet I want to know more. Doesn’t that say something? You think you’re not worthy, but I’m right here, telling you I think you’re interesting, lovable, and funny, if you give me the chance. I want to get to know you.” He pulled his hand, ever so gently, away from your grasp, placing it on your shoulder to pull you against his chest again. “You matter YN.”

You let out another quiet sob into Seungcheol’s flannel shirt, inhaling his soft citrus-y scent that has been a calming presence to you all night. “Promise me tomorrow, YN. Promise me you’ll stay tomorrow, talk to me, get to know me a little more,” he mumbled into your hair, “all I’m asking for is tomorrow.”

You thought to yourself for a moment. You could do that. You could promise one more day. Even if you had to suffer through it, at least Seungcheol would be there with you. Inhaling a shaky breath, you gasped out an, “ok.”

Seungcheol smiled to himself, a sad, small smile. He was happy you were going to give yourself a chance, even if it was under the guise of giving him a chance. He was determined to make you see life was worth living.

You woke up with a splitting headache. Was it from the copious amounts of alcohol you consumed yesterday, or from all the crying you did? You didn’t know. All you knew was the sunlight streaming in from your bedroom window was going to be the death of you if you had to endure it any longer. You let out a weak groan as you rolled over, pulling the soft duvet cover over your head. You didn’t want to get out of bed, but you knew you needed to get some water, or your headache was only going to get worse.

Throwing the covers off yourself, you slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You grabbed your phone from your bedside table, noting that it was December 22. Meaning you were right in your assumption last night. Three more days until Christmas. As you looked at your phone, you noticed your arms were covered by a thick, wool like fabric. This wasn’t your pajama shirt, what were you wearing? You stood up and walked over to the floor length mirror on the back of your bedroom door, still littered with stickers from that time you and your friend Jeongyeon visited the cabin when you were 14. 

As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the events of last night came rushing back to you. Seungcheol. You were wearing his coat that he so kindly brought over to you last night while you were out on your deck. Seungcheol sat with you while you cried into his shirt for an hour after you had spilled your life story to him, letting all your monsters out to play. You could see the remnants of your sobbing on your face, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. After you calmed down a bit, Seungcheol wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to your bed, shaky and cold. He laid you down gently, pulling the covers over your sleepy form and whispered, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’re going to get to know each other better. You promised.” before he left. Too tired to speak, you rolled over and fell asleep. 

Your face heated with embarrassment. A man you hardly knew took care of you last night, carried you to your bed. This wasn’t like you. He hugged you last night! You haven’t had any human contact in nearly three years. The last person you hugged was your therapist at the rehab facility, and even that was awkward and a little forced. You hadn’t even hugged your own biological brother in over four years. At the thought of Seungcheol hugging you, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, remembering how you melted into his warm chest last night. You didn’t realize just how touch starved you’d become in the last few years, but the evidence was right there. Shaking off your humiliation, you shrugged off Seungcheol’s jacket and rummaged through your suitcase for some clothes. Surely, you’d feel better after a shower and some breakfast. Right?

After rinsing the previous night from your skin, you dressed in some sweats and a t-shirt, not really bothering to do your hair. You didn’t plan on leaving the cabin today, at most you would sit out on the deck again. Heading back into your room, you hear a soft knock coming from your living room. At first you thought you were hearing things, until another knock, slightly louder, sounded through the cabin. 

As you made your way down the hallway and into the living room, you saw a smiling Seungcheol through the sliding glass door standing on your back deck. His arms were full, with… Bags? You rushed forward past the couches and unlocked and slid the door open.

“Good morning - er, I guess afternoon now?” Seungcheol stuttered a little awkwardly, albeit friendly. He stumbled through your back door and made his way over to the kitchen island. You watched wordlessly as he set down a couple of bags and a blanket on the marble countertop. You tilted your head at him as he turned around to face you. “I, um, I thought we could spend the day together if - if that’s ok with you?” he lilted his words at the end. 

You remember the promise you made to Seungcheol last night as you stared at him, mouth agape. One more day. You promised him today. You were slightly surprised that Seungcheol made good on it, half expecting him to bolt last night and never speak to you again after everything you unloaded on him, yet here he was, bright eyed and bushy tailed at…. Two in the afternoon, damn you really did knock out.

“What’s in the bags?” You questioned as you moved towards the kitchen, blinking dumbly at Seungcheol and pointing at the reusable grocery bags he brought with him. 

“Well… I noticed last night that you didn’t have much food in your fridge, mostly just liquor and soda,” your cheeks heated as he called you on your bad habits, “so I brought over some groceries. I thought we could make lunch and since it’s a little too cold outside, we could set up a picnic in your living room.” he offered, gesturing to the blanket sitting on your countertop. “If that’s ok with you, of course.” He sounded a little abashed, having not gotten your number last night, he wasn’t able to see if you were ok with all of this beforehand. He was taking a leap of faith here, hoping that you would take him up on his offer. It was the only thing he could think of that didn’t involve going outside in the snow.

You smiled shyly at him, “That actually sounds really nice, Seungcheol, thank you.” Not having a drop of alcohol in your system was making your normal, shy self emerge from the mask of indifference you usually wear, shrouded behind a layer of soju. 

Seungcheol offered you a bright smile, showing off his perfect teeth. His smile was warm, inviting, much like his scent. You were slowly realizing that you quite enjoyed his company. Maybe a little more than you should have.

You and Seungcheol had spent the afternoon cooking and chatting in your kitchen, making a kimchi stew from a recipe Seungcheol had in one of his grandmother’s old cookbooks. You discovered that he was a natural in the kitchen, moving through the recipes with ease. He told you stories about how he used to come out here to visit his grandma and she would always cook with him in the very cabin he lived in now. He told you about how he inherited it from her 8 years ago when she passed away, and how he quit his office job in Daegu to move out here and become a freelance writer for an online journal. You admired his bravery, being able to leave his life behind and take a risk moving out here. Part of you wished you were able to take that jump, you truly loved this cabin, and most of the memories that came with it. But alas, you were tied to your stupid corporate job in your stupid coastal city. It’s part of the reason you were always so jealous of Joshua, being able to make that move without you.

Now, you and Seungcheol were sitting on his soft blanket, in front of your fireplace, eating the stew the two of you made together. “So where are you from, YN?” Seungcheol asked as he finished off his bowl, setting it down on the hardwood floor. 

“Busan,” you stated simply. “I still live there. I usually only make the trip out here for Christmas now. Though I used to come up during the summers, too, but haven’t in a while.”

“And what do you do, in Busan?” he asked, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows, full focus on you.

“I work at an animal shelter. Nothing fancy. I actually work in the office, but I get to hang out with the cats and dogs, too. I tend to prefer the company of animals, rather than humans,” you offered somewhat abashedly. You were telling the truth. You had always wanted to become a veterinarian, ever since you could talk, really. But you just didn’t have the time, or the money to go to school, so you found the next best option.

“I definitely get that,” Seungcheol agreed, “I have a cat at home. It gets lonely up here sometimes, and he helps keep me sane.” He smiled thinking about the furball he adopted a couple years ago, probably resting peacefully in his favorite sunbathing spot in his living room.

Your eyes lit up at the mention of a cat and Seungcheol filed that away for later. “Really? What’s his name?”

Seungcheol was more than happy to indulge in your sudden curiosity, happy he found something you’re actually interested in. “Bear. He’s a Maine coon. I found him at the local shelter in town a couple years back. He’s the sweetest thing.”

Your conversation continued throughout the afternoon much the same. You told Seungcheol about your dreams to become a vet that would probably never come to fruition, and in turn he told you about his previous job in Daegu as a marketing analyst. You shared with each other your big (and small) dreams and aspirations, discussed TV shows you both liked, and talked about different recipes you enjoy. You discovered that Seungcheol used to be a horrible cook, but ever since moving to the cabin and having to cook for himself, he turned out to be a decent home chef.

You were actually enjoying spending time with Seungcheol, something you really didn’t expect to happen when you were on the drive up here a few days ago. You haven’t really had a friend to talk to for a long time, your only close friend Jeongyeon having moved to the United States six years ago, you never really made the effort to make any new ones. Seungcheol was nice, you thought to yourself as he talked more about his cat, you wouldn’t mind being friends with him. 

By dinner time you were both starting to get hungry again, so you suggested ordering take out while you both cleaned up the mess in the kitchen from earlier.  You called the chicken place you knew of in town, while Seungcheol started loading the dishwasher. “Hey YN?” you heard from the kitchen.

“Yes?” You half shouted back, walking down the hallway towards Seungcheol. 

“Where are your dish- oh nevermind, found them!” He shouted back as you walked into the kitchen. He stood up straight after shutting the dishwasher, sighing and wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. “Dishes are done, food is ordered. What do you say we watch some Christmas movies?” You smiled at the look on Seungcheol’s face, he seemed so excited to be doing something as domestic as cleaning and relaxing, it made your heart soften just a bit.

For the rest of the night, you and Seungcheol sat in front of the TV, watching sappy Lifetime movies, eating chicken and drinking beer. It was probably the most fun you’ve had in quite a few years, and you were really thankful for his company. At the end of the night, you and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers with a promise that you would give Seungcheol one more day, at least, to get to know you better. You agreed, and Seungcheol left with one final bright smile and wave of his hand. 

You sighed, rubbing your hand down the front of your face. Having Seungcheol here was a great distraction, but now that he’s gone and you can hear the faint sound of Christmas music playing on the credits of some crappy movie, reality was starting to sink in. After these two weeks were over, you’d return to Busan, Seungcheol-less, and have to resume your normal life again. A life you weren’t satisfied with. A life you knew you didn’t want to continue living. Being here made you feel like that life didn’t exist anymore, like you were almost, happy? But you knew that it would all be over soon and everything would hurt again. You didn’t want to let yourself get wrapped up in Seungcheol because only bad things could come of it, but he was making it really, really hard. You could see yourself falling for Seungcheol, allowing him to make you happy, being with him, domestic and blissful, in another life. But not this one, not the current life the universe had dealt you. You had way too much baggage, you would never be the happy go-lucky girl you were in your teens again. You would always live with this depression, with these demons. Despite years of therapy and a stint in rehab, there was nothing that was going to fix you.

As you changed into your pajamas, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes were sunken in, your skin was pale, and your hair had seen better days. You knew you hadn’t been taking great care of yourself, but you didn’t think it had gotten this bad. What did Seungcheol see in you anyways? Your life was a wreck and you looked like it, too. You sighed to yourself, running a brush through your hair. You promised Seungcheol one more day, so you were going to make it through tomorrow, at least.

December 23rd. Two more days until Christmas. 

You woke up feeling a little lighter this morning after having spent yesterday with Seungcheol, but you also had a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never really been one to believe in superstitions, but for some reason, you had a strong feeling something bad was going to happen soon. You tried to shake off the feeling. You had woken up early this morning, just before sunrise and decided to take a steaming hot shower.

After your shower, you got dressed in comfy clothes and decided to sit out on the deck and smoke for a bit. It was still early in the morning, the sun still on the horizon. It really was beautiful out here. You had the perfect view of the lake from your deck. It faced towards the east, giving you a gorgeous view of the sunrise just above the frozen lake. The colors of the sky were so pretty this time of day, oranges mixing with pretty pinks, you nearly felt like you were on set for a romance drama. 

There was a low fog rolling onto the embankment from the lake. It almost looked like dry ice, white billows of smoke swirling in the slight morning breeze. Admiring the landscape, you took a cigarette out of your pack, and slid your lighter out of your pocket. The sun was just barely starting to pass over the mountains in the east. You shivered a little as you lit up your cigarette, taking a deep inhale of smoke. You instantly felt at ease, the weird feeling from earlier dissipating with the sharp exhale of smoke. 

Seungcheol hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and was typing on his laptop, Bear in his lap, on his sofa. He spent a majority of the day over at your cabin yesterday and spent all night trying to get caught up with work. As a freelance writer, he made his own hours, but he wanted to make sure he was going to meet his next deadline, coming up in a few weeks. 

He gently closed his laptop and stretched his arms up into the air, cracking a few joints in the process. The noise startled Bear and he shot up out of Seungcheol’s lap, across the kitchen floor. “Sorry, buddy,” Seungcheol mumbled, sleep thick in his voice. He watched as Bear slid across the linoleum and jumped up onto the window sill above the sink. Seungcheol looked out of the window curiously, eyes catching on a figure. He stood up from his spot on the sofa slowly, making his way towards the window, mindful of Bear this time.

From his kitchen window, Seungcheol had a perfect view of you standing on your deck smoking a cigarette. He watched as you took a deep inhale every couple of minutes and exhaled white swirls of smoke through your nose. The sun was just beginning to rise and the light was catching beautifully on the planes of your face. Seungcheol took a moment to admire you, since he hasn’t really had the chance before. You were always intently watching him, waiting for his next move, almost like you were afraid he would leave, never quite giving in to his friendship.

The light shone over your features beautifully, highlighting your sharp cheekbones and sunken in eyes. Seungcheol noticed you looked a little thin, he wasn’t sure if that had to do with heredity or your mental state, but he tried not to dwell on it. Long eyelashes flutter over your cheeks everytime you close your eyes, basking in the sunlight. Your fingers, long and slender, held the cigarette so delicately. You seemed so fragile, so ethereal, he wonders why the world had to be so cruel to you. What did you do to deserve the foul things that have happened to you? Nothing, you didn’t do anything, he reminded himself. You were just delt a bad hand at life. 

He watched as your long hair fluttered around your face in the breeze. It looks like you just washed it, he thought, you must be cold in the crisp morning air. With one last exhale of smoke, you put your cigarette out on the railing of your deck. Seungcheol smirked to himself when he saw the small pout form on your lips. How could someone be so beautiful, yet so broken? Seungcheol wasn’t sure why he felt this strong urge to protect you, to prevent any further harm from coming to you, but he knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you felt cared for. He was drawn to you, in a way he has never been drawn to another person. It both scared and excited him and sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach and ribcage. He took one last glance at you through the window and decided it would be best if he got some rest before trekking back over to your cabin later. 

As Seungcheol fell asleep, all thoughts were on his pretty neighbor and the haunting look in your eyes as you stared out at the lake.

The rest of your morning went by relatively smoothly, having made breakfast after coming inside from your morning smoke. You cooked yourself some eggs and toast and then decided to check some emails on your laptop you brought with you. You saw a couple of emails from your boss, asking about adoption paperwork that he couldn’t find on your desk. You emailed him back quickly with the forms you had stored in your files, before powering off your computer, done with work for now. You moved the laptop from the top of your thighs to the nightstand next to your bed and leaned back against the headboard. You folded your arms behind your head and glanced around the room, taking in your childhood surroundings. 

The walls of your bedroom were still a pastel pink color with sponged on white clouds reaching up to the ceiling. You had a vivid memory of helping your mom paint the clouds when you were 8 years old. She would laugh at you everytime you would pout because the cloud didn’t come out exactly how you wanted it to. You smiled at the memory of your sweet mother’s laugh.

Across from your full size bed, was a white dresser with claw feet that still contained some old summer clothes from when you would visit during your breaks from high school, probably a few sizes too small now. Along the side of the dresser and the white full length mirror on the back of your door, were stickers from your favorite boy groups when you were a teenager. You and Jeongyeon had collected them throughout the school year and would stick them on when you arrived for the summer. You smiled at the memories this room brought back. This was the reason you kept returning here every year, you tell yourself. To remember the times when you were happy and loved life. 

You let out a deep sigh and sunk back onto your mattress further, eyes feeling droopy. When your head hit the soft pillow, you stared up at the ceiling, still white because your mom said painting the ceiling pink would have made the room feel claustrophobic. There were still little pieces of sticky tape stuck to it from when you had plastered glow in the dark stars and planets all over the ceiling, long since gone now, though the remnants remained. You were always fascinated by space. You remember when you begged your mom to get those planets for the cabin after putting them up in your childhood bedroom back home in Busan.

You never updated anything in the house, really, bought new furniture, or moved anything around. It would feel wrong, you thought. It wouldn’t feel like home anymore if you made changes. 

You hadn’t even entered the master bedroom, where your parents slept, since they passed. You know that Joshua has, having gone through some of their belongings in the years since their death, but you never could bring yourself to do it. Shua had also gone through his childhood things in his room, just across the hall from you, taking what he cared for back to Seoul with him. You wondered what was left in there, too tired to actually get up and check. As you reminisced on your cabin, your childhood, sleep began to take over, and eventually you fell asleep to the slow hum of the heater for a much needed nap.

-

You sat up straight in bed, clutching your shirt, breathing heavy. What was that noise? Ding ding. You let out a breath of relief. It’s just the doorbell. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, briefly glancing at the clock on your side table. 4:03 pm. Damn. How long did you sleep?

As you got up to answer the door you caught your reflection in the mirror, straightening your bed head out a little. As you made your way to the front of the house, you heard soft knocking on the door. “Coming, coming!” you yelled out to whoever was on the other side. When you arrived at the front door, you looked out the glass pane next the door, finding Seungcheol standing there on your front porch. He was holding a - duffle bag? You squint your eyes in confusion, but open the door anyways. 

“Hi, YN!” Seungcheol starts, before taking in your appearance. You were wearing what looked to be pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” He looked a little sheepish, despite the late hour, running his hair through his blonde locks.

“A-ah, yeah, but it’s ok! I really shouldn’t have slept this long anyway,” you trailed off, opening the door a little wider and motioning for Seungcheol to come in. “What’s that?” You asked, pointing at the black bag clutched in his hand.

“Oh, well…” he starts, coming all the way through the entryway and toeing his shoes off next to yours, he assumed. “Since the forecast says it’s supposed to snow, I brought some board games and some movies,” he seemed a little unsure, wary that you were going to tell him you didn’t want to hang out, or something. You smiled at him to ease his worries.

“I love board games,” you began, walking off towards your kitchen, Seungcheol trailing behind you. “I haven’t really played any in years though,” you falter, “I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

Seungcheol gave you the gentlest smile you think you’ve ever seen from a man, making you melt a little more. What was this guy doing to you?

“Don’t worry, I’m not the competitive type anyways.” He gave you a little wink, making you think that was an absolute lie. Seungcheol’s eyes shot up to yours, a bright smile spreading across his handsome face. The tinkling sound of your laugh made his insides heat up. He absolutely adored the sound. 

The two of you ended up ordering take out again, Seungcheol insisting on paying this time, and sat on your couches with games and snacks spread out on the coffee table. You guys had already played a couple rounds of Scrabble, and one round of Scattergories and now you were leaning back enjoying the pizza Seungcheol had ordered. Just like Seungcheol had predicted, it started snowing around 6 o’clock and has been for the last hour or so. 

“You’re telling me you lived your whole life never having a pet?!” You laughed, hand covering your mouth still full of pizza.

“Nope. My parents never let me have a pet growing up and when I was old enough to move out I was just too busy to take care of one. A few years ago when I was feeling lonely, I decided to give it a go.”

You couldn’t imagine a life without pets. Growing up your family always had dogs or cats around, one time even adopting a pet hamster. You haven’t had pets in a few years, but you’re around them all the time due to work. 

“I love Bear, though. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it now.” He smiled fondly, talking about his beloved cat. “What about you, any pets back home?”

“Ah, no. I don’t have the time anymore. But it’s ok because I spend most of my time with them at work.” As much as you hated the people you worked with, you absolutely adored the animals. You didn’t think you could ever work in a profession that didn’t allow you to work with animals, it just wouldn’t make sense to you. 

Seungcheol smiled at you, damn that smile was making you seriously weak. “I’d love to introduce you to Bear while you’re here, if you’d like.” 

You grinned brightly at the man seated across from you, “I would love that.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? It’ll be Christmas Eve, I can cook something for us, and you can hangout with Bear. I’m sure he’d love the company, I’m usually pretty boring.” He laughed. 

“I -” you hesitated. Why were you hesitating? You really liked Seungcheol. You liked him so much that you even forgot about your promise to him about ‘one more day’. You were enjoying the time you spent with him so much that thoughts about your parents, Joshua, and your demons were at the back of your mind when you were with him. You mean, you’ve literally only smoked two cigarettes today, that has to be some sort of record for you. So why were you hesitating? 

You knew why, you didn’t want Seungcheol to get too attached. It’s been at the forefront of your mind since you met the guy. Who were you kidding, you didn’t want to get too attached. You’d be leaving soon and it would only hurt you more in the long run. Seungcheol was staring at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Seungcheol.”

The crestfallen look on Seungcheol’s face made you want to immediately take back your words, but he beat you to it. “Can I ask you why you think that?” He was much bolder than when you met a couple of days ago, you noted. 

You wrung your hands together in your lap, having finished your slice of pizza a few minutes ago, the greasy remnants only slightly bothersome. “I just don’t want to make this harder than it’s already going to be,” you trailed off quietly, eyes fixated on a loose thread on the rug beneath the coffee table, “I have to go back home in a week, and like I told you a couple of days ago, I’m not sure if I even want to live that life anymore.” You whispered the last part, biting on the inside of your cheek. 

Seungcheol’s eyes softened. He realized it wasn’t about him, but about you and how you didn’t want to hurt him, once again. He knew you were too kind for your own good, but he really needed you to realize that. “YN. It’s just dinner. And who says we can’t still be friends when you do go back home?” he added extra emphasis to the word do, making sure to not use an ‘if’ in that sentence. He’s going to make sure you make it back home in one piece if it’s the last thing he does. 

You knew what Seungcheol was trying to do, and you really did appreciate it. You also really enjoyed his company, so you thought, why not, fuck it. “Ok.” you whispered out softly, finally meeting Seungcheol’s eyes. 

