#there's a good chance that the tree he last stood by is still standing.

[bobby-ross]

Never gonna stop thinking about the tragedy that is qDan. The last thing he ever said to anyone was "I'll see you later". He never made it home. He wanted to help. He promised to be back. He made a waypoint of Maxo's house so he would know how to get back. He played hide and seek with his child and sang him to sleep. He did his best to protect his partner despite never once having a piece of armor or a weapon. "Let me save you" is one of the lines he said that I remember the most. "Let me save you", he said, to someone who was much stronger than him. "I'll see you later", he said, to someone he would never see again. "Tell me when he wakes up", he said, about his child, because he wanted to be there. He wanted to help. He wanted so badly to be there. Let me save you. I'll see you later.

He never made it across the second river.

[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

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, child injury, allusions to gunshot wound, pregnancy complications A/N: Okay, this one turned out to be a monster. My brain is fried so any mistakes I made, I'll fix later. I really really hope Daryl isn’t OOC here. I tried to put myself in his shoes, knowing what I know about him. Anyway! On with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You stayed closer to the RV while the group had gathered around Carol to provide support. While you wanted desperately to be there for her, you couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of guilt. Your baby was safe inside your belly while her Sophia was lost in the forest. 

Rick had dispatched the two walkers that had scared the little girl into running, but found her missing when he returned. He had since taken Daryl, Glenn, and Shane back into the trees. Daryl was a tracker and a damn good one. If anyone stood a chance at finding her, it was him. 

“You okay?” 

You startled from your thoughts to see Andrea staring down at you with concern etched onto her face. You must really look like shit. You had completely forgotten about food and water along with the items you had gathered once you and Daryl had made it back to find that Sophia had disappeared. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” You didn’t sound very convincing even to your own ears. You were still dizzy with a trembling in your limbs that just would not subside. Your stomach was still uneasy. When wasn’t it uneasy, actually?

“You’re looking a little pale. Can I get you anything?” She laid a hand against the RV and leaned into it. 

“Some water, if they found any?” Your voice was so gravelly, your mouth dry. Your lips felt as if they’d split open should you smile. 

“Yeah! Shane found a ton! One second!” 

Then she was off! You didn’t have the energy to track her movements, instead deciding to place your forehead against your knees. You truly did feel horrible. If this was what women called the joys of pregnancy, you would pass, thank you very much, and just get handed the baby. 

“Here.” Reluctantly, you raised your head, finding a plastic cup at eye level. With a minute nod, you sipped slowly at the cold drink. It felt like heaven on your parched throat. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Huh?” You were absolutely abstracted. When she asked again, you really had to stop and think. “I guess at the CDC.”

“Oh, hun. That’s not good. Let me see what I can find for you.” Andrea began to turn but stopped when you laid a hand on her arm. 

“I really don’t think I can stomach anything. Everything makes me sick.” You ran a hand through your hair, grimacing when your fingers became trapped by some knotted stands. You had eaten the candies Carol had given you with only mild relief. There was not a second of reprieve from your stomach attempting to crawl out of your throat. 

“You need nutrients. For the baby.” She urged, crouching down in front of you. 

“I know. Maybe I can try when they find Sophia and we can go back to the normal amount of fear and anxiety.” One side of your mouth lifted into a ghost of a smile when you heard her chuckle. 

“Okay. But let me know if you change your mind.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Glenn and Shane returned first, the former handing out tasks to keep everyone busy. Most likely trying to control panic. You were no exception. The man sent you to grab the things you had found. You didn’t hesitate to inform him there was too much to retrieve on your own. 

“You’ll just have to make trips then, won’tcha? He scoffed, turning away and leaving no room for argument. 

You still wanted to show how useful you could be but you felt like hammered shit. The dizziness and trembling remained, and your ass met the pavement once you had arrived back to your treasure pile. There was no way you were coming back out there again. Listening for any signs of danger, you began to consolidate. Only the most useful things were placed in the suitcase, the remainder left on the ground. Zipping up the thing, you were beyond grateful for the wheels. 

Daryl and Rick had returned by the time you made it back. Sophia was not with them. Carol was in hysterics. Honestly, you weren’t sure that she had ever left the mindset. It didn’t take any persuading for you to relinquish the bed in the RV to her that night. 