“Ok? Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you. On one condition,” you acquiesced, a soft smirk on your face.

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his blonde fringe. “Anything,” he breathed out, a little too quickly for his liking.

“I get to cuddle with your cat all night. I really miss the animals.” A melancholic look took over your features as you remember the shelter animals.

Seungcheol tried, and failed, to hide a huge grin. “Deal.”

-

Last night, after you agreed to have dinner with Seungcheol, you played a few more board games, kicking his ass in Monopoly a couple of times, before you said your goodbyes. Seungcheol left the board games at your house, reasoning that he would definitely be back over to avenge himself in Monopoly. You giggled at him as you waved goodbye with the promise of dinner the next night.

It was now 1 o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, and you were starting to panic. Christmas Eve was a hard day for you to get through normally, considering the memories you have of this day. Not only that, but you still couldn’t shake that odd feeling that you had when you woke up yesterday. However, today is even more panic-inducing because you are about to have dinner with your cute neighbor, who you may or may not have a slight (read: huge) crush on. Something you realized late last night as you lay awake in your bed.

You spent a majority of your morning sulking around your cabin, taking more than a few smoke breaks on the deck, and cleaning the kitchen and living room up in your anxiety driven state. Even though you were eating at your neighbor’s house tonight, your own was looking spotless with all your stress cleaning. Now, with nothing left to tidy up, you decide to start getting ready for dinner. 

After taking a long, hot shower, you dried and styled your hair, put just enough makeup on to cover your dark bags and sallow skin, and ventured to your room to rummage through your suitcase in order to find something appropriate to wear. You didn’t bring much with you on this trip besides sweatpants and pajamas. It’s not like you would’ve gone anywhere other than the corner store for more cigarettes had you not met Seungcheol. 

You eventually decide on a dark pair of jeans that you luckily decided to throw in your suitcase last minute, and an old band t-shirt. You honestly didn’t have much else, and you were hoping Seungcheol understood (he did) you didn’t really plan on seeing anyone these couple of weeks. 

A little after four in the afternoon, your anxiety started to build up even more. You were anxiously awaiting Seungcheol’s text to head over to his place, and decided that it was a great time for a smoke. You grabbed Seungcheol’s coat that was draped over your vanity chair, your pack of cigarettes, and your lighter, and headed out towards the deck. You had been so wrapped up in making yourself look presentable, that you had mostly forgotten what day it was, and the dread you usually felt about it. It was nice in a way, but now, sitting out here on your deck, staring out at that damned lake, you couldn’t help but remember why it was you started smoking these stupid cigarettes in the first place. 

“YN?” you heard someone call, distant, yet still close? You were confused, you couldn’t open your eyes. Why couldn’t you open your eyes? “YN, can you hear me?” Joshua? Joshua! You thought to yourself. Why couldn’t he hear you!?

For a moment, your eyes fluttered open. You saw Joshua, hovering above you. But there was someone else next to him. They were wearing a uniform. A cop? No. They were wearing latex gloves and holding what looked like an IV bag.  “YN!” You heard Joshua yell again, he sounded scared. You desperately wanted to answer him, but your voice wouldn’t come through. You blinked a few times, before everything faded to black again. That was the last memory you had of your brother. 

Your cell phone dinged in your pocket, startling you back into the present. You looked at the cigarette in your hand, nearly burned to the butt and you haven’t taken a single drag. Quickly, you brought it up to your lips and inhaled before pulling your phone out of Seungcheol’s coat. 

From Seungcheol [4:33 pm]: dinner will be ready in 20, want to head over?

You glanced over to Seungcheol’s house, briefly looking through the only window that didn’t have the curtains drawn. You didn’t see any movement. Had he seen you out here smoking again? You looked back at your phone, taking another drag from the cigarette, before typing out your reply. 

From You [4:35 pm]: ya, be right over

You pocketed your phone and put your cigarette out, tossing the butt into the trash can on your way back inside. You locked the sliding glass door before heading to your room to spray some perfume. You didn’t want to go over to Seungcheol’s smelling like smoke, knowing he probably didn’t like the smell regardless of what he said. Before you left, you grabbed your keys, double checked the doors were locked, and walked the short distance between the two houses. 

Before you knocked, you took in the state of Seungcheol’s home. It was quaint, smaller than your parent’s cabin, but only slightly, painted white with forest green window sills and roof tiles. You noticed there were planter boxes under his front windows, but no plants to be found in the frigid winter. Hung on his front door was a cute Christmas wreath, plain with pretty burgundy poinsettias on it. You smiled to yourself, happy to see some form of Christmas decorations, not having put any of your own out. You’ve really forgotten how much you used to love Christmas. You loved the decorations, the food, the movies, but you’ve really forgotten what it was like to feel that holiday cheer. Having Seungcheol in your life, even for these few days, has really helped you see what you’ve been missing out on.

Before you could even lift your hand to knock on the dark green door, it was opening to reveal a giddy looking Seungcheol. You took a moment to drink him in, in all his glory. He was wearing some dark jeans, much like you, and a tucked in plain black t-shirt, his muscular biceps on display. You idly wondered if he didn’t dress up on purpose to spare you the embarrassment of not having nice clothes, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it came. His blonde hair, usually a disheveled mess, was combed out and surprisingly shiny, despite what looked like excessive bleaching to reach his desired tone. The moment he saw that you were wearing his coat, a huge bright grin took over his face, causing his doe-like eyes to scrunch in happiness. The look on his face made butterflies erupt in your stomach, as you mirrored his grin.

“Hi,” he said shyly, still smiling.

“Hi yourself,” you breathed, “thank you for having me over.”

He waved away your thanks, moving aside and gesturing for you to come in. “Don’t mention it, really. The pleasure is all mine.” You don’t know the weight those words hold, but he means it, you can tell. 

As you walked through the entryway of his home, you pulled off your shoes, setting them on the neatly organized shoe rack next to his front door. Moving through to his living room, you noticed how well organized his entire house was. There was a pristine looking cover over his sofa which also housed a couple of blankets and throw pillows. On his coffee table were a few books and what looked like photo albums. As you took in your surroundings, Seungcheol watched you curiously, one eyebrow cocked. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you weren’t expecting him to be so… clean? Organized? Your guy friends growing up were never this neat.

“I like to keep things organized, sometimes it can be a bad habit of mine,” he trailed off, reading your mind, looking around his neat space, “dinner is almost done. Do you want something to drink?”

“Yes, please.” You sighed in relief. You were pacified at the thought of having a glass of something to help lessen your nerves. You only knew Seungcheol for the past three days, but for some reason, this almost felt like a first date, despite him never labeling it as such. God, when was the last time you went on a date? It had to have been at least 5 years ago. The thought alone made your anxiety flare up tenfold. It’s not a date. It’s just neighbors having dinner on Christmas Eve because they’re both lonely. Right? 

“I have both white and red wine, soda and different types of tea…” you were still standing awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you looking almost like you were afraid to move further into his house. Seungcheol walked up to you, gently taking your hand in his, causing your eyes to snap up, meeting his own. “Hey, it’s ok,” he smiled gently at you, “come on, I’ll get us some drinks.” 

He led you into his kitchen which had his dining room attached, a small four person wooden table sitting near a bay window. It was cozy, you thought, somewhere you would like to retire to. Now, that wasn’t a thought you’d had in a long time. You never pondered about growing old anymore, surprise you even made it this far into your life. The thought made you pause for a moment, licking your lips and shaking your head slightly.

Seungcheol let go of your hand to reach into a cabinet by his sink. “Wine ok?” he asked, sensing the tension in your body. 

“Y-yes. Red, please.” You weren’t sure why you were being so shy and awkward, you’ve spent the last couple of days getting to know Seungcheol, pretty well you might add. You’ve talked about all kinds of topics, including incredibly deep ones. You think it’s partly to do with what day it is, as Christmas Eve always puts you a little more on edge, and a little more flighty. Seungcheol quietly pours two glasses of red wine, passing one to you politely. You murmur a thank you before taking a sip.

Seungcheol watches you as you sip your wine, looking around his kitchen curiously. He could sense your anxiety, it was rolling off of you in waves. He didn’t want this to be awkward, he wanted to make sure you had a good night, and wanted to take your mind off of things for a while. He figured Christmas Eve was difficult for you, and if your nerves were anything to go by, he was correct in his assumption. “Want to meet Bear?” he asked, hopeful it would help shift your mood a little. 

Your eyes lit up at the mention of the cat, and were quickly nodding your head. Seungcheol walked away down the hallway, returning moments later with a fluffy dark brown cat in his arms. “He’s a little shy, but if you give him some time, he’ll warm up to you,” Seungcheol smiled at you, his cheeks puffing up cutely, leading you over to his couch, sitting down with Bear in his lap. Slowly, you sat down too, not wanting to scare the creature, and sat your wine glass on a wooden coaster on the coffee table. 

Immediately upon sitting, Bear hopped off Seungcheol’s lap and right into yours. You let out a small, shocked gasp as the cat started kneading into your thighs, making himself comfortable. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as they met you. “H-he never does that. It usually takes him a while to warm up to people. In fact, the first time my friend Mingyu came over, he nearly lost an eye to him.” He chuckled lowly at the memory. 

“Animals usually like me,” you said softly, bringing your hand up to run through Bear’s fur. It was long, and extremely fluffy, “I think they know how much I adore them.” Seungcheol watched on as you smiled down at his now purring cat in your lap. For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to adopt another cat with you, or maybe even a dog, before lightly shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts and rising from the couch. 

“I’m gonna check on dinner, it should be done soon. You’ll probably be… occupied, until then.” Seungcheol gave you a soft smile, which you returned, before walking off into the kitchen. You leaned back into the soft fabric of the couch, absentmindedly running your hand over Bear. 

You could hear the clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen as you loved on Bear. Whatever Seungcheol was cooking smelled absolutely delicious and was making your mouth water. You had only eaten breakfast today, and were on the verge of starving at this point. On top of that, you haven’t had a Christmas meal in ages. You were actually starting to get excited about having dinner with Seungcheol, and you had this purring love bug in your lap, and your glass of wine, to thank. Maybe accepting his invite hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

“It’s ready!” Seungcheol called from the kitchen, scaring the sleeping cat, causing him to jump up and run off towards the kitchen. “Oh you scaredy cat,” Seungcheol grumbled as Bear slid past him on the floor. You chuckled as you got up from the couch and headed towards the dining table. Upon seeing what Seungcheol had laid out on the table, your eyes widened and you let out a breathy gasp. 

“You made all of this?!” You questioned incredulously. 

“U-uh, yeah? I told you, I used to cook with my grandma. We always made Christmas dinners together,” he ran his hand through his, now messy, locks, “I still try and cook as much as I can, I actually enjoy it. My friend Mingyu has given me lot’s of pointers, too.” He looked away, blush rising to his cheeks.

You looked at all the different assortments of food Seungcheol had prepared. There was a large skillet that contained beef bulgogi, and smaller dishes that housed kimchi, steamed eggs, japchae, and steamed rice. There were also two bowls of some kind of stew that made your mouth water, “It looks amazing, Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, a genuine smile on your face. 

“Well let’s not stare at it all night. Let’s eat!”

You and Seungcheol ate your meal, laughing at each other’s odd Christmas stories from your childhoods. You learned more about his life in Daegu and you told him stories of Jeongyeon and the trouble the two of you got up to in middle school. 

You both had another glass of wine with dinner, feeling looser as the night went on. Bear sat close to his owner, tail flicking idly, waiting for scraps of food to be accidentally flung from chopsticks during conversation. According to Seungcheol, the cat loved eggs, a trait he found both odd and endearing. You were so enthralled in conversation with Seungcheol, you barely registered that the food was nearly gone, two glasses of wine downed, and it was nearing midnight already. Sparing a glance at the oven clock, you realized just how late it was getting.  “Do you mind…” you started, before hesitating, unsure if you wanted to ask. 

“What is it, YN?” Seungcheol encouraged you. He was so kind, always observant, sensing when you needed a little push.

“Would you mind if I went out back to smoke?” You looked away, rubbing your hand up and down your arm, embarrassed that you were about to bring your conversation to and end just because you needed to smoke. Nasty habit, you knew you should quit, but it was hard.

“Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was getting so late,” he started, looking at the clock, getting up from his seat and grabbing dishes, “want me to join you? I can deal with this mess later.”

You grabbed your own plate, following him to the sink and setting it down gently. You hesitated for only a moment before you whispered, “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” You smile at Seungcheol, happy for the company for once.

Seungcheol didn’t have a deck like you, but he had a nice yard with a cute picket fence lining one side. Right off his dining room was a sliding glass door that led to a small concrete patio that was furnished with a couple patio chairs and a fire pit. His land went straight back, down to the lake, just like yours. The only thing separating your properties was a line of shrubs and trees. Seungcheol was busying himself with the fire pit as you sat in one of the chairs. You opened your pack of cigarettes, noticing you only had one left, mentally noting you’d have to run down to the store to grab more tomorrow morning. 

As you lit your cigarette, Seungcheol was lighting a small fire with the wood he kept by the backdoor. You idly wondered if he chopped it himself. With how muscular he was it wouldn’t surprise you. It was a small fire he lit, but it was enough to keep you warm in the freezing weather. Instead of sitting down in the chair across from you, like you expected him to, Seungcheol stood in front of you and held his hand out. For a moment, you were confused, until you realized he wanted you to take his outstretched hand. You complied, placing your free hand in his, turning your head to blow out your previous inhale of smoke. 

Seungcheol gave you a gentle tug, indicating he wanted you to stand up. As you stood, Seungcheol maneuvered himself behind you, so you were standing directly in front of the fire, as he shakily wrapped his arms around your middle. The feeling of his large hands on your waist was doing things to you in your alcohol hazed state. 

“Is this ok?” he asked quietly, lips close to your ear and he set his chin on your shoulder. You nodded slightly, feeling almost dizzy from whatever this feeling was that Seungcheol was causing. You could feel his warm breath on your neck as you took another drag from your cigarette. 

“Does the smoke not bother you?” you asked, a little forced, holding the smoke in your lungs. 

“I just want to be close to you,” he whispers, pausing for a moment, “YN, I like you.” 

You giggled at his comment, releasing the smoke from your chest. “I like you too, Seungcheol.”

“No, YN, I mean I really, really like you.” He was emboldened by the alcohol in his system, not wanting to hold back any longer.

To say you were surprised by his sudden confession would be an understatement. You took a sharp inhale of breath, nearly choking on the cold air, and not because of your cigarette, before Seungcheol began again, “I’m sorry if it’s sudden, or if it’s not what you want to hear right now, but I really need you to know that I enjoy spending time with you, and would love the opportunity to get to know you better, if you’ll allow me.” You tossed the butt of your cigarette into the fire pit, blowing out the final bit of smoke, and hesitantly turned around in Seungcheol’s arms. 

Your arms snaked around his shoulder, criss-crossing behind his neck. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the things that go on in my head.” The wine was making you bold too, making you want to tell Seungcheol exactly how you felt. “I’m afraid if you get to know me, you wont like what you find.” Your voice was low, but being so close to you, he had no problem hearing your words.

Seungcheol sighed, looking deep into your eyes that have long since lost their sparkle. “I can’t promise you much, YN. I’m a freelance writer who lives in the middle of nowhere. But what I can promise you, is that whatever I find in you, wont send me running. I know what I’ve already found in you - you’re a sweet, compassionate girl, who in just three days has me falling head over heels,” he breathed, inches away from your face, “I’ve never met anyone like you, YN.” Seungcheol brought his hand from your waist up to your face, the chill making you shudder slightly, ever so gently gracing the back of his fingers against your sharp cheekbone. 

You leaned into his touch, not remembering what it was like to be cared for in such a gentle manner. “Seungcheol, I-” you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You wanted so badly to give in to his sweet words, to let him in and break down your walls for him. You were scared, terrified even, of what that meant. He would learn all about your dark past, your demons, the monsters that threatened to take you down even still. A silent tear trailed down your cheek because of your internal battle. 

Seungcheol was quick to swipe it away with his thumb. “You don’t have to say anything back, YN,” his voice barely a whisper, like if he spoke too loud you’d blow away in the cold breeze, “Just promise me one thing?” You made a sound of confirmation, “One more day.”

At that, you broke down in Seungcheol’s strong arms. Your face pushed into his firm chest, tears flowing freely. Sobs wracked your chest and Seungcheol held you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You weren’t sure, but you think you feel Seungcheol’s chest rising and falling in a rhythm that made it seem like he was crying with you. You didn’t want to chance a look at him, worried it would break you further. You stood there for what felt like an eternity before you calmed enough to pull back from Seungcheol, hands unclasping from behind his back and coming around to fist in the front of his shirt. “Thank you, Seungcheol. Thank you.” You let out a couple more weak sobs, before hugging him as tightly as you could. You didn’t need to explain, Seungcheol understood.

You and Seungcheol stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for the better part of the night, having moved inside to the couch, before you were getting too tired to keep your eyes open. Seungcheol was laying against the back of the couch, you slotted in front of him with his arms around your chest, holding you tightly to him. You let out a small yawn, making Seungcheol smile to himself. “Tired, love?” The nickname made your insides heat, despite how tired you were feeling.

You let out another yawn, bringing your hand up to rub your eyes. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I should probably get going.” You really didn’t want to leave, but you knew you should. You would feel a lot better in the morning if you slept in your own bed, not on this too small couch. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Seungcheol offered, standing up from the couch, pulling you with him. You moved to take off his coat before he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” He smiled down at you, running his hand from your shoulder, down your arm, taking your hand in his. 

You smiled up at the slightly taller man, blushing profusely. You followed Seungcheol through his home, toeing on your shoes at the front door, hands still intertwined. As promised, Seungcheol walked you to your front porch, waiting until you had entered your house and locked the door before walking back to his own home. Once inside, you leaned your back against the door, head tilting until it hit the glass window pane in the middle of it. You sighed to yourself, feeling lighter than you have in years. You weren’t used to this feeling, and on Christmas Eve of all days. Well… You guessed it was probably Christmas now, with how long you spent laying on Seungcheol’s couch. With that thought in mind, you pulled your phone out from Seungcheol’s coat pocket to check the time. Before you could even register the time, you were stopping in your tracks as what greeted you on your phone screen. When was the last time you checked your phone? You’d been so wrapped up in Seungcheol you don’t recall looking at it all night.

On your lock screen, you saw a missed call. Several, actually. From Joshua. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Why was he calling you? You haven’t spoken to him in nearly three years. There was no reason for him to be calling you, unless there was some kind of emergency, right? Panicking, you walked further into the cabin, not bothering to take off the coat or your shoes. You sped walked right into your bedroom, eyes glued to your phone the entire time. Should you call him back? You weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to him right now, especially after the wonderful night you had with Seungcheol. But - what if he was calling to apologize, to make things right? Or what if something terrible happened to him? You had to find out.

As you unlocked your phone, you saw the notification for a new voicemail. Hesitantly, you opened your calls app, and clicked on the message from Joshua. You saw it was only about a minute long. Curiosity getting the best of you, you played the message instead of immediately calling him back:

“Y-YN? YN! W-what are you doing baby sister?” you could tell he was drunk from the way he was slurring his words, panic immediately rising in your chest. “Are you at mom and dad’s cabin? Yo-you always did love it there, didn’t you? Loved it so much you even tried ending your own life there!” A sharp laugh came from the phone, causing you to pull it away from your ear for a second. “You know YN, I wish you- you did. I wish I never pulled you out of th-that fucking lake. Then m-maybe I wouldn’t have to relive that God damn nigh-nightmare every fucking n-night YN,” you didn’t want to listen to this anymore, but your morbid curiosity made you keep the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight, hot tears welling up behind your eyelids, “G-go be with mom and dad, it’s what you want right?! I just-” the line cut off, ending the voicemail. You stumbled backwards, back hitting your bedroom door and mirror, making a loud clanging sound. You couldn’t see, lights still off, not having bothered with them when you burst in the room. Stunned, you still had the phone to your ear, other hand coming up to push at your eyes, willing the tears to stop forming. You slid down the back of your bedroom door, finally letting go of your phone, causing it to clatter down to the wood floor. Your breathing was ragged, eyes still glued shut in pain and panic. You were panicking. You haven’t had a panic attack in a couple of years, but you knew the signs. You hugged your knees to your chest and fell over on your side, sobbing into your forearms. 

Is that how Joshua, your own brother, really felt all these years? He wished he never saved your life? It shouldn’t be surprising to you, the last memory you have of him is in the back of an ambulance, grief written all over his face. That was the last time you saw him, until he texted you months later after countless missed calls, texts, and emails from you. He told you that you needed help, and that he needed to distance himself from you. Did your actions take such a huge toll on his life, that he wished you were no longer on this planet? In your muddled mind it made sense. He said he’s been reliving the nightmare, pulling you out of that lake must have haunted him. Of course he wanted it to end, why else would he have cut off all contact with you for this long?

You aren’t sure how long you laid on your bedroom floor, sobbing, but it must have been hours. By the time you finally pulled yourself up, you could see the beginnings of morning shining through your window. 

You needed to smoke, or drink, or do something to ease this pain. You remembered briefly that you were out of cigarettes, not willing to drive yourself to the store this early in the morning to buy more. Drinking seemed like it would only worsen your pain right now, so you pulled yourself over to your suitcase, tossing it open on your bed. After a few moments of rifling through your things, you found what you were looking for, before heading off into your bathroom.

It was Christmas day. Seungcheol hasn’t been this excited for Christmas since he was a teenager, and his mother was still around to make the holidays special. He hasn’t done much for Christmas since he moved out here. Every once in a while, Mingyu would invite him over for Christmas dinner with his wife a couple towns over, but she was pregnant this year and Seungcheol didn’t want to intrude. Mingyu told him he really didn’t mind, but he insisted it was fine, he could spend this year alone. Except, he wouldn’t be alone now.

Seungcheol was actually excited for Christmas today. Sure, he didn’t have a tree, or presents to give, but he had someone to spend it with. Someone special, which was saying a lot for a recluse like him. Wait until he told Mingyu about this, he would tease him to no end.

It was early, an ungodly hour according to Seungcheol on a normal day, but today was different. As he got out of bed, he startled Bear who shot across the floor, out his bedroom door. He smiled to himself and shook his head lightly. Such a scaredy cat, he thought to himself. Seungcheol planned on making some Christmas cookies, or maybe some rice cakes for today (Mingyu’s recipe, of course), before heading over to your house to spend the day with you. After his late night confession yesterday, Seungcheol was feeling bolder than ever when it came to you, and decided to shoot you a quick text to let you know he was thinking about you.

To YN [7:37 am]: good morning, love

To YN [7:37 am]: I hope it’s ok if I come over in a bit

To YN [7:38 am]: I want to let you sleep in a little longer, but I can’t wait to see you

He pocketed his phone, satisfied with his texts, for now. He assumed you were still sleeping since you were at his last night until well after midnight. 

As the morning went on, Seungcheol whipped up traditional rice cakes. By the time he was done, it was nearing nine in the morning, and he was starting to worry slightly that you haven't texted him back. He usually saw you out on your deck having a morning smoke by now, and he had definitely been sneaking glances out his kitchen window to try and catch a glimpse of you. He didn’t see you all morning, which was causing a slight panic to arise in his chest. 

By 9:15, Seungcheol couldn’t contain his panic anymore. Something was wrong. He could feel it. You should be awake by now. You always came out for a cigarette by now. Pulling on a coat, Seungcheol put on his slippers, rice cakes long forgotten, as he trudged over to your front door.

He knocked gently at first, not wanting to startle you if you indeed were just sleeping in. No response. This time, Seungcheol knocked on the door a little harder, making enough noise to wake you up without a doubt. He waited a couple of minutes before the feeling in his chest dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. This isn’t right. 

Seungcheol walked around the front of your house to peer into your bedroom window. He vaguely remembered the location of it from when he carried you in there the first night you met. He put his hands up to the glass and attached his face to his fingers, looking into your room. He didn’t see you, but what he did see worried him even more. Your bedroom door was wide open and your suitcase was open on your bed. He glanced at the driveway to confirm your car was indeed still there before he ran around to your back deck. Seungcheol was in full panic mode now, seconds away from breaking a window. He sincerely hoped he was overreacting, but after everything you’ve shared with him the past few days, he was suspecting the worse. When he got to your sliding glass door, he attempted to open it, and to his surprise it slid right open. He would have to give you a lecture about locking your doors after he made sure you were ok.

“YN?” he called out, slightly louder than he meant to, panic overtaking him, “YN? Love? Are you in here?” Seungcheol walked through your living room hesitantly, almost scared of what he might find. He didn’t see any sign of you, so he trudged down the hallway leading to your bedroom. “YN!?” His voice was starting to become panicked the longer he couldn’t find you. “YN please,” he sighed out, realizing wherever you were you probably weren’t hearing him. He peeked into your room one more time to make sure you really weren’t in there. He didn’t find you, but what he did find was your cellphone, laying on the floor with a cracked screen. Seungcheol tilted his head as he knelt down to pick the phone up. It lit up with the movement, showing him the missed texts from himself, and missed calls from… Joshua? Oh no. “No. No, no, no” Seungcheol whispered to himself. This couldn't be good. He pocketed your phone, making his way further down the hallway. He saw light coming from underneath one of the closed doors and immediately started banging on it. “YN!? YN are you in there? Please love, open the door!” Seungcheol tried turning the door handle, unsurprised when he found it locked. “YN I will break this door down!” He threatened, terrified beyond belief at what he would find when he did.

With one sharp inhale of air, Seungcheol grabbed onto the door handle and shoved his shoulder into the door. Once, twice, and on the third hit it popped open, breaking the doorframe in the process. Seungcheol ignored the stinging pain in his shoulder as soon as he saw your prone form on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottle in the sink. The air left Seungcheol’s lungs as he knelt down next to your head, gently cradling your head in his hands, setting it in his lap. “YN?! No, no! YN!” He was frantically trying to get his phone out of his pocket and unlocked. “YN, honey, please. Please wake up, please. YN you promised. You promised me YN!” his cries were frantic, tears streaming down his face, “You promised me! Please YN!” he begged you to wake up, to be alive, terrified he would never see your eyes light up or your beautiful smile again. Hot tears streamed onto his phone as he dialed for emergency services.

-

Seungcheol sat in the waiting area of the emergency room, speaking quietly into the phone, fingers playing with a frayed edge of his t-shirt. “I don’t know, Mingyu, they won't tell me anything.” He hadn’t stopped crying since he found you on your bathroom floor, now just letting silent tears roll down his cheeks as he waited for any news.

“You’re telling me, you met some girl four days ago, have been spending all your time with her, and you find her, half alive on her bathroom floor? What kind of mess are you getting yourself into Seungcheol? You’ve never been the type to take an interest in girls, much less ones you barely know!” Mingyu half-yelled through the phone. Seungcheol understood why Mingyu was worried, he really did, but he was just looking for some kind of anchor right now to keep him grounded.

“Gyu, please,” Seungcheol barely whimpered into the phone, lip trembling, “I l- I don’t want to lose her.” He wasn’t ready to say the words yet, not when he wasn’t sure if you were even going to make it. 

Mingyu heaved a heavy sigh, obviously frustrated with the situation. “I’m really sorry, hyung. I wish I could tell you she was going to be alright, she’s - what was her name again?”

“YN.” 

“Right, YN. From what you’ve told me, it seems like you got to her before it was too late, right? I’m sure everything will be fine. You said they’re pumping her stomach now, I’m sure it won't be much longer before you have more answers,” Mingyu sounded like he wanted to add on to that, but thought better of it, “Do you need me to come by? Eunha is at her parents house right now, I hung back to talk to you, I don’t mind-”

“Mingyu, no. It’s fucking Christmas. I’m sorry for taking you away-” he sniffled harder, “away from your family.” The dam is broken now, Seungcheol was unable to stop the tears from flowing, sobs wracking his small frame. 

Mingyu’s heart broke at the sound of his oldest friend’s tears. He didn’t mind leaving his wife for a few hours, he knew she was safe with her parents, probably about to start working on dinner for tonight. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, hyung. Hang in there.”

Seungcheol let out a shaky sigh, looking down at his now black phone screen. He felt like he was underwater, like his heart was beating in his ears. He could vaguely hear the chatter of the nurses and people in the waiting room, but his sole focus was on the pounding in his chest and the sinking feeling in his gut. All he could think about was you; what drove you to this? What could he have done differently last night to ensure your safety? Why was your brother calling you insistently throughout the morning? Most importantly, were you going to be ok? He didn’t want to think about that right now, couldn’t think about that right now, unless he wanted the hospital to have to admit him, too. 

Before Seungcheol could spiral any further, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his younger friend, dressed in gray sweats and a loose black pullover. Mingyu had a sad look in his eyes, not pity, but heartache at the pain his friend was feeling. Mingyu squatted down in front of Seungcheol, his tall stature making them eye level, hand still on his shoulder, “Hey man. Any news?” He asked, solemnly. 

Seungcheol shook his head slightly, trying to collect himself enough to utter a few words. “No. Nothing.” Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, just for a moment. His effort was all in vain, as Mingyu took hold of Seungcheol’s hand, pulling him up into the taller man’s chest, embracing him. Seungcheol’s smaller frame seemed tiny in this moment, shoulders shrunk in on themselves, as Mingyu hugged the broken man.

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” Mingyu whispered to Seungcheol, rubbing a hand up and down his back comfortingly. “We can grab some coffee and you can tell me all about her.” Mingyu wanted to get Seungcheol away from this waiting room full of curious eyes, and wanted him to relax a little. He knew he was going to want to see you as soon as you were in the clear, and he wanted to make sure he was in a good enough state to do so. He could feel Seungcheol nod against his chest, pulling away but still keeping one arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu sat at a quiet table in the corner of the hospital cafeteria, nursing two black coffees. Seungcheol was staring out of the window to his right, not really paying attention to what Mingyu was saying.

“Seungcheol, do you want to talk about it? How did you guys even meet?”

Seungcheol gave a small shrug, “She’s been visiting every year since I moved into my grandma’s house. I just now finally built up the courage to say hi. She seemed sad.” had a permanent frown in his brow. 

“So you wanted to say hello because she seemed sad?” Mingyu seemed unconvinced, still confused at his hyung’s actions, being so out of the ordinary for Seungcheol.

“Yes, Gyu, what more do you want from me?” Seungcheol shot the younger man a glare from where he sat across from him.

Mingyu leaned back slightly, holding his hands up in a pacifying manner. “Hey, hey, man. I just want to hear about her, want you to tell me about her. That’s all.” He said in a hushed tone.

Seungcheol looked down at his coffee, focusing on the small billows of steam rising from it. “I’m sorry - I just -” he looked up at Mingyu, unshed tears threatening to fall again, “She’s perfect, you know? She doesn’t deserve any of this pain. She’s lost her parents, her brother, basically everyone who cared about her. I just wanted to- to be someone she could lean on,” he blinked rapidly, trying to rid the tears before adding on, “I think I love her, Gyu.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, nodding his head. “I support you Seungcheol, you know that. I always will.” Seungcheol nodded at this. He knew it, would never forget it. Him and Mingyu had been through so much together, that’s why he was the first person Seungcheol called when he got to the hospital this morning. “What do you think happened that caused her to do this?”

Seungcheol bit his lip, remembering he had your phone tucked away in his pocket still. He slid it out, setting it on the tabletop between him and Mingyu. “I’m not sure… but I think it has something to do with her brother calling her.” As if he was summoned, Joshua’s name appeared on the small screen, phone vibrating so violently it moved a little across the table, the sound loud in the silence of the room. He’d been calling all morning, and from what Seungcheol could gather from your lock screen, all night, too. It wasn’t his place to go through your phone, or to answer the calls from your brother, especially if him calling had anything to do with your current condition.

“Are you going to answer him?” Mingyu hesitantly asked, looking from the phone, to Seungcheol, and back again as the vibrating faded out. 

Seungcheol shook his head quickly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his temple. He really needed to stop crying, he thought. “No. What if he’s the reason she’s here in the first place?”

“He’s her brother right? Her family?” Mingyu started, seeing Seungcheol nod in confirmation he continued, “don’t you think he should know his sister is in the hospital for attempted suicide?”

Seungcheol scoffed. He was bitter, but part of him knew Mingyu was right. He’s still her family, after all. Would it be the right thing to do, to tell him you’re here? Would he even want to see you? From what you’ve told Seungcheol about your brother, he doesn’t think so. “He left her the last time it happened, hasn’t spoken to her since,” Seungcheol mumbled, almost too quietly for Mingyu to hear, “I’m not sure he would even care.”

Mingyu pursed his lips. He doesn’t know you, nor is he going to pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes. Seungcheol knew you better than he did, so he was going to take Seungcheol’s word for it. “Want to head back up? See if there’s any news?” Seungcheol nodded, looking down at the floor. The both grabbed their to-go cups and headed towards the elevators. 

-

Pain. Seething hot pain in your throat, that’s all you mind was focusing on right now. Your vision was black, and no matter how hard you tried to make a sound, nothing would come out. It felt like a thousand hot knives were forcing themselves down your esophagus, blocking any air flow. You were suffocating, this must be what it feels like to die, right? Because the last thing you remember was laying down on the cool tile floor of your bathroom after you swallowed your entire bottle of antidepressants. The pain in your throat must be from the excessive amount of pills you downed, right? Nothing else could explain this excruciating pain. You were obviously being punished for taking fate into your own hands. That was the only reasonable explanation you could come up with in your current state of mind.

“She’s waking up!” 

Wait. Why can you hear people? If there were people around, were you alive? 

“Administer more Propofol, she needs to be unconscious for this.”

No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be gone. You wanted to be gone, but right now all you could think about now was making this pain stop. You silently prayed that whoever was helping you would make this pain go away as quickly as possible. 

-

Seungcheol was leaning on Mingyu’s firm shoulder, both sitting on ugly plastic green chairs in the hospital waiting room. A nurse had informed Seungcheol that you were out of the operating room, and were moved to a more private ward of the hospital to recover. He wasn’t allowed in yet, as they wanted to monitor you a little while longer to make sure you were out of the woods. They explained to him that the first few hours after an overdose were the most crucial if there was any hope of the brain recovering if there was any damage. 

Seungcheol was distraught, to say the least. Torn between calling Joshua and waiting. He knew you didn’t have your parents anymore, knew that you and your brother didn’t speak, despite the 100 plus missed calls on your phone that said otherwise. He wasn’t sure if you had any friends back home in Busan, but from what you’ve told him, he guessed you didn’t. He remembers you telling him about Jeongyeon and how she moved to the States, so he figured she was out of the question as well. He was worried that you wouldn’t remember what happened when you woke up, and you would be confused and scared, alone in the hospital. He thought about calling your brother, just so you’d have a familiar face to wake up to, but the devil on his shoulder wouldn’t let him make the call. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that if you did, in fact, remember what happened, the last person you’d want to see is Joshua. 

Mingyu was deathly silent, texting his wife and family updates about you and Seungcheol. Despite not knowing Seungcheol well, or you at all, Mingyu and his entire extended family took an interest in your well-being. Mingyu told them how you had no family, and they completely understood why he was missing Christmas dinner, being the kind and caring people Seungcheol knew them to be. Especially Eunha, he was honored to be able to call her a sister, just as he was to call Mingyu his chose brother. Seungcheol felt bad for keeping him, but Mingyu reassured him over and over again, this is where he wants to be right now. 

“Mr. Choi?” a mouse-like voice called from the circular desk at the center of the waiting area. 

Seungcheol shot ramrod straight in his seat, eyes searching for the voice. A short, dark-haired woman who looked to be around Seungcheol’s age, was making her way towards him. She had a sweet smile on her face, which only minutely lessened Seungcheol’s worries.

“Mr. Choi?” She asked again, hesitantly. She waited for Seungcheol’s grunt in confirmation before continuing, “I don’t have anyone listed as Miss Y/LN’s next of kin, so since you were the one who brought her here, would you like an update on her status?” He voice was kind and soft, respectful of the environment they were currently in.

Seungcheol cleared his throat lightly, “Ye-yes, of course. Yes.” He stuttered out, standing up and moving towards the kind nurse. He glanced over his shoulder at Mingyu, who gave him a small smile, encouraging him to go with the lady.

“I’ll be fine, do what you need to do,” Mingyu waved him off.

The young nurse nodded and turned around, walking back towards the desk. Seungcheol trailed after her like a lost puppy, waiting for answers. “Mr. Choi, we’re going to be keeping Miss Y/LN here at the hospital for a few days. She’s been put under suicide watch for 72 hours, as is protocol with cases like these,” Seungcheol nodded solemnly, understanding the severity of the situation, “I see you listed on her intake paperwork that this wasn’t her first attempt. Is that right?”

Seungcheol nodded his head. He didn’t like sharing your personal stories with this stranger, but he understood it was going to help them better care for you, which is all he wanted. “Yes. She had attempted… yeah. Three years ago.” 

The woman nodded her head, writing something on the clipboard she now held in her hands. “Thank you, Mr. Choi. We’re going to continue to monitor her, but her vitals are looking good, and there are no outward signs of brain damage right now. This could change however, as once she’s awake and alert, her doctor will want to do another brain scan.”

Seungcheol nodded, just glad you were alive and breathing. 

“She’s not awake yet, the sedatives are still wearing off, but they’ve removed intubation and she’s resting,” Seungcheol winced at this fact, “would you like to see her?”

Seungcheol’s eyes finally met the small nurses after staring daggers into the hospital linoleum. “I can see her?”

The woman gave a short nod and a gentle smile. “Of course. I can tell you care a lot about her. She’s very lucky to have you, sir.”

Seungcheol nodded, looking down again. He didn’t feel very lucky, and didn’t think you would either right about now. But he accepted the compliment anyway.

“Follow me.” 

Seungcheol followed the lady back through two industrial looking double doors, past sterile smelling hospital rooms and nurses and doctors moving rapidly up and down the corridors. Seungcheol always hated hospitals, they reminded him of when his mother and his grandmother passed away. He was so hyper focused on walking, he barely heard her when the nurse spoke again. “Before you go in, it’s best to take a moment to prepare yourself for what you’re going to see. It can be really hard to see a loved one in this state, so I’m here to answer any questions you may have,” she advised kindly as she came to a stop outside your room. Seungcheol’s stomach fluttered at the mention of you being his ‘loved one’ and he mentally scolded himself. This nurse had no idea about the strange dynamic that is your relationship, if you could even call it that. 

Seungcheol shook his head lightly, indicating he didn’t have any questions, at least, not for her. She gave one nod of her head, before clutching her clipboard to her chest. “My name is Mina, I’m the hospital’s care coordinator, please let me know if you need anything. I wish you the best, Mr. Choi.” She said as she walked away. 

Seungcheol took a deep breath through his mouth, exhaling slowly through his nose. He wasn’t prepared to see you in a hospital bed, but his excitement at seeing you alive was overtaking his senses right now. He slowly pushed the door to your room open, taking two hesitant steps through the threshold. His eyes immediately scanned the room, falling over your fragile, but breathing, body. As Seungcheol quietly shut the door behind him, tears automatically started falling down his cheeks, silent sobs wracking his chest. He swiftly closed the gap between him and your bed, lip trembling, and took your cold, limp hand in his. He didn’t even bother pulling one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs with him, he just knelt on the floors, kneecaps be damned. He wasn’t sure how he was going to react when he saw you, he knew he would feel relief at knowing you were alive, but he didn’t expect to be quite so overcome with emotion. He definitely didn’t expect to feel intense happiness at the fact that he could hold you again. You had no idea the effect you had on him, and in only four short days. 

You laid on the hospital bed, dressed in one of those white, scratchy hospital gowns. Your eyes were even more sunken in than Seungcheol remembers, skin sallow and taking on an almost sickly green color. Your hair was a mess, and Seungcheol inwardly cursed the nurses for not at least brushing through it for you. Your arm was bruised purple and green at the crease of your elbow where your IV now sat. Your bottom half was covered by a thick blue blanket that looked a little itchy. Seungcheol grabbed the top of the blanket with his free hand, moving it up farther on your body, tucking it lightly at your far side. Even in this state, you looked beautiful to him. Despite what has taken place over the last 12 or so hours, he was still enraptured by you and your beauty. 

Seungcheol brought your bony hand up to his face, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your knuckles. He vaguely registered that it was your first ‘kiss’. He would need to make up for that later, once you were home and safe. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and his heart hurt. He didn’t have any more tears to cry, just silent sobs as he laid his forehead on your cold hand. 

Eventually Mingyu made his way up to your room, after being informed by Mina that Seungcheol was up there with you. He knocked softly on the door twice before opening it and entering. Seungcheol was still knelt on the floor by your bed. Mingyu sighed and knelt down next to him

“She’s gonna be ok hyung,” Mingyu started, placing his hand on Seungcheol’s back, “you should rest before she wakes up.”

Seungcheol nodded, allowing Mingyu to pull a chair over for him before sitting down in it, never letting go of your hand. Mingyu sat in a chair a little bit behind Seungcheol, making sure the older man knew he was there for support. They sat in silence like that for a while before Seungcheol started to feel drowsy, eyes falling shut and drifting into a fitful sleep, forehead pressed to your bed. 

-

You slowly blinked your eyes open, squinting from the bright lights above you. An intense smell of bleach hit your nose causing your throat to constrict and burn. The burn. It was still there, but dulled from last time you remember. You closed your eyes again, squeezing them shut in pain as you tried to swallow, causing a small, yet hoarse, whimper to emit from your throat. 

Immediately, Seungcheol’s head shot up at the sound of you. He started rubbing soothing circles onto the back of your hand, still clutched in his. “YN,” he whispered, standing from his seated position, moving even closer to your body.

You blinked your eyes a few times before looking up at Seungcheol. He could see the pain in your eyes with the way they were scrunched up cutely at the sides. You brought your hand to your throat subconsciously and Seungcheol knew what you meant. He grabbed the pitcher of water from your bedside table and poured you a cup, passing it to you. You silently thanked him with a nod of your head and started gulping down the water. Seungcheol sat back down and watched you carefully. He heard Mingyu stand from behind him, dimmed the lights, having watched how you were squinting your eyes, and quietly left the room to give you both some privacy. Seungcheol reminded himself to thank him profusely later for the man’s foresight, but right now his focus was on you.

You finished the cup of water and Seungcheol took it from your hand and set it back on the side table. “YN,” he whispered again, bringing his hand up to brush against your cheek, “you’re ok.” He smiled at you, genuinely smiled for the first time since last night. He was so beyond happy to see you, alive and well in front of him. 

You had a million thoughts running through your mind right now, and Seungcheol could tell by the panic stricken look flashing in your eyes. He soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your arm that was free of any tubes. “It’s ok, love,” he comforted, “I’m here to listen if you want to talk, or if you don’t I’ll sit here with you in silence. You don’t need to explain yourself. I’m just happy you’re ok.” He smiled at you, and even though you could feel the love radiating off of him, you felt sick to your stomach.

How could Seungcheol still want to be by your side after what you had done? How could he still want to comfort you when you were like this? You broke your promise to him. You had a lot of questions, but there was one at the forefront of your mind. “Did you find me?” Your voice was rough from the intubation tube, which you guessed was the reason for your throat burning before. You looked away from Seungcheol when you asked, not being brave enough to meet his eye, in fear of what you might find. 

He sighed lightly, almost inaudibly. “Yes.” You could tell without even looking at him that he was choking up, on the verge of tears. At the sound of his voice, you let your own hot tears roll down your cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away, eyes still not meeting his. A large hand immediately came up to wipe them away. “Hey, don’t cry, love,” he whispered, “I’m not mad, I’m not upset. These are happy tears, I promise.”

“I’m not happy,” you sniffled, “I’m sorry, Seungcheol, that you had to see me like that.” You brought your own hand up to your face to wipe at your nose. 

“YN, I don’t care about that. I swear to you, all that matters to me now is you. I want to keep you safe, want to help you fight this battle so you don’t have to do it alone. You have me, all of me.” His words were so sincere, so loving, you spared a glance at him, and the moment your eyes met, you knew he meant everything that he said. Even in your current state, he sent butterflies erupting throughout your stomach. You took in his face for a moment, red and puffy, tear stained cheeks, but his eyes were happy. You felt safe with him. You knew you’d have to talk about what all this means later, explain to him why you did what you did, but for now, you just wanted to be in his presence. 

-

Seungcheol sat with you for the next few hours, texting Mingyu to head home to his family, apologizing profusely for keeping him away on Christmas. You didn’t talk much, just offering sweet smiles when Seungcheol would check to make sure you were doing ok. Like the nurse told Seungcheol earlier, your doctor came in to take you for a brain scan and to run some other tests. Seungcheol waited patiently in your room while you were being tested. 

When you returned, the doctor checked your vitals again, before letting you both know that he would be back in the morning to run some more tests, and give you the results of the brain scan. You both thanked him quietly before he wished you a merry Christmas, and took his leave.

Alone again with Seungcheol, you felt his calm aura wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered quietly into the dim room, “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas,” you said with a slight frown.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Seungcheol assured, walking over to your bed and sitting next to you, “There is no place I’d rather be than by your side.”

Just as Seungcheol finished his sentence, a violent buzzing resounded through the room. Seungcheol’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he realized your phone was still in his pocket. Hesitantly, he brought it out of the back of his jeans and showed you what was on the screen.

You flinched when you saw your cell phone. You knew you’d have to confront Joshua and Seungcheol about what happened sooner or later, but you were really hoping it would be the latter. You reached out for your phone, pushing the red decline button. Seungcheol looked at you with an unreadable expression as you let the phone fall to your side onto the bed.

You sighed, looking at Seungcheol, lips pursed. “Go ahead, you can ask me,” you offered, rubbing a hand down the front of your face.

Seungcheol looked sheepishly at you. Of course he wanted to know what happened, but he didn’t want to push you to tell him or to relive whatever it was that pushed you that far in the first place. His curiosity got the better of him as he chewed his lip raw. “What happened?” His voice was barely a whisper, the beeping of the equipment in the hospital room almost enough to mask it. 

“Joshua was calling me, I guess, while we were having dinner last night,” you wrung your hands together, trying to warm them up in the frigid temperature in your room, “I didn’t think to check my phone until after you walked me home.” Seungcheol reached over to stop your ministrations, cupping both your hands in his and blowing warm breath between them. You smiled slightly at his thoughtful actions before continuing, “He was drunk, I think. I don’t know if he even realized what he said, but - but he left me a voicemail,” your voice was getting quieter the further into your story you got, “he said he wished I had succeeded three years ago, that he wished he never saved me.” Your words shocked Seungcheol, hell they shocked you. You still couldn’t believe that Joshua said those things. The mere thought almost sending you into another panic attack.

Seungcheol was seething. He had his suspicions that this was your brother’s doing, but he didn’t expect those words to fall from your mouth. He gripped your hands just a little bit together as he brought the back of them to his lips, forcing his emotions down. Seungcheol bit down hard on his tongue to stop him from saying exactly what he wanted to say about your idiot brother, but he knew that you were still hurting, still recovering, and didn’t want to upset you or hurt you even further.

“YN - I’m sure he was just drunk,” he starts, before he realizes that the man who calls himself your brother has no excuse for what he said to you, “that does not, and I mean does not, give him an excuse to treat you like that, but you literally haven’t heard from him in what? Three years?” You nodded your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Seungcheol gently reached up and thumbed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from the assault of your teeth before continuing, “He’s called you over a hundred times since last night. I haven’t answered, he doesn’t know you’re here, as far as I know. If you don’t want to tell him, don’t want to talk to him, I will support you, but I also think it would be good for you to get closure from him. Even if that means cutting him out of your life.” 

You nodded slowly, taking in Seungcheol’s words. You knew he was right. You didn’t want to go through life wondering if Joshua really meant what he said, if he was sorry, if he still thinks about you. You decided to table the conversation for now. It’s not doing anyone any good stressing yourself out about it. First, you needed to have a serious conversation with Seungcheol about what exactly was happening between the two of you. You didn’t want there to be any questions when you went home from the hospital, wanted to feel secure in the choices you were about to make.

“Seungcheol?”

“Yes, darling.” Seungcheol said cooly, still holding onto your hands. He was doing that a lot today and you definitely weren’t complaining. 

“What is this?” You pulled one of your hands gently from Seungcheol’s grasp and gestured half-assedly between you both. 

Seungcheol’s brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out and giving you a soft look and grabbing your escaped hand again. “YN - I - I don’t know what you’re expecting,” here it goes, you thought, he’s going to reject you. He’s going to say that this was all too much and he’s only here because he feels guilty. “I really didn’t want to do this here, while you’re lying in a hospital bed,” he scoffs lightly, shaking his head. Your heart drops. Is he really going to leave like this? You bite both your lips between your teeth, looking away to brace yourself for what he’s about to say. “YN, I think I’m in love with you.”

Your head shoots up so quickly you think you might have whiplash. Seungcheol giggles quietly at your reaction, bright smile on display for a moment. “W-what?” Is the dignified answer you sputter out. 

This time, Seungcheol is looking you directly in the eyes when he says, “I love you, YN. I know it’s only been a few days since we met, but I already can’t imagine my life without you in it. I don’t care what hurdles we have to get past, I don’t care about all your baggage that you seem to think will scare me away, and I definitely don’t care that you seem to think you aren’t worth it. I know you’re worth it, you’re worth all of it.” Before you could form a response, Seungcheol is standing up from his chair, wrapping both arms around your small frame and bending a little awkwardly to pull you up slightly to a sitting position. A beat passes before you realize he’s trying to hug you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his neck the best you can while  attached to all the wires and tubes. Seungcheol nuzzles into your hair, which you think is probably a horrid mess right now, and whispered close to your ear, “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I thought I lost you forever, that’s the biggest absence I could’ve felt from you. It made me realize I never want to let you go again.” He pulls back slightly, placing the softest kiss to your cheek before placing his forehead against yours.

You looked up at him through your now wet lashes, and you don’t even have to think about your next words, “I love you too, Seungcheol. You make me feel safe. Something I haven’t felt in a really, really long time.” You choked out the last couple of words, tears making their way down your cheeks now. “I’m so sorry I put you through this, I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” You were sobbing again. 

“Shh,” he shushes you quietly against your hair, “It’s okay, love. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Whatever we need to work through, we will. Together.”

“Thank you Seungcheol, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, YN. I just want to see you continue living your life.”

You sniffled, pulling back from Seungcheol to give him a smile. “Merry Christmas, Seungcheol.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

You were stuck in the hospital for the mandatory three days after Christmas, something you were unfortunately familiar with. During that time they ran multiple tests to make sure you didn’t have any lasting damage and you met with two different therapists. Sadly, you knew and understood these procedures, as this wasn’t the first time you went through them. The second therapist you met with suggested putting you on a different antidepressant from the ones you had before, along with an anti-anxiety medication for at least the next few weeks to get you through the holidays. 

Seungcheol stayed with you almost the entire time (aside from going home to check on Bear and to shower), sleeping on two chairs pushed together, despite you inviting him up on your bed multiple times. He refused on the grounds of ‘I don’t want my first time in bed with you to be at the hospital’, to which you rolled your eyes at. He brought back Uno to play with you at the hospital and even picked up some chicken from the restaurant you like instead of the hospital food you complaied about every night. Seungcheol had really lightened your mood over the last few days, mixed with the new medications, you were almost feeling back to your ‘normal’ self, or at least as normal as you could be. 

You and Seungcheol had decided that it would be best if you took at least one more week off work to recover after the new year, and Seungcheol was quick to offer to stay with you at your cabin, or have you come stay with him at his, enticing you with Bear cuddles. Eventually you decided on alternating between the two houses to give you a little reprieve from the memories your cabin will inevitably bring back. Neither of you were dim, you both knew being at the hospital was like a vacation away from your demons. When you stepped foot back in that house, you would likely struggle, at least a little bit more than you are here. The second therapist you saw not so gently indicated to Seungcheol that you shouldn’t be left alone, to which he cooly agreed without making you feel too embarrassed. 

Being on bed rest for a few days, on top of having your stomach pumped, really did a number on your muscles. You were consistently sore, and were almost too weak to walk on your own. Seungcheol was quite the gentleman, massaging your calves when they hurt and walking you to the bathroom when you needed it. You felt lucky to be loved by him. You wanted to be able to show him just how much you could love him in return, and made a mental note to do just that once you recovered. 

On your second night in the hospital, a man by the name of Mingyu came by to check on you and Seungcheol. He introduced himself as Seungcheol’s best friend and you learned he was married with a baby due in just a few weeks. He was kind and handsome, just like Seungcheol. You also found out that he had stayed with Seungcheol at the hospital, on Christmas, while you were unconscious. You vehementaly apologized to the man, getting into a bowing battle while you were sitting on the edge of your bed, while he refused your apologies. You decided you really liked Mingyu and his dorky and aloof personality and were glad Seungcheol had such a great friend to be there for him. 

You were finally being released on December 28th into Seungcheol’s care, something he wasn’t going to take lightly. The hospital made him sign paperwork saying he would keep an eye on you, ensuring someone was always with you for the next two weeks. While it made you feel slightly like a teenager again, you couldn’t deny that you probably needed it, and were just thankful it was Seungcheol who would be the one watching over you and not your idiot brother. 

It was nearing seven in the evening, well past sunset, when Seungcheol rolled your wheelchair, another accommodation you tried to fight, out to his car. He helped you into the front seat, making sure you were comfortable before strapping you in with the seatbelt, closing the door, and jogging to the driver’s side. 

Seungcheol clapped his hands together and rubbed them furiously together for a moment. “It’s freezing! Let’s get you home, baby!” He flashed you a bright smile before starting the engine. 

You giggled at his antics and felt your cheeks heat at the pet name, covering your mouth with your hand. You were feeling pretty good on the drive home, Seungcheol looking over at you every couple of minutes to make sure you were alright and the heater was warm enough. You had lost a bit more weight in the hospital and your limbs were exceptionally cold. You were curled up in the passenger seat watching the trees zoom past the window. Sometime during the drive, Seungcheol reached over across the center console and placed his large hand over your knee, the warmth seeping through the leggings you were wearing. You glanced over at him, softly smiling at eachother, and placed your much smaller hand over his, intertwining your fingers together. 

The drive wasn’t long back to your cabin, maybe twenty minutes, but in those twenty minutes, you grew excited. Excited to spend time with Seungcheol tonight, to lay with each other in your bed, excited for the future for what felt like the first time since your parents passed. You pictured your parents for a moment, a fleeting thought, what would they think of Seungcheol? You wish they could’ve met him. You’re sure your mom would have loved his kind nature and his ability to cook. Your dad would have liked that he had good manners and was always a gentleman. You turned your head to look out the window, smiling sadly to yourself. You were sad they were gone, of course, but you were also happy in this moment and you didn’t want your memories to subtract from that. 

“Almost home, love.” Seungcheol said, squeezing your knee. You didn’t realize you had just about dozed off, head leaning on the window. You pulled your hand away from Seungcheol’s to rub at your eyes briefly. “Uh, YN?” You looked up at Seungcheol in confusion, his tone almost panicked. “Whose car is that?”

Your eyes immediately found the car in question, a sleek, black sports car, parked behind your crappy silver sedan in the cabin’s driveway. It only took you a moment to realize by the custom license plate ‘1230’ that it was your brother’s. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as Seungcheol turned into his own driveway. He could tell by your reaction, you didn’t want to see the owner of that car. 

“My brother.”

-

It took you a good thirty minutes of pacing Seungcheol’s kitchen and countless encouragements from the man himself to build up the courage to go over to your cabin. You had so many questions; why was Joshua here? How long had he been there? How did he get in? You know you had the locks changed in the last three years since the incident. What confused you the most though, is the fact that his calls completely stopped after Christmas day. You had assumed that he had given up trying to contact you and went on with his life, but apparently he had different plans. Had he been here the entire time? Why had the calls stopped? You had more questions than answers as you paced around.

“Are you ready baby?” Seungcheol asked you from the kitchen, standing up from pouring food into Bear’s bowl.

“I really don’t know, Seungcheol,” you twisted your wrist in your other hand, a nervous habit, “What if he’s here to yell at me again?” You stomach was doing flips thinking of all the things Joshua might have to say to you. Of all the things you had to say to him.

“YN, I really don’t think he blew your phone up for a day and then drove all the way out here to yell at you,” Seungcheol started softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “and besides, if he is here to yell at you, I’ll be right by your side the entire time. You know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right?” His voice and his deep brown eyes were so sincere that your brain couldn’t help but cave.

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh. Seungcheol smiled at you and pinched your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, brought your face up to meet his gently, and placed a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fell shut and you felt all the tension in your body flow out of you at once. This man really did have an immense effect on you, and you were thankful for that in this moment. “It’s now or never, I guess.”

You and Seungcheol walked hand in hand over to your cabin, standing at your front door, you hesitated before unlocking it. Seungcheol squeezed your hand as a silent gesture to let you know he was with you. You took a few cautious steps into the house, silently looking around the open living room. No sign of Shua yet.

As you stepped around the corner, you could hear faint rustling coming from one of the rooms. “Shua?” You called gently, probably not quite loud enough for anyone to hear. “Joshua?” You called a little louder. The rustling stopped. Now you heard quick footsteps, loud clumsy footsteps that you could never mistake having lived with them for a majority of your life, heading in your direction. You stood half in front of Seungcheol, your hand still intertwined with his behind your back waiting for your brother to appear. 

Joshua stumbled out of his old bedroom, looking not at all what you expected him to look like. He was wearing an old pair of black sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that you think once had your father’s college alumni printed on it. His light ash brown hair, that’s new, was disheveled and sticking out in every direction, looking like he had run his hand through it at least a thousand times. But what shocked you the most, was the pure panic in his eyes. As soon as his eyes met yours, the panic seemed to dissipate, though it didn’t completely disappear. He rushed over to you, placing both his large hands on the tops of your shoulders, startling you and causing you to bump into Seungcheol behind you.

“YN - Oh my god, YN,” Joshua started to sob, head dropping down onto your shoulder. You felt Seungcheol let go of your hand and placed both of his hands on your waist, holding you steady against his chest. “Thank God you’re ok! Where the hell have you been!?” Joshua was full on crying into your shoulder now, tears staining Seungcheol’s sweatshirt he had let you wear home from the hospital. You were still pretty weak on your legs from the bedrest, so you started to wobble a bit from the pressure Joshua was putting on you.

You started to bring your hand up to lightly push back from Joshua to maintain your balance, bracing yourself against Seungcheol. Joshua looked at you with confusion in his eyes, before he glanced up seemingly noticing the blonde man behind you for the first time.

“Who the hell are you?” Joshua demanded, though he didn’t sound very threatening with tears flowing down his face. 

“I-” Seungcheol started, but you cut him off, feeling suddenly defensive of the man behind you. You knew your brother’s anger, you were intimately familiar with it and Seungcheol deserved none of it. 

“My boyfriend,” you started, causing Seungcheol’s eyes to widen slightly. It’s not that he didn’t like the new title, he was just shocked, hearing it come from you. “Why are you here, Shua?”

“Boy- boyfriend? YN what is going on? Is that where you’ve been? Sleeping around with him?” You furrowed your brow, mouth dropping open. Was he drunk again? 

“Are you fucking drunk again, Joshua?!” You started to raise your voice, attempting to pull away from Seungcheol, but he wasn’t letting you move any further, worried for both you and your brother at this point. He’s never heard you raise your voice, and if he’s being honest, it’s rather intimidating.

“Yeah YN, I am! I drove 3 hours down to this God forsaken cabin last night to find my baby sister missing, nowhere to be found with the front door wide open and an empty bottle of pills in the bathroom. How the fuck do you think I was supposed to deal with this?!” He was near screaming at this point. Well, the door explains how Joshua got into the house. 

You raised your finger up and pointed it right at Joshua’s chest, “Oh, I don’t know Shua, maybe you could have actually gone out and looked for me instead of sitting on your ass and drinking yourself to death!” Seungcheol had a tight grip on your upper arms at this point, making sure you didn’t get physical. He was pretty sure your brother wouldn’t hurt you, he hoped, but he couldn’t say the same for you. 

Joshua scoffed at you, taking a small step forward so your finger pushed into his firm chest. “I thought you were dead YN! I was fucking terrified I was going to find you out in that God damned lake, frozen to death. I- I-” he stuttered out, fresh tears building up at his lashes and anger dissipating in a mere instant, “I was scared. I didn’t want to find you out there again.”

Though Joshua’s anger seemed to be gone, yours was only building. “Scared? You were scared!? Why!? Because if you found me out there, you knew it would have been your fault?” You spit the last words at your brother, jabbing your finger harder into his chest, you knew it was low, but he literally said it himself in his voicemail, what did you owe him in this moment?

You watched as Joshua let the tears fall down his cheeks, biting at his trembling lower lip. “I’m so - so sorry, YN,” he whimpered, actually whimpered. You don’t think you’ve ever heard your older brother whimper. “You have to under- understand that I didn’t mean what I said the other night. I listened to the voicemail a few hours after I left it and I- I was so worried when you weren’t answering your phone. I wanted to apologize, take it back, but I was scared it was too late. I even called the police the day after to ask if they- th-” he didn’t need to finish that sentence, you knew what he meant. If they found your body. You heard Seungcheol inhale a sharp breath behind you, obviously affected by what Joshua was trying to say. You nearly forgot he has been a witness to this whole scene, he’s been so patient and quiet. “They said they didn’t find… anyone. I tried to let it go, tried to let you ignore me, but I couldn’t. I had to come down here and see for myself.”

“Well, here I am. You can leave. Now,” you spat, turning around and walking towards your kitchen. “C’mon Seungcheol,” you mumbled, taking Seungcheol’s hand in yours. 

“YN - wait,” it wasn’t your brother’s voice that heard say those words, but Seungcheol’s. You stopped and turned around, staring at him like he grew two heads. He took a step closer to you, placing his hands atop your shoulders, “You need closure, YN,” he whispered softly down at you. Your eyes softened at his ability to stay so calm and level headed throughout this entire ordeal. You blinked up at him a few times before nodding your head. 

Seungcheol didn’t want to put you in a position you were uncomfortable with and he knew you didn’t want to look at your brother right now. Hell, he wanted to beat the shit out of Joshua himself, his anger only growing throughout your conversation with him, but he knew you needed this. He knew this would be the first step in your healing. 

You took a few steps past Seungcheol, stopping a few feet in front of your brother. Joshua, who had previously been staring a hole through the carpet, met your eyes with his glistening ones. Yes, he said horrible things to you. Yes, he has treated you as if you don’t exist for the past three years. But, he’s still your brother, right? He’s quite literally the only family you have left in this world. With both your parents gone, grandparents long dead, and no other siblings, Shua was really all you had. Even though he may not deserve your forgiveness, don’t you owe it to yourself to try and patch up your relationship? Even the thoughts sounded weak in your brain, after all he’s made you feel, but he really was all you had left. If you were going to move on from this, Seungcheol was right, you needed closure one way or another.

“Shua…” you trailed off, looking up at the ceiling attempting to stop the rush of tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You weren’t sure if you should tell him what happened over the last few days, since you last heard his voice. He was the reason you were in the hospital in the first place, but did you really want to make him feel the guilt for putting you there? You weren’t so sure. Your caring nature yelling at you internally to lie, to sugar coat things to spare your brother the pain. Before you could fight your internal battle, it was Joshua who spoke first. 

“Can we talk about this, a little more privately maybe?” He questioned, his sour tone catching Seungcheol’s attention. Seungcheol has tried to stay quiet through all of this, hoping to let you hash it out on your own. It wasn’t his place, after all. He didn’t know your brother, and he believed you could handle yourself. But he wasn’t about to leave you alone with Joshua, and he needed to make sure the other man knew that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Seungcheol started, brow furrowed menacingly, folding his arms across his chest, “She is in my care, after all.” He really didn’t want to play that card, unsure of how you would feel about it, but he really, really, needed Joshua to know that he wasn’t going to budge. 

“What the hell do you mean she’s in ‘your care’?” Joshua narrowed his eyes, shooting a questioning glare your way.

You let out a heavy sigh, briefly turning your body to give Seungcheol an apologetic look. “I’ve been in the hospital, Shua. They only released me on the condition he stays with me, or vice versa.” Fuck it, maybe he deserved to feel guilty. 

“Wh-what do you mean you were in the hospital?” His previous distraught look coming back, “Why didn’t you call me? I’m your family I should be the one-”

You cut him off before he could finish that statement, “Taking care of me? Joshua, you left me at a hospital three years ago and haven’t so much as said ‘hello’ to me since then. What makes you think you have any right to even assume I would want you to care for me?” Joshua at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself for the first time tonight, gaze shifting down to the floor again.

“YN, I- I called that night, on Christmas Eve, to apologize,” he looked behind you at a glaring Seungcheol before looking back at your equally enraged face, “I know, I know! I definitely didn’t do that in the voicemail that I left, ok I know,” he put his hand up as if to pacify you, “I had been drinking and I was thinking about you - in fact I - I think about you all the time. I’ve just been a terrified asshole who was too afraid you’d reject my apology after so long. I had the courage that night and tried calling you a few times. When you didn’t answer I figured you hated me, and it set me off with how drunk I was. I- I’m s-so sorry YN, I never, ever meant to hurt you like this. I was so scared of losing you, I tried to distance myself from you, so if I did l-lose you, it wouldn’t hurt as bad as when we lost mom and dad.” Joshua was full on sobbing at this point.

Your eyes softened minutely at his words, the fire in your eyes fleeting, but still there. “You’re fucking right you’ve been an asshole Shua,” you scoffed, “did you ever think about what I needed? How I felt? You distancing yourself from me was like having my entire family ripped away from me. You were all I had left. You are all I have left.” Your last words were whispered, but your brother heard them loud and clear. 

Joshua's long legs only needed two steps in your direction before you were chest to chest with him, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Regardless of how much you wanted to hate your brother right now, you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be in his familiar arms again. He hasn’t hugged you in years, not since your parents death, and you’re feeling lightheaded from all the physical contact you’ve had in the last week. It took you a moment to respond to his hug, slowly wrapping your weak arms around his middle. He could feel the way your too small frame was beginning to shake, presuming you were weak from being in the hospital, though he could feel how thin you were. It took him a second to realize you were sobbing in his arms, too.

Joshua nuzzled his face into the side of your head, having to bend a little to account for the height difference, and croaked, “I’m sorry YN. I’m so, so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, please let me be here for you. Let me be your shoulder to cry on, be the one you confide in again.” He sniffled, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. “I’ll stay by your side, I won't leave you, I promise.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” you blubbered out, soaking Joshua’s shirt with your tears. He ran a hand soothingly up and down your back as he let his own silent tears fall. 

“I’ve missed you too, baby sister.”

Seungcheol had been a silent observer, staying back, allowing you both to have the space you needed to sort this out. At this point, he wore a small smile, arms still crossed over one another. He decided it was time for him to leave you both alone for a moment to catch up and talk things through a little further. He quietly slipped out of the living room with a plan to make some hot tea for you, briefly meeting Joshua’s eyes which were silently thanking the older man. Seungcheol gave a quick nod and turned to walk away. 

-

You and your brother spent the next few hours talking about everything on your living room couches. He stayed close, but not too close, to give you your own space, which you appreciated. Seungcheol came back after a little while, hot tea in mugs in tow. He sat by your side, offering you silent support with a hand on your knee or shoulder. You were thankful for his presence. Even though you and Joshua had talked some things out, you still felt a little awkward with him here. It had been over three years since you’d seen him, to be fair.

You told Joshua about your job and how you haven’t left it yet, despite hating your boss for so long. You talked about your life in Busan and how you moved into a new apartment a couple years back. He told you about his firm in Seoul and how he’s been working on a new book. He was hopeful that one of his previous books was up for some kind of award. You expressed how proud you were of him, finally having the chance to tell him. He told you about how he and Yuna broke up last year, a mutual thing, to which you expressed your not quite sympathy. Most importantly, you talked about your brief stay at the rehab facility three years ago and your most recent stay in the hospital here. You both cried when you talked about your second attempt at your life. You hugged each other and Joshua apologized profusely to you, which you graciously accepted.

After you had spilled all your collective tears and put everything out on the table, Joshua turned his attention to the other man in the room, who up until this point, had been relatively quiet, only chiming in when asked a question. “Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol was taken by surprise at the sound of his name coming from Joshua’s mouth. Eyebrows raised, he looked at the ashy haired man sitting across from him, “Hmm?” 

“I wanted to thank you,” Joshua said apologetically, “I don’t know you, but you saved my sister. She also seems to trust you,” he gave you a quick smile, “so I guess I should, too. But really, man, thank you. I don’t know what I would do if I lost her, too.” His gaze fell to his hands that were clasped in his lap.

Seungcheol sat up a little straighter on the couch before answering, “You don’t have to thank me. I share the sentiment, I don’t know what I would do without her.” He smiled down at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, making you give him a small smile in return. “I really love her,” he said lovingly. He was talking to Joshua, but he was staring into your eyes, getting lost in them for a moment. Joshua noticed this, and couldn’t hide the smile that was spreading across his own face. That’s when he knew you were in good hands. He trusted Seungcheol.

The next hour passed by quickly, sharing more stories amongst the three of you. Eventually Joshua told you he had to get going, needing to be back in Seoul for a meeting tomorrow morning. He offered to cancel and stay the night, but you and Seungcheol both told him he should go, and not to worry about you. If Seungcheol wasn’t here, Joshua would have definitely canceled, but he felt good about leaving you with him after the talks you’d had these past few hours. 

You wrapped your arms around your brother's neck, reaching up on your tiptoes. Joshuas arms wrapped around your middle, lifting you up slightly as he whispered in your ear, “I love you baby sister, please don’t forget that. I never stopped loving you.”

“I love you too Shua, don’t be a stranger.” You smiled up at your older brother. 

“I won't, trust me,” he let out a short laugh, devoid of any humor before setting you back down on your feet. He turned to look at Seungcheol, before reaching out to shake his hand. Seungcheol walked the short distance to grab his hand, only to be pulled into Joshua’s frame for a hug. “Thank you again, Seungcheol. I wish I could stay longer to get to know you a little better, but it was really nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure there will be more opportunities for us to meet,” Seungcheol said, with an almost demanding tone. Joshua took the warning for what it was, leaving you a little oblivious next to them. “Drive safe.”

Joshua pulled away, giving you one final smile, before turning around to take his leave. You stood in the doorway, watching your brother start his car and pull out of the driveway. You knew you had plenty more unresolved issues and a lot more to discuss, but for now, your chest felt lighter at the aspect of having your brother back in your life. You were a little sad that he had to leave so quickly, when you felt like you just got him back, but were hopeful you would see him soon. 

Seungcheol could feel your mood shift slightly, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind in a comforting back hug. You closed and locked the front door before turning around in his grasp. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his chest. You didn’t see it, but Seungcheol looked down at you in confusion.

“Why are you sorry, love?” He inquired, rubbing a hand up and down your spine.

“I’m sorry you had to sit here all night and listen to me cry,” you began, “I’m also sorry you had to meet my brother under these circumstances.”

“Don’t be sorry, YN. I’m so happy you were able to see Joshua again and talk about things. I know it can be hard to talk about these things, and I know it must be hard to let him back into your life so suddenly, but I know it will be helpful to you in the long run. I only want you to be happy, love.”

You look up at Seungcheol in complete awe. How was this man in love with you? A broken shell of a person, with her weights worth of baggage. What did you do to deserve him? The literal epitome of perfection. A walking green flag. 

“Don’t thank me,” Seungcheol lightly scolded, a smile on his face. “I can practically hear your thoughts right now.”

You scoffed, mock offended, putting your hands on his chest to playfully pull away. He wasn’t having it though, and pulled you back into him, rocking you both back and forth gently. “Oh no you don’t, you’re mine tonight,” you know he meant it in a playful way, but it did things to you that you didn’t want to admit to yourself right now, “I told you I wanted to lay with you properly and I’ve been waiting way too long to finally do that.”

“Let’s go to bed then,” you began, taking Seungcheol’s hand in your, walking down the hallway towards your bedroom. 

“Sounds like a great plan,” Seungcheol smiled, following after you obediently. 

-

After you and Seungcheol both got changed (Seungcheol having to run home to grab some things, and also grab a very unamused cat), you kneeled in the corner of your room playing with Bear, who lay in his cat bed that Seungcheol also brought over. 

Seungcheol was laying back on your pink sheets, arms crossed behind his head, watching you in amusement. “He really likes you, you know.”

You looked over your shoulder with a toothy smile on your face. Seungcheol very nearly melted into your mattress at the sight. “You think so?” Seungcheol nodded as you turned back around to face the fur ball in front of you. “Well, I really like him too,” you cooed at the cat in question as he arched his back into your pets. After you had your fill of cuddles, you slowly stood up from your crouching position, causing Bear to mewl.

Seungcheol let out a loud laugh from his spot on your bed. “Yeah, I would say he definitely likes you.”

You laughed along with Seungcheol while turning the lamp on your side table off. Seungcheol scooted over on the bed to make room for you, pulling the pink and white comforter back. You gladly took your spot on the bed, rolling on your side to face Seungcheol. To say you were nervous was a big understatement. “I’m gonna miss him when I go back to Busan,” you whispered sadly, only slightly teasing. 

“I’m glad my cat made such a big impact on you,” Seungcheol said dryly, deadpanning in your direction.

You giggled quietly and shushed him. “Of course I’m gonna miss you too, Seungcheol. I thought that was a given.”

“I mean, it’s still nice to hear,” he gently smiled down at you before draping one arm over your side, placing his warm hand on your lower back. He nudged your back a little, signaling you to move closer, to which you obliged. “You know, you don’t have to go back,” Seungcheol whispered, hopefully. 

“Cheollie, I have to,” Seungcheol smiled his brightest smile at the nickname making you stifle a laugh, “my job is there, I have an apartment there. I can’t just leave.”

“Is this cabin paid off?” Seungcheol asked abruptly, before you could continue making excuses.

“Yes…” you trailed off hesitantly. 

“Then you could break your lease in Busan, and move to the cabin. I know you love your job, but there is an animal shelter here. It’s where I got Bear from,” the cat meowed softly in the corner, making you smile again, “I could put in a good word for you.”

Seungcheol was so thoughtful. I definitely don’t deserve this man, you thought to yourself. Seungcheol chuckled and raised his hand to brush a strand of hair over your shoulder. “Did I just say that outloud?” You asked, mortified for Seungcheol’s answer.

He just nodded, still giggling. “YN, you deserve the world, and I will work every day to make sure you believe that.” 

Your cheeks were hot, but your heart was full at his words. This beautiful man in front of you wanted to give you the world, wanted to make sure you never wanted for more in your life. Who were you to turn down such an offer? What did you have to lose anyways? A shitty paycheck and an even shitter apartment. That’s what.

“Okay.” You state simply.

“Okay?” Seungcheol perked up, lifting his head a bit to stare at you. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight shining through your window that you could see the way his eyes lit up at your words. You smiled a bright smile at him, nodding your head aggressively. “Do you mean that?” Now he was sporting a smile to match your own.

“Yes, Seungcheol. I’ll do it. I want to do it. I’m ready.” You smiled, because you were. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken truer words. You were ready. Ready to put Busan behind you, ready to start a new life with Seungcheol, with Bear, and finally make a home out of this cabin that your parents left you. 

“I love you, YN,” Seungcheol said seriously, searching your eyes for any bit of hesitance, to which he found none, “I mean it, love.” He looked down to your pink lips, and back up at your eyes. 

Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling of butterflies suffocating your lungs was a good one for once. You nibbled on your bottom lip and exhaled shakily. Seungcheol grunted, a sound you realized you found incredibly sexy and wanted to commit to memory for a rainy day. He was staring at you intensely, silently asking for permission, which you granted with a quick nod of your head.

Seungcheol’s lips crashed onto yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. The flutter in your chest only increased as his soft, plump lips moved against yours. All you could feel, taste, smell, was Seungcheol. You inhaled his citrus-y scent, letting it surround you and he brought his free hand up to your burning cheek while his other caressed your side gently. He tasted better than you could have ever imagined, a little minty, and you were immediately hooked. His kiss was like the nicotine you craved from your cigarettes, maybe he was your new addiction. Your lips moved together synchronously for a few minutes before both of your lungs burned for oxygen and you reluctantly pulled away. 

Seungcheol held your face in his hands like fragile China, reveling in this moment here with you, your face illuminated by the moon shining through your window. He saw galaxies in your lust filled eyes, the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

Quickly, he dipped his head back down to capture your lips with his again. This time he moved a bit more frantically, hand moving from your cheek to your neck and down your shoulder and arm. He kissed you like it was giving him life, exploring your body with his large hands. 

You kissed Seungcheol back just as fervently, lips parting to allow his soft tongue to explore your mouth. It was hot, more teeth than tongue, both of you far too excited at the prospect of finally getting to kiss one another after days of build up. 

Parting from your lips slightly, Seungcheol pulled back to speak, “Is this ok? I do-don’t want to take things too fast…” he trailed off, pecking your lips sweetly a few times while he waited for your answer. 

You shook your head slightly, kissing him back, “It’s not too fast, Cheol. I want you.”

That was all your boyfriend needed to hear before he was pushing you gently onto your back and rolling over to hover just slightly above you. Gently, ever so gently, he leaned down to kiss you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and allowed his hands to explore under your sleep shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips when his warm hand grazed your breast, and Seungcheol took advantage of it to slip his tongue back into your mouth. 

Seungcheol gently caressed your breast in his hand, fingers flicking over your nipple every few seconds to make it peak. You soft breaths and noises emboldening him to dip down and nibble at your collarbones and throat. 

“Ch-Cheol,” you pant, getting lost in the sensation of his lips and hands all over you, “Please.”

“Please, what, love?” He murmured against your clavicle before pulling back and looking into your eyes again. “What is it, baby?” His voice was rough and it was turning you on even more. 

“Please touch me more, please,” You softly plead with him, arching your back into his touch when his hand trailed down your stomach, “please.”

Seungcheol smiled at you before pulling away a bit to pull your shirt up and over your head. As he tossed the fabric somewhere in your room he took a moment to admire your beautiful body in the moonlight shining through your window. “You’re so pretty, love.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, making you let out a soft whimper.

Your boyfriend chuckled at your reaction before dipping down to take one of your breasts into his warm mouth. Your hand flies up to his head, grasping the bleached strands as you arch into his touch. “Cheol!”

“Mm, let me hear you baby,” he grunts, pulling off you for a second before attacking your other breast with the same ministrations, his hand dipping lower to pull at your sleep shorts, making his intentions clear. You nod your head quickly, making him pull back again to look up at your blissed out face. “Is this ok?”

“Yes, yes, please, Cheol,” you all but moaned at this point, the thought of waiting any longer for the man above you to start touching you driving you insane. “Please, hurry, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol sat up on his knees, adjusting himself in his pajama pants, making you bite your lip to suppress a moan at just how big his bulge looked. He chuckled darkly at your reaction before grabbing onto your sleep shorts and removing them and your panties in one swift motion.

Once he tossed the shorts off to the side, he couldn’t help but admire your wet pussy on full display for him for the first time. You were completely bare beneath him and he was thanking every God he knew the name of in his head for allowing him this moment. You were absolutely breathtaking and he let you know just that. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, YN. I am so fucking lucky.”

Before you could respond, Seungcheol bent down and started kissing up your thighs until he reached the place you needed him most. Sighing in contentment, he placed a few sweet kisses to your mound before dipping his warm tongue between your folds. You both moan at the contact, you from the feeling of his wet tongue on your clit, and him from your taste. You tasted absolutely divine. He closed his eyes as he explored your folds with his tongue, lapping at your entrance before stiffening his tongue to play with your engorged clit. You were so turned on you couldn’t help the noises falling from your mouth. It was almost embarrassing how vocal you were being.

It’s been quite a while since you were in bed with anyone. In fact it’s been years. You had the wherewithal to let Seungcheol know that before you were completely lost in the pleasure of his mouth on your cunt.

“Cheol-Cheollie-” you panted out, tugging at his blonde locks to get him to look at you. “I- I haven’t been with anyone in… in a long time.” His eye soften a bit as he looks at you, intensely scanning your features for any kind of reluctance for what you two were doing. After finding none he places a few more kisses to your clit, making you moan softly, before hauling himself up and hovering over you. 

“We don’t have to go any farther tonight if you don’t want to. Just say the word. I’ll be happy to eat you out all night, make you cum on my face. Or we can stop here. You tell me what you’re comfortable with, love.” Seungcheol kisses your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him before pulling away, awaiting your answer.

“I - I want this, I want you. I’m just… nervous I guess?” You laugh lightly, trying to mask your shyness.

Seungcheol doesn’t allow it, smiling down at you and pecking your forehead, then your nose. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise, baby. Don’t be nervous. I’m not expecting anything, just let me make you feel good, please?”

How could you deny this man anything when he was so perfect to you?

You nod your head briefly before leaning up and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. It only lasts a moment before he’s breaking away and crawling back down your bed. 

“I’ll be gentle, ok?” Seungcheol says before diving back in and lapping at your wet folds. You moan at the feeling again, getting lost in the sensation of him basically making out with your pussy. Before you can lose youreself to the pleasure, Seungcheol brings a finger up to your entrance, tracing it lightly before dipping just the tip inside you, testing the waters. You moan out loudly at the sensation, hips bucking up slightly for more friction. He just chuckles against you before slipping his entire finger in, your warm walls clamping down on the intrusion. It’s been so long since you had something inside you, but the feeling was so intense, mixed with Seungcheol’s hot tongue on your clit, your orgasm washed over you suddenly before you could warn him.

Not that he needed the warning. He felt your body tense, so he kept his tongue right where it was, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. When you finally came down from it, he slipped his finger out, sticking it in his mouth as sucking your juices off it as he came back up to lay next to you.

As he did, Seungcheol trailed his hand back down your body, two fingers slipping inside you while you were still relaxed. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your hip, “Shh, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” You moan at his words as he slowly, gently starts pumping his fingers inside of you. The motion feels so good, your previous orgasm making for and easy slide in and out. 

“Cheol!�� You whine as his fingers curl and touch that spot inside you, making your toes curl.

“Mm, baby, that’s it. Just feel it, ok? Just relax.” His words were like a soothing balm, but you needed to anchor yourself, reaching out to grab hold of his shoulders. He takes it in stride, leaning slightly over you, his free hand still rubbing circles into your side as he stretches you out. 

“Cheol, Cheol, I’m gonna-” You pant out, not even able to finish your thought before your second orgasm is washing over you. Seungcheol just keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, his fingertips gently prodding your walls each time. He never falters in his movements, letting you come down from the high before you’re weakly pushing at his arm in sensitivity. “S-sensitive, Cheollie,” you mumble, making Seungcheol laugh quietly.

“I know, baby. You did so well for me.” He gently kisses your lips again, smiling against them. You look up at him when he pulls away with so much love in your eyes he nearly melts. “Feel good, love?” You nod, words escaping you from the pure ecstasy you feel in that moment. “Good.”

With one last kiss, Seungcheol makes a move to get up, but you stop him, tugging on his hand. He looks back at you with a furrowed brow, confusion written all over his face like he didn’t have a raging boner in his pants.

“I want you, Cheol. Please?” You ask him in a tiny voice. He looks at you for a moment, taking in your blissed out face, before starting to shake his head. The crestfallen look on your face has him stopping, though.

“I want you too, YN. I really, really do,” as if to prove a point he takes your hand and moves it to his crotch, letting you feel his hardness. “Trust me, baby. But you just got out of the hospital, are you sure you’re up for it?”

You think about it for a moment. Seungcheol is right, you did just get out of the hospital. You also have had a very emotional few days, weeks even. But you couldn’t deny how safe you felt in this moment with Seungcheol. Wasn’t sex just another way to feel closer to him? To solidify this bond that you two were building? Hell, you just agreed to quit your job and move here to be closer to him. You loved this man, more than you were willing to admit right now.

“Please. You’ll be gentle, right?” You whispered into the stillness of your childhood bedroom.

Seungcheol smiled sweetly at you with so much love in his eyes it made you want to cry. “Of course, YN,” he whispered back. “I’ll always be gentle with you, you mean the world to me.”

With that, Seungcheol leaned back down, shucking his shirt off in the process and pressing his warm chest to yours. No more words were shared as you lazily made out, both your guys’ hands exploring the others’ body. Slowly, you slipped Seungcheol’s pajama pants and boxer briefs off, letting them fall somewhere on the floor, and allowed your hands to explore even lower. 

Your hand found his length, slowly pumping him as he moaned into your mouth. He froze for a moment, forehead dropping to your collarbones as he sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m gonna cum quick if you do that.” You smiled, but slowed your ministrations, not wanting this to be over yet. He let out a shaky breath before looking down at you again, “Condoms?”

Your mind blanks for a second before shaking your head nervously. “I’m actually on birth control… and I haven’t been with anyone in over five years.” You said the last part quietly, almost embarrassed at your lack of experience. 

Seungcheol just smiled at you before kissing you slowly. When he pulled back he swallowed thickly before whispering, “I haven’t been with anyone in over three… please don’t worry, YN.”

Hearing him say that did actually soothe your worries a bit. It’s been a while since either of you had any practice in the bedroom, so maybe this didn’t have to be so scary. “Then…” you started, trailing off while looking into your boyfriend’s deep brown eyes, “we don’t need a condom.” Your whispered words made Seungcheol’s knees weak as he captured your lips with his again.

“Fuck, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last inside you,” he admitted bashfully, “where should I…?”

“Inside me. Please, Cheol, I want it. Want to feel close to you.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes as he sucked in another breath. “Fuck,” he said shakily, “I need to be inside you like right now.”

You chuckle and nod your head quickly, “Please.”

Seungcheol complies and grabs his length, stroking himself a few times before gathering your wetness on his tip. You both groan at the contact, your hips bucking up slightly, chasing the feeling. Without anymore words, Seungcheol pushes his tip against your entrance, slowly, so slowly, pushing in until he’s fully seated inside you, cock throbbing at the feeling of your tight walls.

“You’re so tight, baby. Does it hurt?” The genuine concern in his voice makes your heart flutter. You moan at the feeling of him adjusting himself on the bed. 

“N-no, not really. Just.. a lot. You-you’re big.” You moan again as he chuckles softly, the motion pushing his cock against your walls. 

“I’m not gonna move yet. Just get used to the feeling, ok baby?” You nod, eyes closing as you do just that. You focus on the feeling of his cock filling you up, your walls squeezing him slightly, making him groan each time. As you start to get used to the feeling of being full again, he slowly brings his fingers down to toy with your clit, your wetness making the slip feel heavenly.

Seungcheol is slowly, every so slowly, moving his fingertip over your puffy clit, distracting you from the pain of his cock splitting you open. It feels so good, and almost completely makes you forget about the pain. 

“Do you think you can come on my cock?” He asks quietly, fingers still moving slowly over you, “It might make it easier. I know it’ll feel good, love.” His face is right next to your ear and his low, raspy voice is bringing you close to the edge.

“Yes, yes, Cheol, please” you’re begging at this point, loving the feeling of his cock and his fingers bringing you to climax for the third time tonight.

“Let go, sweet girl, cum on my cock.” He whispers directly into your ear and that’s all you need to completely let go. Seungcheol keeps rubbing his fingers lightly over your clit as your body arches and convulses, clamping down on his dick, whispering soothing words into your ear until you finally come down from your high. Seungcheol pulls his fingers away to moment your orgasm slows, kissing you sweetly. “There you go, baby.” He’s starting to sound affected, like he is having a hard time holding back, so you circle your hips a bit to give him some much needed friction, making you both moan in pleasure. “Mm, baby, don’t do that.. I don’t know how much longer I can stay still.”

“Please move Cheollie,” you whisper, rolling your hips again, “fuck me.”

Seungcheol lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding before slowing pulling back until just his tip is inside you, before rolling his hips back down and sinking his length into you again. There are tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as he continues to fuck you in a steady rythym, hitting spots deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. 

“Fuck, fuck baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” Seungcheol moans into your ear, lips sucking and kissing you neck and shoulder as he fucks you. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby?”

“Yes, yes, Cheol!” You can’t help the sounds that are coming out of your mouth at this point, lost in the pleasure Seungcheol is bringing you.

Seungcheol’s hips stutter for a moment, stilling against you as he cums harder than he thinks he ever has in his life. He’s essentially been edging himself since you two started this almost an hour ago, and finally getting to cum in your tight pussy has him releasing everything he’s go into you. He thrusts his hips once, twice, three more times before stilling and letting the last of his seed spurt inside you.

You’re both panting and sweating at this point, but neither of you care, sharing wet kisses as you both come down from the intense highs. Once you’re both settled a bit, Seungcheol slowly pulls back, softening cock slipping from your entrance. He watches his cum drip out of you for a moment before bringing two fingers up to push it back inside you, accidentally brushing your sensitive clit in the process and making you jolt. 

“Shh, sorry, sorry baby. It’s just so fucking hot seeing you like this,” He mumbles, fingering you gently, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. When he finds none, and instead sees you close your eyes in pleasure again, he keeps going, slowly, gently, pumping two fingers inside you, searching for that spot again. You’re moaning lowly, getting lost in the feeling of his hot cum inside you, “You like that, baby?” He practically growls, watching his creamy cum be forced out of you as he massages his fingertips on your g-spot. 

You can’t form a coherent sentences, just moaning and writhing on the bed. Seungcheol continues to abuse your walls until you cum for the fourth time tonight, mouth open in a silent scream as he watches you lose yourself to the pleasure. As you slowly come down, he pulls his finger from you finally, grabbing his discarded pants to wipe his hand on.

“You ok, love?” He asked quietly as you slowly come back to yourself. 

“Yes, yeah. I’m good.” You pant out, making Seungcheol smile to himself.

“Let me grab something to clean you up, ok?” You nod as he leaves the bedroom, only to come back a few moments later with a warm wash cloth. He slowly and gently cleans you up, making sure to avoid your swollen clit this time. When he’s done he places a gentle kiss to your folds, making you giggle. 

“YN,” he says quietly when he finally climbs back up the bed, pulling you into his strong arms.

You look up at him, humming in confirmation for him to continue. Your sleepy eyes starting to close as you stare at him.

“Thank you, YN,” Seungcheol whispered breathlessly, mere centimeters from your lips.

“For what?” You asked, just as breathless.

“For giving me one more day.”

a/n: if you made it to the end, thank you thank you thank you for reading my fic, it means so much to me. pls reblog, comment, and like if you enjoyed reading and let me know what you would like to see next. i enjoy writing, but seeing how much YOU enjoy it is an even better feeling!

copyright aliendes 2024

[brittle-doughie]

Imagine steadily sneaking out of Dark Cacao's Palace, a flourbag load of pure unadulterated determination keeping your legs sturdy. Painstakingly heading for Beast-Yeast yourself to personally confront Mystic Flour Cookie, finally face-to-face.

First, your dreams. These crestfallen memories; these should not be yours, but yet they use your crust, copied down to how it crackles and crumbles. They walk with your legs and use your voice, and not meekly. Your little colorful buttons and creme filling. Through the eternal eyes of another wearing your broken face, a heavy shade of grief insisting a strong quake through your hands and feet, reflected in a broken mirror of indestructible forks and magic. None of this has ever happened to you, all your friends were alive and running free at the center of Gingerbrave's Kingdom.

Yet the firm echo at the crack of your mind reclaims; it indeed, had.

Second, that encounter and furiously attempted Soul Jam corruption with Shadow Milk Cookie, the dark jester of silken half-truths and rusty riddles; who's immortal darkness swallowed your common sense, that shadow with countless steep blue moon slits never dulled once under the unmoving gaze of the Sun.

But now, this sudden interest-an unpardoned heart from the literal pristine white embodiment of weightless apathy and sincerity?

These situations were too specific, familiar, and suffocatingly personal for mere coincidence.

The Beasts regurd you with an infectious stench of deep nostalgia, their eyes flash an infernal fire of thought, the kind one feels upon shaking hands with an old friend. The one that crawls like a bug, wiggles like a maggot. Growing the sprout of an itch, at an open chip of dry frosting the back of your head. A push, a pull, an annoying yet strong temptation of confrontation; of an acceptance, remembrances. Like they've known you since the very first crumb fell off the Witches' baking pan.

You spent this baked life depending on the protection and care of your beloved friends, but if that interferes with the truth you seek, you will risk falling apart into flour for finally having the chance to confront one of these gods about who you used to be.

Shadow Milk was serious when he countered you into an edge of existential dread. He was a frantic for the dramatics. Even for the most serious of cataclysmic events, he danced around the subject of your connection, hoping to unveil the mystery into stellar applause. That was the plan it seemed at leaat until Pure Vanilla threw a stake into his encore.

Cut through the answers.

With a mountain of luck and enough certainty, perhaps Mystic Flour Cookie will spare you doubts.

After all, even a being like her will neigh overlook such an opportunity; the chance of finally re-welcoming you, where she and the rest of her comrades know you rightfully belong.

She actually feels compelled to thank the merger weak Cookie's influence upon your new body, their mortal stupidity and curious self-preservation was an endless plague all within its very self, almost enough for her to forgive them for slowly erasing the dear memory of your once-divine mark upon these waning lands and lesser soils.

Almost.

(Sorry I have thoughts and lots of then, I hope I ain't bothering you.)

Nah, it’s all good. This was a pretty interesting read!

From what my brain of mush can put together, Y/N was a former Primordial Cookie before being reincarnated into a regular Cookie at some point, you were having dreams of this past life at first to the lead up to the search for White Lily Cookie.

The Shadow Milk fight would be the first time you started questioning on who you really were, but Pure Vanilla/White Lily Cookie pushed him back before you could get answers.

Your reputation seemed to be revered amongst the Beasts, as such with Mystic Flour Cookie. As stated, she could almost forgive the transgressions of having your memory altered, making you forget how you left your mark in these lands. You needed to remember who your allegiances should really go to, to remember who your real comrades were.

You were getting answers from Mystic Flour, in one way or another.

[sunseed-fandump]

Gingerbrave & Friends Headcanons I Spin Around in my Head like a Microwave

Strawberry Cookie always wears her hair in a braid that's tucked in her hood. Her hair is really long (the idea of scissors being near her head makes her anxious).

Wizard Cookie used to braid her hair for her every day and he eventually taught her how to do it herself. He will still braid it for her if she asks.

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie are the only ones who have seen Strawberry Cookie with her hood down.

Custard Cookie III likes to call Chili Pepper Cookie his "Bodyguard". His friends are usually called his "subjects" so he essentially promoted her by giving her a special title. (He thinks she's really cool.)

He also calls Strawberry a "Knight", Wizard the "Court Magician", and Gingerbrave his "Advisor". Everyone has just kind of gotten used to these nicknames.

If Custard Cookie III doesn't like someone, he will call them by their full name. It SOUNDS polite enough, but if he doesn't consider someone to be one of his subjects, that means he doesn't want them in his kingdom. And by extension he doesn't want to hang out with them.

Custard Cookie III likes riding on people's shoulders. He likes to feel tall.

Wizard also likes being tall, but he thinks being picked up is embarrassing, so he sticks to levitation spells.

Since Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie were baked by a Witch, they're actually a lot stronger than normal Cookie children. Strawberry's unnatural strength, Wizard's magical skills, and Gingerbrave's unwavering courage are proof of this.

As adults, the three of them are going to be VERY formidable because of this.

Chili Pepper Cookie runs warmer than most cookies. The children take advantage of this. She has been trapped under many a cuddle pile. (She thinks its sweet. But she has a reputation to uphold, so she puts on a fake pout.)

Wizard has been tutoring Custard Cookie III when they both have free time.

Chili Pepper cried (in private) when one of the kids gave her a gift for the first time.

Strawberry Cookie, Gingerbrave, and Wizard Cookie aren't exactly sure when their birthdays are. (Escaping took priority over keeping track of exact dates.) So they picked the day they escaped from the Witch as their collective birthday.

Custard's father is alive, but in hiding. He has been keeping track of events from the shadows. He misses his son, but glad that he at least has reliable friends taking care of him.

Chili Pepper Cookie can curse in multiple languages.

Gingerbrave would actually be a really skilled swordsman. He's just really attached to his candy cane.

[gingerteafairy]

Pets, First Kisses and Small Town-Shenanigans (young!Jensen Ackles x reader) final

“You’re always going to steal my kisses, aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the kiss, your voice soft, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Jensen’s eyes twinkle with that same playful light. “You bet I will. And you’re going to love it.”

tags: relationship, softdom!jensen, praisekink, bad language, softdom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare, happy jensen is my roman empire words: 4.5k ←previous chapter

It had been three weeks of effortless moments with Jensen—afternoons filled with laughter, baking disasters, and long, peaceful walks by the lake. Some days, you’d bake together in the kitchen—flour flying everywhere, both of you sneaking spoonfuls of batter when no one was looking. Other days, you’d take quiet walks by the lake, stopping to admire the cute animals in the pet shop—Max being the absolute cutest, of course. Jensen even got along with Miss Pumpkin, which, admittedly, made you a little jealous since she was never that polite with you. You never wanted that summer to end.

But today, as you sat alone on the couch in his cozy living room, everything felt… different. You were both tired from a long walk with Max (and Miss Pumpkin, of course, showing off her cute pink collar). Your feet were tucked under a soft blanket, your fingers interlaced with his. You could feel his gaze on you, warm and full of that familiar grin.

“So, uh…” Jensen started, shifting so he was fully facing you. “I was thinking... we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “You mean, you’ve been showing up at my house every day and stealing all my cookies? Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the arm of the couch with a dramatic sigh. “I mean, yes, but also... I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I think we’ve kinda... clicked.”

You smirked, rolling your eyes. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed at all, considering the constant laughing, baking, and not-so-subtle hand-holding between pecks.”

He placed a hand over his heart in mock shock. “Wait, you mean you’ve noticed that I’m madly in love with you? Oh no, my secret’s out.”

You laughed and nudged him with your elbow. “Madly in love, huh? How cliché. You really know how to lay on the charm, don’t you?”

Jensen leaned in a little closer, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “I mean, I was going to say something cheesy, but hey, you’re right, I’ve already proven how much I like you by bringing you baked goods every day.”

“Hmm, well, that’s definitely a good start,” you teased, but the way his eyes softened made your teasing slow down.

He took a deep breath, his tone shifting from playful to a little more serious, but still lighthearted. “So... I’ve been thinking… What if we made this official?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Official? Like… we put a label on this? Like ‘baking partners for life’?”

Jensen grinned wider, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I was thinking more like… ‘boyfriend and girlfriend,’ but sure, ‘baking partners for life’ works too.”

You burst out laughing. “So, you’re asking me to be your girlfriend while we’re sitting on your couch, surrounded by crumbs and half-eaten cupcakes?”

Jensen shrugged, feigning indifference. “I mean, if that’s what it takes. I’m not picky about the setting, just about the person.”

You stared at him, that goofy grin of his making it impossible to take him too seriously for long. But then you realized—this was exactly how it was supposed to feel. Comfortable. Fun. Home.

You leaned in a little, your lips curling into a smile. “Well, I guess since you’ve already won me over with your baking skills and bad jokes… yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Jensen’s face lit up, and before you knew it, he scooped you into a hug, lifting you off the couch like you weighed nothing. “Yes! I’m the luckiest guy alive!” he shouted, spinning you around in a celebratory dance. You laughed, clinging to him as he twirled you in circles.

When he finally set you back down, he leaned in and planted a quick peck on your lips. “Best. Decision. Ever.”

You giggled, pushing him away playfully. “Okay, okay. I get it, you’re excited. But I expect cupcakes and extra frosting every week now.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Deal. But only if you promise to laugh at all my bad jokes forever.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Always and forever, Jensen.”

For a moment, Jensen simply stared at you, his expression softening into something more tender, more vulnerable. He leaned in, the sound of the couch creaking slightly as he moved closer. Your heart fluttered, nerves suddenly twisting in your stomach. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself.

“God, don’t look at me with those eyes,” he murmured, his voice strained with a laugh. “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to say anything.”

“What eyes?” you asked, biting your lip, unable to suppress a grin despite the flutter in your chest.

Jensen lowered his head, gathering himself for a moment. But then, in a move that completely took you by surprise, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It was brief, but enough to send a wave of warmth through you.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting gently against yours. There was a small, breathless pause before he spoke again, a shy chuckle escaping his lips. “I was going to say something all romantic and profound, but you just had to look at me with those pretty eyes. I got distracted.”

You blinked, heart racing, unsure if you were supposed to laugh or just melt at his words. The closeness between you felt suddenly heavier, his breath warm against your skin, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, wide-eyed.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, a little breathless.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied softly, his voice light but with something more vulnerable beneath it. His thumb brushed lightly over your hand, making your heart skip a beat. “But maybe I can be ridiculous for you, cupcake.”

The words lingered between you, simple yet somehow so meaningful. Jensen’s gaze softened even more, and for the first time, you realized how much you wanted to close the distance between you even further.

“Hey, come on. I wanna show you something.” Jensen stood up, and you followed him as he led you to his room. His space was cozy and cluttered with rock band posters, a bookshelf filled with videogames and vinyl records, and papers scattered on his desk beneath a graduation picture with his friends.

A red guitar hanging on the wall caught your eye. “You’re going to sing cheesy love songs for me?” you teased, running your fingertips along the instrument.

Jensen wasn’t looking at you now, his gaze focused on something on the shelf, but his fingers tapped nervously against the wood, betraying how important this moment was to him. “You won’t hear my amazing voice today. I want to show you something else.” 

He pulled a little worn-out box from a drawer, hidden under a soft white blanket. Jensen opened it, and your eyes widened in surprise. It was the Pinkie Pie doll you’d lost as a child—the one that boy stolen from you!

“Oh my god, how—”

“Before I explain, you gotta know, I was a really misbehaved kid and didn't wanted to scare you with this thing I kept for all these years,” he began, his voice playful. 

“Don’t tell me you punched the poor kid, Jensen,” you replied, half-shocked, half-grinning.

“My mom confiscated my Nintendo for three months after the kid’s black eye,” he confessed with a laugh, placing the now-found Pinkie Pie doll in your hand. “What? I’m a brave man. I couldn’t sleep knowing someone made a girl cry. So I punched him and said hey, boy. Never make a girl cry, you hear me?”

You smiled, heart warmed by the sweet, silly gesture. “Wow, I missed this doll. Thanks, my charming knight. You defended me from the awful monster.” You mockingly placed a hand on your forehead, pretending to faint.

“My duty, but princess. Won’t you give me my reward?” he asked, looking up at you with an adorable, childish grin.

“Yeah, anything for my favorite knight.” You giggled, but were quickly interrupted by a sudden, soft kiss on your lips.

All you could do was stare at him, emotions a whirlwind of disbelief and warmth. He simply smiled, pulling back with a wink. “Got my reward.”

Your cheeks went bright red, and you awkwardly chuckled, unable to do anything else as the world around you seemed to fade into the background. You could feel the space between you narrowing, and then—another kiss, this one sweet and lingering.

“It wasn’t a very knightly thing to do, you know,” you teased, coy. “Stealing a kiss from the king’s daughter. You’re under arrest now. Five years, no negotiation.”

“So what? I kissed the high hierarchy,” he shot back, charming as ever, holding your waist and pulling you closer.

“Oh, so you’re proud of your achievement?” you replied, voice dripping with sweetness. “I should give you ten years for your bad behavior.”

“Uhm… Guess I’ll just have to steal more kisses to deserve my detention,” he whispered, his voice velvety, before kissing you gently again, sweet as vanilla cupcakes.

“You’re always going to steal my kisses, aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the kiss, your voice soft, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jensen’s eyes twinkle with that same playful light. “You bet I will. And you’re going to love it.”

You chuckle, standing tiptoes to kiss his forehead. “You bet I will.”

And then he kissed again and again, pulling back for a moment, flashing that grin of his. “You taste like cupcakes, cupcake,” he whispered, looking at your lips before capturing them again.

He broke the kiss, placing a soft one on your temple, then pecking you a dozen more times, making you giggle as your face rested in his hand. “Ten years of kisses. Permission to leave the dungeon?”

You giggled, kissing the palm of his hand. “Permission granted.”

He laughed, leaning in for another kiss, this one more passionate, his body pressing against yours, making your heart race. You felt the heat of the moment rise, warming places that shouldn't be warmed up, and before you knew it, he’d deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips. You pulled back with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Sorry about that,” he said, concern flickering across his face. “We can take it slow.”

“No, it’s... I-I never... you know,” you stammered, trying to avoid his gaze. “Tongue kisses and... hanky panky.”

“Hanky panky? Are you fifty years old?” Jensen teased, chuckling.

“Stoooop! I’m nervous,” you cooed, tugging at his collar.

“Okay, okay. But, no pressure, I promise. I'll control my nerves.” He reassured you, his voice soft. And that was the thing about Jensen. He made you feel safe, no matter how nervous or unsure you were. You could trust him with your eyes closed, in the middle of any storm. “Let's do another thing, shall we?”

You looked up at him, tenderness in your gaze. “No, Jensen. I... you don’t think my kissing is weird?”

“Pfft. Is this a serious question?” Jensen blurted, but then softened when he saw your insecurity. He cupped your face gently, squeezing it. “Hey, you’re literally a top-tier kisser, I get all worked up with your kisses.”

“You can’t be serious,” you replied, leaning into his hand with a sad smile.

“I’m serious,” he whispered, his voice full of affection, as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I didn't want to have to say this, but bro, the little guy down here never lies.” He confessed heartily, giggling with your surprised expression at the tent in his jeans.  

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” you say, laughing as Jensen pulls you in for yet another kiss, his lips warm and gentle against yours.

He pulls back with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don't pretend you don't know how sexy and amazing you are.” He winks, his hand still resting lightly on your waist.

You shake your head in mock disbelief, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re incorrigible. I can’t even get a second to breathe without you swooping in for another kiss.”

“I mean,” Jensen shrugs dramatically, “who could blame me? You’ve got this amazing smile, smoking hot body, pause for your tits, because daaamn, and your eyes… I just get lost in them every time.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking, Mr. Smooth.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I’m not just smooth, y'know. I’m a man of deep emotions. I’ve been feeling all these things, plus I love you.”

His words leave you breathless, and for a moment, you just look at him—really look at him—taking in the sincerity in his eyes. The playful teasing, the jokes, and the laughs—it was all real. But so was this. The feeling between you both, warm and full of promise, was undeniable.

“I love you, Jensen. A lot,” you whisper, a small smile breaking out on your face. “And you can kiss me more, you know…practice.”

He laughs, the sound light and carefree, as he leans back just slightly, his hand still holding yours. “I guess we’ll just have to keep testing it out, huh?”

“Guess so,” you say with a smirk, but you both know you’re already lost in each other. There’s no need for testing anymore.

Jensen’s expression lights up, his hand lifting to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I’m glad to hear that. Because, honestly, I don’t think I could stop even if I tried, things are getting a little tight down here.”

“Then, don’t stop.” Your heart races as he moves closer again, but this time, the kiss feels different—deeper, more meaningful. The first touch of his lips was soft, tentative, like he was testing the waters, afraid to overstep. But the warmth of his mouth against yours sent a shiver through you, and you deepened the kiss, pulling him closer.

He responded immediately, his hands finding his way to the small of your back, pulling you in with a tenderness that made your heart ache. The kiss wasn’t rushed, but full of a quiet, burning intensity. His lips moved gently, coaxing yours open, his tongue brushing slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. 

Obeying an instinct you didn't know you possessed, you tilt your head to deep the kiss, tangling his blond short locks in your fingers as squeezes your waist beneath your shirt before dropping you delicately on his bed. You get yourself comfortable on his comforter as he crawls overtop of you, his lips torturing your bottom lips with sweet nippings. He peels off the pretty baby doll white shirt from you, grinning when he sees the flesh cupped by a simple white bra. 

“You know, we can always stop before you get all whiny and purring like a sly kitten.” he teases in a grin, taking all the loose strands out of your face with a caring only he could give in this type of moment. 

“oh, you do think you're able to make me whine and purr, big dog?” you teased back, biting your lip between a chuckle.  

“You're always so needy, wouldn't be surprised if you cry out ohh jensen don't stop pleaaaase in my ear.” He chuckles, nipping your ear lobe. 

“Oh, like. Oh my god, Jensen, baby I can't take I want you so baaaad.” you fence a panted, exaggerated simulated orgasm, grinning when he laughed and kissed your cheek.

“Yeah, keep laughing. You'll end up all shy and cute at the end without this little panties of yours.” He softened his voice as he met your lips in a kiss, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue poked gently in yours. He pulled back, pressing his lips to your cheek in a soft peck. 

His lips and teeth nipped at your shoulder, your collarbones, leaving small bruises and imprints of his teeth on your skin as he unclipped your bra, widening his eyes at your chest.

“Try not to look so impressed, Jensen. Looks like you’ve never seen boobs in your life.” You chuckled, but you couldn't deny how happy you were by his delighted eyes. 

“It 's just… I've never seen better boobs in my whole life. Damn, it's perfect. C’mere my girls.” he replied before kissing the whole extension of your soft skin, cupping your breasts just to squeeze them under his palms, smiling in your nipple when you purr under him. 

“God, I need to feel it skin-to-skin.” He groans before grabbing the hem of his navy blue tank top, passing through his head, causing a strangely amusing mess on his hair, til you fix your eyes on his abdomen with a smirk. 

“Oh, come on. Six pack? Seriously?” You tease as you weren't overwhelmed by his beauty, fixed on his happy trail. His hands worked up to strip from those now tight jeans, offering you a good view of his white boxers clothed in precum.

“Don't pretend you aren't all soaked behind these panties, lady.” he smirks before softly slapping your covered spot, rewarded by your shocked moan, crashing into your lips again. “You're dying to feel all this inside you.”

He gives your ass a little squeeze before unzipping your skirt to make the same way of his jeans, tossed on the floor. So he could see that the kissing trail was getting too warm up by judging on the patch of your pink panties with cute flowers on it, wait-

“Shit.” You curse, covering your panties with your both hands.

“What?” He shook his head confused, trying to not catch your tits with his tongue.

“I came with the least sexy panties ever, oh my god kill me now.” You cry out with your face all red, twisting when you see him belly laugh.

“You know nothing, don't you?” Jensen took your hands of your cute panties, smiling at your confused face. “It 's panties. They’re exciting just for being what they are. Take the privilege.”

You smile, safe with him. He pulls you in a more desperate kiss, his fingers hooked your pink panties, dragging them down your legs, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. 

“I said. Soooaked.” He sing-songs, biting your bottom lip before inserting one finger easily inside, earning a tiny scream of surprise from you. “Is it good?” 

“Yes.” You replied licking your lips, wrapping your arms in his neck to get a sloppy kiss while you get stimulated. 

“Fuck sake, I need to eat you, can I do it, please?” he breathed, grinning as a child due the positive nod of yours. 

He took his finger out of you, licking to save your taste before getting his head down on the mattress to face your needy cunt. Too eager to tease you, his face went down to lick and suck your clit like the finest meal. You arch your back with the soft touch, covering your mouth to silence your whines and moans while he draws eights in your folds deliciously, your walls pulsating and clenching. 

“No, let your moans out, please~ I wanna hear them” He begs in a pout, kissing your clit. 

“Jensen, what if the neighbors listen? I'm gonna die if they say something to your mom.” You insist, but he cuts you off with a long lick with a hard tongue. “JENSEN”

“Let 'em hear it. At least they know how much I please you.” So he comes back again to your folds.

Then you sense the sweet sensation down your spot. As he reads you like a glass, he fastens his tongue movements inserting one finger in your unexplored hole, spreading your legs that insist to close as your climax gets closer. “Jensen, Jensen. I'm gonna cum, cum.”

“Cum in my tongue, babe. Fuck. You're so delicious, cum in me babe, can you do it f' me?” He praised before adding pressure to his tongue in your abused clit, receiving all of your liquid in a scream of yours. 

Jensen stood up all happy, taking the excess of liquid from his face to his hand, not to get clean, but to lick it, not wasting any drop. “You're so delicious, my cupcake. I wanna feel you inside, can I?”

“Yes, please.” You panted from the last orgasm, but you felt the urge for more. For him. 

“Hmmm, I'm going crazy, you're so good for me.” He groaned, wrapping a hand on his veiny cock, placing his tip on your entrance. “Ready?”

Before you could respond, he suddenly pushed into your pussy with resistance, splitting you in two with thickness. His length stretched you out, causing you to let out a choked mewl as he let out a low groan. “Christ. You're tight.”   

You look up to him with a single tear in your right eye from the pain, til you find his eyebrows slightly furrowing in a little painful look, ripping a chuckle from you. “God, you look as hurted as me.” 

“You and your tight pussy, god. I'm gonna be ripped.” he groaned back, finally getting full inside. 

“Ugh, as you're the one getting… ripped here.” You shot back with a smirk, smiling when his thumb brushed your cheek to wipe the small tear. 

“Alright, alright.” he breathed again, adjusting to the tiny walls. “I’m moving, okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You conceded, smiling when he interlaced his fingers with yours to start his movement, slow enough to get you used to his size, quickly feeling a wave of pleasure in his old-added rhythm thrusts “Hmm… this is… good.”

“You're taking so well, sugar.” He added in pant, resting his face in the crook of your neck to nip while you moan side his ear, interlacing strongly your fingers with his. “Fuck, this is too good. Can I go faster, babe?”

“Please, Jensen. I fuuuck harder, please” you whine, when he releases your hands to squeeze your ass, fastening his hips, groaning when you scratch your nails in his back. 

“Uhmm… you’re so wet, you hear it?” he whines in your ear, and then you notice the squelching sounds, dripping in his cock while he stretches your walls just for him. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Jensen, fuck me, baby mooore” you moan his name even louder when he hits your g-spot in a powerful thrust. “Right there, oh my god” 

“Yeah, babe. Keep moaning my name, I'm gonna fucking come in your pussy, you let me do it? You let me fill her in?” he babbles, rocking his pelvis harder to the point his balls clap in your ass, filling the room with slapping sounds, moans and pants. 

“Uh-huh. Cum inside me pleaaaase.” you roll your eyes back on your head when you feel your climax growing again with his thrusts, head empty, dumb. He fucked you dumb for your first time and it had he crazy for searching his own pleasure. 

“You're so god quiet, sugar. Cat got your fuck tongue? Don't have a little tease for me? You and your smart tongue? God I'm going to fucking cum here” He teases between moans as he watches you babble in his cock, trembling your legs to release all the pleasure in his cock. 

“Jensen, stop. It 's too much.” You cry out in overstimulation, contorcionating under him like a possessed woman from the movies, biting his shoulder.  

“Hang on, babe. Take me a little more, huh? I'm filing your little pussy right away” he groans, nipping your earlobe, planting a smack in your ass as he spills his hot thick cum inside you.

He thrusts til the strands get to an end, taking his softened dick from your cunt. Jensen rests his head a little longer, wrapping his arms in your waist in a big comfortable hug. Jensen pecks your face a thousand times, his signature gesture of when he's truly happy with you. You purr again, ruffling his hair and pecking his nose tip. 

“I told you you're going to purr under me after.” He remembered you with a grin, biting your lip. 

“Fine. You won this one, Ackles. Next time you are going to whine like a baby under me.” You guaranteed a warmful look, couldn't hide the happiness of being closer to him in a more meaningful way.

“Hmm, is there going to be one next time? I'm anxious.” he smirks, squeezing your boobs. 

“Yeah, I'm your girlfriend, remember? There's always going to be a next time.” 

“Oh, you liked it that much? You're so naughty, cupcake. I thought you were better” he teased fencing with a shocked look. 

“God, you're so ridiculous.” you laugh, taking his head in your hands to give another passionate kiss on him.

“And I love you.” He confessed, pecking your lips, hands in your hair to get off the little mess he made. 

“I love you too.” 

You two stayed a little while naked on the bed, but he obviously took a blanket to cover you up from the cold, he just didn't want to be apart of your naked goddess-like figure, his words only. You ruffled his beautiful blonde hair with your fingers, kissing the top of his head as he rested in your boobs, saying it was his favorite place.

Then, you lifted your head, seeing a familiar figure. Max sat on the floor in front of the door with his collarbone on his mouth. 

“Jensen. I think your dog opened the locked door.” You warned and he lazily lifted his head, directioning to the door. 

“I didn't lock it, that's how he got in. He knows how to get the handle, that dog is so weird.” he pouted, pecking your bare chest again, before getting up to search for his boxers. 

“Well, at least he didn't jump on me again.” You joked, stretching on the bed. He stops to watch your body while you release the tension, feeling his blood flow down again. 

“Yeah, so I'm gonna jump on you to compensate, okay?” he replied, bending to catch his boxers and shirt again with Max barking in the background.

“Deal.” You smiled, feeling his lips against yours again. 

“Don't get dressed. I'm giving this buddy a meal and I come back in a flash, okay?” He guaranteed, going out of the room with Max following him with a happy bark. 

In that moment, you felt happy, like a dream. All your moments togheter were like movie in your head, but your nostalgia trip was interrupted by an eager Jensen entering the room already striping, getting tucked in the sheets with you. 

“You look like your dog, have I ever said that?” You called, watching him sneaking inside the blankets to stop in your tits again. “You jump on me and you're so happy all the time, it's so cute.’

“No, but I could say you look like Miss Pumpkins too. You're grumpy, but needy when you open.” He completed kissing your lips. “Kitty wants some milk now?”

“Fuck, Jensen. You just trespassed the limits of ridiculousness now.” You laughed, throwing your head on the mattress.

“Ok, it was cheesy. But… like… you want it?” He asked with puppy eyes. 

“Only if you agree to take a warm shower after this. Sit and I'll figure out how I do it, deal?”

He grins and sits down, patting his side of the bed “Deal.” 

[peach-top]

❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT O. | FINAL

➤ FAREWELL DARK CACAO KINGDOM

“Ah? A letter from Dark Cacao Cookie?” the pure blonde questioned as the blue bird arrived with a letter.

The pure blonde gently grabs the letter and reads it. He perked up.

“....Who's…Dark Cacao Cookie…?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Your majesty, you have a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Smoked Cheese Cookie announced while holding a letter.

“Oh? That's rich coming from someone who's always so grumpy!” Golden Cheese Cookie chuckled. “Read it for me!”

Smoked Cheese Cookie huffed then read the letter out loud. While through the letter, the general was interested, but also unsavory by the idea about the wanderer. Golden Cheese Cookie was interested upon hearing what's going on at the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

“Oh? A wanderer who ends the madness of those beasts that attacked the kingdom? Most of all, since when did that gloomy king become so soft?” Golden Cheese Cookie questioned. She then murmured, “...Hm…Should I trust him into my kingdom…?”

Smoked Cheese Cookie overheard her words, “A wanderer…there's something about him…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Oh-ho! A letter from my dear friend! I didn't know he missed me that much!” unnamed huntress laughed.

The unnamed huntress opened the letter. The female read through the letter from top to bottom and she couldn't help but burst out laughing upon reading it, “HAHAHAHAHA! It looks like Dark Cacao Cookie grew soft for this wanderer! I would like to see him for myself!”

“But unfortunately…I'm not in the kingdom at the time being…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Elder Faerie Cookie, it's a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Silverbell Cookie called out to the guardian. “It was given to White Lily Cookie, but— Would you like to read it?”

“...?” Elder Faerie Cookie was going to hesitate but took the letter anyway. The elder faerie opened the letter and read them. His eyes widened with interest. The wanderer known as [Y] is someone that Millennial Tree has mentioned to him.

“Impossible…You mean…?” Elder Faerie Cookie gasped. Millennial Tree nodded, “I was surprised that it worked. I was able to give him the life stone to keep him alive.”

“But why? What if he remembers it all and destroy—”

“No worry, Elder Faerie Cookie. He won't be able to return back to the past. Besides…he’s the one who ended himself.” The spirit of the forest stated. The faerie’s eyes widened, “You mean to tell me that the lord ended himself? But why?!?”

“That's just a theory. I theorized that something inside him wished to end it all. He…was just a different cookie before being corrupted…” Millennial Tree frowned.

“...How did you know about that?” Elder Faerie raised his eyebrows. “Not many cookies knew how he was made nor knew if he was a different cookie. You weren't made when he was baked.”

Millennial Tree sighed, nervously fiddling his fingers, “...Will you believe me if I say that I've seen the one who created him was in my dream?”

“...!” Elder Faerie was taken back by this. He knows Millennial Tree wouldn't lie which is impossible not to believe him. “...Can't say that I don't…”

“The creator is someone I'm worrying about. They sometimes appear in my dreams, threatening me to hand him to them.” Millennial Tree furrowed his eyebrows. “But I will not allow that even if it risks my life. [Y] must live on with his new life as someone new. I cannot let him feel guilty of those sins he caused. He has the right to be happy and a second chance at life. Just trust me on this, Elder Faerie Cookie.”

“...If I were to meet this [Y], I'll see what he's capable of…” Elder Faerie sighed.

“This is him. The one who Millennial Tree Cookie was talking about…” Elder Faerie thought. He then turned to Silverbell Cookie, “Silverbell Cookie, here's someone I would like for you to trust once they arrive in the kingdom.”

“Huh?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

The next day, it's time for [Y] to leave. Most of the people really don't want him to leave because they admire him a lot. They give him gifts and souvenirs to show their gratitude.

“It's a shame to see you go, Sir [Y]...” One of the warriors frowned.

“Yeah. Without your help, we would've been done for…” another warrior said.

“I don't want to go either, but there's still more places to explore. I would like to know more about the outside world.” [Y] smiled. “Don't worry, I will return if you ever need my help. Just send me a letter. I have animal friends who can help you send the letters.”

“We won't forget your heroic act in saving the kingdom. We will honor you.” Caramel Arrow Cookie genuinely smiles at the taller male.

“Thanks, Caramel Arrow Cookie. I'm sure you're even more heroic than I am. It's a great choice to have you as the first watcher.”

“Remember, I've given you one of my specialties. The smell will follow wherever you go so you can think of me.” Affogato Cookie chuckled. The first watcher huffed, “Hope you're not poisoning him.”

“Why would I poison such a pure soul?” The priest glared at the female. “I'm only giving him something as a gift. I adore him after all.”

“Thank you, Affogato Cookie. I won't forget you or that ice cream coffee. It's one of the best ones I've ever tasted.” [Y] beamed.

“...!” Affogato Cookie blushed then looked away while fiddling with his staff, “A…ah. Don't worry, when you return, I'll make you more. I've left you a recipe in case you need it!”

“I'll be sure to remember.” The taller male nodded.

Crunchy Chip Cookie pushed Affogato Cookie aside, “Hey! We haven't finished our training yet! You promise that you'll teach me how to communicate with dragons!”

“Oh, right. We can continue when I return. Licorice Dragon would like to communicate with you while I'm gone. You'll be able to understand.” [Y] said then handed the short male a handmade whistle. “Since she's an ally, you just have to blow the whistle if you need anything. I entrust you to take care of her and her babies.”

Crunchy Chip Cookie saluted, “I vowed to protect the Licorice Dragons and the kingdom! If anything happens to them, I won't forgive anyone who harms them!”

“That the beast tamer for you.” [Y] chuckled, patting the male on the head, much to his please.

Dark Cacao cleared his throat to grab [Y]’s attention, “We thank you for protecting our kingdom, [Y]. We'll be looking forward to your next visit.”

“My pleasure. It was nice to be here. I was able to learn so much about this kingdom and meet new people. Thank you for having me here.” [Y] grinned.

Dark Cacao was a little taken back, but softly smiled, “I'm glad we were able to give you fond memories. You are free to enter the kingdom even if it's set. There's no need to wait for anyone to open the gate. They just open it for you.”

“I will remember. Thank you.”

“...” Dark Cacao Cookie wanted to give him one last gift, but he's not sure if he was prepared for it. However, he can't let [Y] leave with a gift from him. He remembers what he told himself:

ACTION SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS.

“Well…bye. See you all again.” [Y] waved. The others excluding the ruler wave back to him as he is about to leave. Before he could leave, Dark Cacao grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him in a kiss, shocking everyone around him.

“M-my liege?!” the second watcher gawked.

The raven haired ruler pulled away and left without a word, leaving everyone flabbergasted. [Y] was more confused than shocked. He has seen his animal friends with their nose nuzzles together, but people who are his kind do mouth-to-mouth. So…that was his first kiss.

“Is that a normal way to say goodbye?” [Y] asked innocently. The denizens look at the male with concern.

“Pure soul doesn't know what a “kiss” is…”

“Ah…No, [Y]. It's—” Caramel Arrow Cookie leaned over and whispered in the taller male’s ear.

“Oh. Then is it ok to kiss you guys, I like you guys a lot.” [Y] asked.

The denizens were flustered by the fact that the wanderer admitted that he likes them, but the kissing is out of the question.

“N-no need.. “ Caramel Arrow Cookie sweatdropped. “I don't know if I could explain any further. How's his majesty doing?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Dark Cacao Cookie was burning up. Kissing the wanderer then walking away, he must've thought the ruler is weird. A knock on his door was heard, “Come in.”

“My liege.” Caramel Arrow Cookie peek into the room. Dark Cacao Cookie sighed, “Did he leave?”

“Yes, he did.”

“...He didn't look disgusted, did he?”

“Well…more like clueless. He seems to like it, but he was bewildered on how it works.” The first watcher scratches the back of her head with a nervous smile on her face.

The raven haired ruler was astounded, but he found it amusing, causing him to chuckle softly upon realizing how daring the wanderer can be.

“Hahahaha…I see. Good to know.” Dark Cacao Cookie smiled fondly.

“His majesty has acted differently since the wanderer arrived. Seeing him smile for the first time is like a blessing. I hope nothing takes away that smile.” Caramel Arrow Cookie chuckled quietly.

╭ ⁞ ❏. facts

┊ ⁞ ❏. there are so many things [y] still need to learn

┊ ⁞ ❏. dark choco cookie, here we come!

┊ ⁞ ❏. fire spirit once trying to get [y] to swear, but failed when wind archer find out

┊ ⁞ ❏. [y] may or may not have connection to the beast cookies

➤ chapter vi

➤ act i. | non-existent friend.

[hocuspocusbabyy]

I’m sorry but just IMAGINE Eloise and Cressida as parents?!

Cressida would 100% be a full blown PTA mum, planning all the best events for her children’s school.

Eloise would inevitably be dragged along to help decorate and somehow end up agreeing the directing the school play - because she’s read the book a MILLION times! And “Couldn’t possibly let them butcher it.”

They’d have two daughters and a son. Aged, 5, 3 and 6 months. Lunet, Maeve and Benedict Jr.

Eloise would try sneaking treats that Cressida had baked for a fundraiser. Getting caught with frosting on her mouth, she swears blind to her wife she a no idea where it came from.

Cressida baking special cookies just for Eloise to eat! 😭

Eloise would read to the children every night, Cressida insisting she’s just there to tuck them in but ultimately sat across the bottom of the bed to listen too.

Cressida will often insist Eloise continues reading despite the fact the kids are already asleep, and they will have to reread that chapter again the next evening!

Uncle Benedict would love taking care of the children so their mothers may enjoy a walk or weekend alone 🥹 “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Though I suppose that doesn’t leave a lot.”

Uncle Colin and Aunt Pen would already arrive with an array of wonderful gifts. Eloise has a shelf of trinkets, many from Cressida and her family. Stemming from rocks, sea shells and pressed flowers to tiny figurines and bottles of sand from Colin’s travels.

Eloise secretly adores that Cressida insists on hanging Benedict’s painting’s in their home.

Eloise will often return home to Cressida and Violet sharing tea in the garden - Violet cannot go more than a few days without visiting her grandchildren.

Aunt Daphne and Cressida would take great pride in buying the children the cutest shoes and outfits - much to Eloise’s dismay when she finds her youngest in a ‘hideous’ bonnet. “Well what has she got this monstrosity on her head for? Oh my sweet girl don’t worry mummy will protect you from the taffeta.”

Eloise often getting emotional when spending time alone with her wife and children, free of any distractions. Forgoing her book to simple watch Cressida and their toddler play in the grass with wooden blocks.

Cressida tired at the breakfast table a child on either knee, as Elouise and their eldest read the newspaper out loud. Gently kissing their temples and stirring her tea.

Eloise and Cressida often indulging in a sneaky cigarette together at the end of a long week. Hidden out on the balcony to their room - their children fast asleep in the next room. Often shushing one another when their giggling threatens to wake them.

Eloise nearly having a ‘heart attack’ seeing her child on a horse for the first time, insisting her wife is insane and she’d prefer both ‘her girls’ back on the ground.

Cressida being the good cop, Eloise bad cop in many matters. I truly believe Cressida would be the biggest softy towards their children.

Eloise helping the children with their school work, whilst Cressida knits across the room (Cressida is utterly no help academically.)

Violet often insisting on taking the children for the evening because her home is simply ‘too big’ and Cressida and Eloise are ‘still young’.

Cressida and Eloise often opting to enjoy their meals in the form of picnic. Packing up the children to spend the evening down by the river.

Cressida rolling up her sleeves and teaching the children to skim stones.

Eloise sat waiting to aid them all in drying off when they’re done. The baby resting upon her chest.

Eloise often scolding Cressida more than the children, her wife simply brushing her off with terms of endearment or a kiss.

Cressida taking birthdays very seriously, waking up early to decorate the house. They keep Violets birthday hat tradition well alive. Eloise made her one their first birthday spent together and she still has it. Violet cried when they did the same for her.

The entire family often visit for long weekends and dinners - Eloise and Cressida opted to live in the country where there is more privacy and space for them.

[hypernova-writes]

Didjjdjfjfjdj I cannot contain it anymore- Can I request a fem spy x reader x fem sniper? I loveebehddhfj women saur much and I need those two so BAD 😭 Like my heart genuinely broke when I tried searching fem fortress x reader only to get NOTHINGGGG 💔💔💔 If you do this request, my life is entirely YOURS ☹️💖💖💖💖💖💖

~ 💌 anon

A/n: of course you may!! I did this as a sort of a rivalry type of them, like they try to see who could spoil you the most, I just love the whole Bloody Suit Pairing all together..

Anything You Can Do I can do better! [Fem!Spy/Fem!Sniper x reader]

-> Your girlfriends love trying to see who can spoil you more, But they both love you oh so much!

OH THE COMPETITION!!

“…’Roo..”

“Oh Darling!”

You blush as you’re standing between your two girlfriends.

Spy loved spoiling you with rich and lavish things you could never really afford on your own. A new dress you mentions, she’d bought it for you in your top three favorite colors.

She’ll pay for expensive jewelry for you (and Sniper too..), she’ll make sure the color matches your eyes, if you don’t like it, she’ll take it back and get one that matches you a lot more.. (and manages to be more expensive.

Sniper is more of a quality time type of gal, she’ll cook for you, paying attention to what you like the most, she’ll even use some of the recipes her parents taught her. She’ll have you taste testing, standing beside her.

Spy also likes to tag along in these little cooking session, she handles the baking, (i feel like she could bake a mean set of cookies..).

She’ll also tease Sniper with phrases like: “Darling, try not to kill our little wife with your cooking,” Knowing damn well Sniper can cook.

Sniper would ignore her, only rolling her eyes to place kisses on both of your cheeks before saying. “You’ve eaten it. You’re alive.”

The best cuddles in the world.

Sniper loves loves loves, having you sit in her lap, while Spy likes having you place your head in her lap.

When it comes to battles? Oh honey you are protected!

Someone gets a little too close to you and you don’t notice? Sniper has got em.

You get cornered? Don’t worry Spy is coming with a backstab to save her little wifey.

Honestly, they love you as much as they love each other, so yes, they will harm someone if anyone even dares to disrespect you. And they better hope to god that they aren’t around, or they will be dealt with.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

I like to think that Ponyboy thought Soda was closest to their Dom and Darry had their Dad; that sure his parents loved him but he wasn't their favorite but being dead ass wrong.

Got any headcannons about Mr. and Mrs. Curtis loving their littlest baby boy? :)

HECK YEAH I DO! Thanks anon, this ask is so cute.

Ponyboy and his Parents headcanons:

-Got to ride around on Mr. Curtis' shoulders a lot when he was little, and since he was the baby of the family and their last kiddo, also was allowed to way longer than Soda or darry did (this kid was nearly five when he was finally considered 'too big' for it anymore)

-Soda was definitely one of those kids who needed their parents to sit and supervise to make sure they actually did their homework, so when Soda and Darry were doing homework but Pony was too young to have any yet, Mrs. Curtis would sit at the table with him and they'd do colouring books together while Mr Curtis helped the others with schoolwork

-When Darry and Soda were out with friends but Pony was too young to go along, Mrs.Curtis would make a pillow fort in the living room and make them each an ice cream sundae, and then they'd sit together in the fort eating ice cream and reading together. It's part of why Pony's such a voracious reader now, because his mom made it so special for him when he was little

-When Mrs. Curtis was baking chocolate cakes she'd let Pony lick the spoon whenever he was alone with her in the kitchen- which was often, him and Soda were both total mama's boys. (She did it for all her kids of course, whenever they were the only ones around, and to this day they all still think they were the only ones who she let do it since she always told them it was their little secret.)

-Ponyboy has his father's height and also his build. Mr. Curtis was never a track star, but he won a few foot races at fairs and stuff when he was a kid, and that's where Pony gets his speed from

-Anytime young Pony wondered why his dad picked such a weird name- particularly if he was upset after getting teased about it- and demanded to know why they'd given it to him, Mr.Curtis would tell a different story and they got progressively more outlandish ever time he asked

-Mr. Curtis liked movies almost as much as Ponyboy does, except he was the type of person to talk through them, and it annoyed Ponyboy so much (now he'd do anything to watch a movie with his dad again)

-Mrs. Curtis gave all her kids tons of nicknames, but her favourite ones were a little ridiculous. She called Darry 'cheeks' because he had really rosy cheeks as a toddler, Soda was 'smudges' because as a baby he always had food on his face, and Ponyboy was 'bean' because he was a bouncy baby and was 'just like a little jumping bean, aren't you my little love?'

-Mr. Curtis loved plants but couldn't keep one alive no matter how hard he tried, and he mourned every single one he accidentally killed. Pony unfortunately inherited both the love of plants and the opposite of a green thumb. After the sixth plant funeral Pony forced him to attend, Curly got him a succulent thinking it would be impossible for Pony to kill a plant that hardly needs water. The very next day he found himself attending plant funeral number seven

-Mr. Curtis would help Ponyboy and Soda make signs and banners before every one of Darry's football games when Darry was having breakfast with his team. They always offered Mrs.Curtis to join them but she usually took the opportunity of all her boys being busy to take a few minutes to herself

-Soda was always moving as a child, so Mrs. Curtis took him to one of those 'mommy and me' dance classes- but like, the 60s equivalent so like, swing dance lessons they just happened to go to together- while Darry, Pony, and Mr. Curtis would all cook dinner. Because of this, the Curtis brothers all cook more like their dad than their mom, because Mr.Curtis had the patience to help teach them in the kitchen, whereas Mrs. Curtis hated anyone else in her space when cooking (girl me too)

-Mrs. Curtis was the chocaholic that all the Curtis bros inherited their sweet tooth from. She used to buy an extra bag of chocolate chips and keep in the drawer of her bedside table because no other place in the house was safe from Darry's careful investigations and Ponyboy's pleading green eyes. And don't even get her started on Soda's ability to sniff chocolate out like a bloodhound, and steal it quieter than a ghost. That kid was never quiet, not even in church, but hide a chocolate muffin in the back of the fridge and suddenly he was a monk until it was in his belly.

-Ponyboy thinks he doesn't share much/enough resemblance with his parents, but his ears go red like Mrs.Curtis' used to when she was embarrassed or mad, and the cut of his jawline is just the same as Mr.Curtis', and he tilts his head when he laughs just like his mom did. Sometimes Ponyboy will get confused and the scrunch between his brows is so similar to the way their mom used to look when she was trying to help him with math homework that it catches Darry off guard and for a second it's hard for him to breathe

-Mrs.Curtis might have got Pony into reading, but Mr.Curtis was the one who got him into liking poetry. He could recite lines and lines of poetry off by heart and Pony still remembers some of his dad's favourites

[buckyalpine]

Your Daughter ii

Bucky x single mom reader, Steve, Sam

This is just all FLUFF

Imagine Bucky babysitting your four year old daughter for the first time. You have a conference you have to go to last minute and you’ve never left her alone with anyone else before. Bucky hates seeing the way the worry eats you, wondering who could look after her on such short notice. He loves spending time with your baby so he has no problem offering his time if that's something you’re okay with. 

You don’t want to pressure him into anything but you’re beyond grateful because there's no one else you trust more and you know she’d feel safe with him. 

“Be good for Prince Charming, alright?” You whisper, making her giggle, giving her a kiss on her cheek. She nods, going back inside to finish her breakfast, already excited about the weekend she’s going to have with mommy’s special friend. Mommy had lots of friends but Bucky was her favorite. 

As soon as you’re out the door, Bucky starts to feel nervous. He wants to do a good job and show you he’s in this for the long run, he’s here for the both of you. Your daughter is an absolute angel, so he knows he has nothing to worry about but still. He looks over the checklist you left for him, memorizing everything on it just to be safe.

He goes over to the kitchen, where your little one has finished eating, tip toeing over the sink to wash her hands. He lifts her onto a stool, helping her clean off before they go over to the living room and plop down on the sofa.  

“What do you want to do today princess” 

“It’s Saturday” She made a thinking face while clambering into his large lap, “Oh! We bake on Saturday” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he picked up a whisk or spatula but he wasn’t going to break tradition or disappoint the cutest face he’d seen in his life. He nodded, scooping her up in one arm, scrolling through recipes on his phone, setting her down on the kitchen island. 

“How about sugar cookies?” He took your daughters wide eyes and clapping hands as an immediate yes, grabbing what he needed from the cupboards and fridge. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to turn upside down but the sweet aroma of cookies wafting through the house made Bucky smile. He chuckled at the soft giggles your little one made as she iced each cookie, pink frosting smeared across her nose and cheeks, though not seeming to care one bit. Bucky felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, immediately grabbing it incase if was you. 

“How you holdin’ up punk” Bucky can could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, his best friend knowing how big a step this was for him. 

“We’re both alive” Bucky snorted, looking at the mess of sprinkles and sugar around the kitchen, nothing too disastrous. “We made enough cookies to feed an army”

“Say no more” 

Bucky and your daughter both do a perfect job of cleaning up the mess, thought struggling to find enough containers to put all the cookies in. She decides a tea party would be a good idea as an excuse to eat the cookies that didn’t fit into the boxes. 

Who was he to disagree? He helped her pick out a dress to wear along with matching shoes, softly brushing her hair and tying bows into her pigtails. He changed out of his flour covered clothes, cleaning himself up for a distinguished night of apple juice, cookies, carrot sticks and Beauty and the Beast. 

The doorbell rings and your daughter sets down her cup, wondering who it could be. 

“Mommy’s home?” She looks at him with curious eyes, just a tad bit disappointed all the fun is already ending. Or so she thought. 

Your babygirl has no idea what to do with herself when she's surrounded by Prince Charming's handsome friends. She hides behind Bucky’s large form, peeking from behind him before taking Steve and Sam’s large hands in her tiny ones over to her set up. 

If only you were there to witness the sight of the large men all clambered together in a circle with their pinkies up, holding cups that could fit in their palms. They’re all in various get ups your little one dressed them up in, tiaras, feathers, lace and beads strewn across them. 

Steve made a mental note to cry happy tears later, not now, watching your daughter dote over Bucky the most, constantly filling his cup, inching towards his side whenever she sat down. 

Sam was between wanting to laugh at the super solider nearly topping off the 1 foot chair he was given and crying over how cute little your babygirl was, politely making the rounds with her tray of cookies. His eyes may or may not have glossed over when she ignored her own chair and decided Bucky’s lap was a comfier place to sit. 

“You sit down and relax princess, how about you get changed and let us take care of all this” Steve smiled, clearing up the cups and plates, letting Bucky take your daughter up to get washed and changed into her pj’s. By the time she was back down, all she had to do was get comfy and pick a movie, happily snuggled between the her favorite Prince and his handsome Knight friends. 

As you walk though the door, your eyes grow wide at the mass of large shoes on the mat, smiling curiously when you can hear your baby's favorite movie and the smell of cookies still lingering around the house. You quietly padded down the hall, biting your lip seeing the three men all squished together on your sofa with your babygirl tucked right in the middle, their eyes all glues to the screen. 

Sam pawed at Steve’s thigh, silently asking for a tissue, as Belle cries over Beast, waiting for him to wake up. Your daughter was the first to notice you were home, the rest of the audience too heavily invested in the movie. 

“Mommy look! It’s our favorite part!” She wiggled out of her comfy spot, jumping into your arms as you scooped her up. 

The three men, looked up at you, all teary eyed, while your little one grinned, excited to see Beast transform into Adam so he could be happy with Belle. You giggled, watching Steve pass the box of tissues over again, collective sniffles shared between the three.

Sam and Steve shared knowing glances, noting the way Bucky’s cheeks were now tinted pink, looking lovingly at you and your daughter. They quickly said their good byes, not before promising your little one they’d be to see her again; they wouldn’t miss her tea parties for the world. 

You tucked your daughter in for the night, making your way back down to find Bucky holding two mugs of tea, setting them down on the coffee table and tugging you into his lap on the couch. 

“Welcome home, mama” He smiled, kissing your hair, his hand massaging up and down your spine. He’d never felt more loved and happy in his life, feeling like he finally had a little family to himself, a place to call home. 

“She loves spending time with you” You relaxed in his hold, toying with is dog tags, smiling to yourself over how perfect it all felt. The piece that always felt missing in your home was complete when Bucky was around. “We both do” 

He smiled against your hair, feeling more confident in his decision, thinking about the ring that sat in his drawer back at the compound. 

Soon. 

“I love you” He smiled, holding you tightly in his arms, “I love you both” 

[cherriive]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do Yunjin, Kirara and Chevreuse hcs of them w a girlfriend reader who likes to bake them really cute desserts and stuff :3 just reader being like "I spent hours decorating these for you" and showing them like cookies in heart or animal shapes or smth similar ^_^

MY HONEY, HONEY PIE — with yunjin, kirara and chevreuse

description. them with a reader who loves to bake cute desserts for them

tags. f!reader, reader is quite silly, reallyyy short (sorry)

comments. woahh sorry for not writing this before, I'm still trying to get back to writing and I've been failing miserably as u can see. hope u like it tho!!

YUNJIN — [sidequest]

Yunjin was going back home, feeling a bit tired not only from all the songs she had to rehearse that day, but also not having time to eat a lot.

She wasn't one to usually skip meals throughout the day, but the stress from her upcoming opera was eating her alive.

As soon as the door was open, Yunjin was met with a pair of arms wrapped around her - your arms - and a delicious smell in the air.

“You're finally back! I made you something!” - Hearing your voice was enough to make Yunjin feel home again.

But her brain only focused on what you said last.

“Something for me?”

“Mhm!! Here, it's in the kitchen.”

Now she had a better idea on what you meant, but still didn't wanted to ruin your 'surprise', so she just followed you. Silently smiling to herself.

“Aaand... It's here!”

Yunjin couldn't hide the soft smile creeping on her face as she saw you standing there, holding the cutest dessert ever that she knew was going to be tasty.

“Thank you my dear. I'm sure it tastes amazing like always.”

KIRARA — [sidequest]

Kirara was finally finished with her last package, excited to go home and cuddle you.

Even before opening the front door, Kirara felt the smell of something sweet. Her tail wiggling slightly without her noticing.

She quickly opened the door, bursting inside the house already screaming for you.

“HONEY!! I'M HOME!”

Kirara didn't had to wait for more than a few seconds before you came inside the room, giving her a quick peck on the lips and smiling.

“I smelled something good. Are you making desserts again?”

“Yep! And I've made one just for you.”

Your words made her ears perk up, for which she quickly nodded.

As you two entered the kitchen, her eyes widened as soon as she landed them on the cake sitting on the counter.

Giggling, you grabbed it and handed it to Kirara, to which she gladly took it.

“Wahh! I love you so much!”

CHEVREUSE — [main quest]

Chevreuse was still in her job, having very long days ever since the last fontaine events.

With her unhealthy addiction to junk food, Chevreuse was already going to take a short break so she could eat some.

Until she spotted you, running in her direction.

Wrapping your arms around her and basically jumping in her, you pulled away a little, holding a small bag.

“What are you doing here, love? You know I still have work to do.”

“I've made you some desserts!” — you handed the bag to Chevreuse, who, even if she tried to maintain her posture, quickly opened it to eat the dessert.

You watched her with a smile, with hands behind your back while you wiggled to the front and back.

“I baked these ones to be very special! And also so you stopped eating so much unhealthy food when working.”

Chevreuse let out a small chuckle, taking a small bite from the dessert and smiling at you again.

“They're very tasty and cute. Thank you my love.”

[thehivemindsys]

Waylon Park Headcanons

Hiii outlast tumblr. I really adore you guys and I kinda wanted to yap about my interpretations of the characters. So here goes.

TW for sexual assault, sexual harrassment, rape, canontypical violence…all the normal outlast stuff.

-Waylon is for sure autistic. His hyperfixation is coding and finds a lot of comfort in learning how to speak computer languages-though this comfort is ultimately turned against him when he starts working for Murkoff. He’s damn good at what he does, and Jeremy uses this fact to force Waylon into running the Engine at a perfect capacity.

-Waylon is riddled with the guilt of what he’s done for Murkoff. He feels extremely complicit in Murkoff’s activities even if he is the one who eventually brought upon their downfall. He had to stand by and keep their secret for quite a while, which is why he feels that way.

-Jeremy had suspected that Waylon may try and sabatoge the operation even before he was caught red-handed. In order to circumvent this, he was given a residency in the asylum where he was forced to work from. He basically wasn’t allowed to leave without Jeremy’s explicit permission. You can bet Jeremy took advantage of that.

-Waylon is a very empathetic person. He hates seeing people in pain, and even has empathy for those who have gone out of their way to bring harm to him. He is a naturally altruistic person-but if pushed hard enough, he can become cold and sardonic.

-Waylon is a big literature fan-he reads as often as he can. Canonically Waylon makes mention to the French folktale, Bluebeard, so it can be assumed that dark fantasy is one of his favorite genres.

-Waylon has a love for baking, specifically baking cookies. Cookies are somewhat of a comfort food for him, considering his grandmother raised him, and she was a bit of a baker herself. He bakes to keep her memory alive.

-Waylon may be nerdy, but he is very in touch with his feminine side. Though he mostly only does this in private, he sometimes will wear a skirt and long socks-it is purely a thing he wishes to enjoy in the privacy of his own home, because he fears what others will say. If Waylon was forced into a dress by Eddie, he wouldn’t be happy.

-Waylon is transmasc. The reason he is not affected by the Walrider’s “phantom pregnancies” is because he was sterilized after giving birth to his second child. It was a decision he made after the financial strain of two children on his family became a problem. Lisa, in tandem, is transfem, making them T4T parents.

-The issue is, that his status as a transmasc was often exploited by the men in the asylum-most notably Jeremy Blaire, who used him for sex against his will, and Eddie Gluskin, who assaulted him during their encounter. Waylon also likely endured sexual harrassment from other men who worked for Murkoff, considering he is somewhat small and weak compared to most of the other workers there.

-Waylon’s build is thin and lanky, mostly. His limbs are awkwardly longer in comparison to his torso. He has a bit of a hunched-over posture, and gets bad acne when he’s distressed.

-Waylon for sure is a Reddit user.

-Waylon loves video games, especially deconstructing their code. One of Waylon’s favorite pastimes is seeing how much he can corrupt the code of a video game until it no longer works.

[gunsknivesandplaid]

Imagine if Max gets her sight back but also develops powers where she can see things in the future. (Eddie's gotta be alive and somehow they pulled Chrissy back too thanks to El.)

Like at first she just thinks her dreams coming through is a dejavu thing until she's practicing on her skateboard outside of a store and has a vision of a little kid running out in front of a car and saves him minutes later.

Lucas and her have a fight but she runs to his house to convince(stall) the whole family to let her go for pizza with them; saving them from a car accident.

Sometimes it's silly like saving Mike from tripping in the cafeteria and landing on the trash cart. Sometimes it is that they're going to have a pop up test so they all meet up to study.

She has a vision of her mom passing out at work from exhaustion and gets her to stay home that day. She has a vision next week that Ned comes back and starts beating her mom while she's seizing in the other room and is on the phone with Hopper so fast her mom trips coming around the corner of the kitchen. They go to doctor and notice her mom does indeed have a seizure disorder now from the alcoholism.

She convinces Joyce to come over with a casserole and avoid the nosy neighbors stopping by to gossip about how she moved back. Suddenly they're having more girls nights where Max El Joyce and Susan bake cookies and paint each other nails and watch movies the boys aren't all that interested in. Eventually it becomes a book club.

Then sometimes it's sad, like She sees someone in her friend group(it doesn't have to be any party member she could join like drama or something)being abused by their partner and saves them.

She sees a school bus rolling over and convinces will and El to steal cones from hopper to block that road and nobody gets hurt.

She has a vision that Steve's house is on fire and runs across the street to get Eddie to help her warn Steve.

She has a vision that the bleachers where the band sit has a screw loose and manages to convince the janitor to go check them saving Robin from a broken leg.

She saves El from being attacked by a bear when roaming the woods when her powers are weakened.

She warns Dustin that he might want to stay away from home or he'll catch his mom kissing her new boyfriend, then throws Skittles at him in the back of Steve's car to cheer him up.

She warns Nancy she might want to switch shoes before her TV reporter debut so she won't break a heel in the church fundraiser fair parking lot.

She gets overwhelmed sometimes but she also knows that whatever this is, it's important.