Come morning, weakness and exhaustion were a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around you. You wanted to stay there and sleep but that wasn’t even remotely an option. Not while Sophia was out there. 

Everyone was issued a weapon. You were given a second knife and holster, this one taking up residence on your hip. Only Shane, Rick, and Daryl were carrying firearms. Some bogus bullshit about everyone else needed to be trained. You were trained. However, there was no use arguing and you felt too horrible to engage in a losing battle. 

“What’re ya doin’?”

You lifted your head to find Daryl glaring at you. “My taxes. What’s it look like?” You replied with an over exaggerated roll of your eyes. 

“Ya ain’t goin’.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Unfortunately for him, there was no way you could care less. 

“Not asking permission, Dixon.” You made to walk by him but he caught your arm in passing. With a stern look at his hand on your bicep, you hissed “let go.”

“Nah, ya need to stay here.”

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Ain’t you m’worried ‘bout.” He shot a pointed look at your stomach. 

You snatched your arm free. “That’s sweet, but again, I’m not asking your permission.” It was getting easier and easier to walk away from him. You weren’t so sure that was a good thing. 

Andrea and Dale were engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation as you passed by. You had an inkling on what it was about but it was none of your business. It was Andrea’s choice and she felt it had been taken from her. You could sympathize, recalling the helplessness you had felt when Jenner closed those doors. You and the blonde were on opposite ends of that spectrum. You had wanted desperately to live while she had been ready to die. 

The group had already crossed the guardrail and entered the trees with you and Andrea pulling up the rear in a jog until you caught up. While she continued forward, you chose to hang back. Daryl had taken the lead, constantly scanning for footprints or other disturbances that could possibly indicate Sophia had been through the area. You could have helped him, but it would likely not be well received given he had rebuffed the idea of you being there in the first place. 

“Stop lagging behind.” Shane grumbled at you, halting his steps until you passed him. “Shouldn’t even be here.” You weren’t sure if he had meant for you to hear him. Nor were you sure of his reasoning. Because you were a stranger? Because you were pregnant? Regardless, you let it slide. You were there to help find Sophia. 

Your steps remained steady which meant Lori had slowed her own while talking with Carl. Yet another conversation you had no right to hear, but you did offer a tight smile in passing. You ended up behind Glenn, absently comfortable with that. He had said the least to you but when he did speak, he was kind. 

It wasn’t much further before Daryl gave a signal to slow. When he lowered into a crouch everyone followed suit, including you. The transition left you dizzy and leaning forward to place a palm on the dirt in order to maintain your balance. The all too familiar twist and cramp of your stomach signaled the impending purge. Maybe you should have stayed behind. 

Your steps were silent as a ghost. You retreated from the group, backtracking as far as you safely could alone before you no longer had control. All the water you had managed to drink splashed onto the dirt, leaving you once again empty. You were going to die from starvation or dehydration at this point. It was a terrifying reality. The only option would be to find a pharmacy and seek out something for nausea. But what was safe to take during pregnancy?

Your first few steps were unsteady but you managed to level your gait at some point while tracking your way back to the others. Before you could really gauge whether your absence had been noticed, there was a tolling of bells in the distance. Church bells?

The small group as a whole began to sprint toward the sound but you? You couldn’t run if you tried. The dizziness was worsening, your extremities feeling not unlike lead weights. You knew now Daryl had been right. You should have stayed behind. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. Now, you had no choice but to move forward. Making the trip back to the RV alone would be more dangerous than falling a little behind your group. At least they could hear if you called for help. 

When you finally saw the space in front of you open up to an old church house and the familiar shapes of your fellow party members, you could have cried. Well, actually, you probably physically couldn’t cry. Dehydration was taking hold, a fact that you knew without anyone pointing it out. You hadn’t needed to pee since the previous afternoon. Your tongue was sandpaper. Your skin was dull and a bit itchy. You were going downhill and you didn’t know what to do about it. 

When you noticed that a portion of the group had broken away from Rick, Shane, and Carl, you wondered if your mind was beginning to go as well. Why were they splitting up? Lost in your confusion, Daryl was nearly on top of you before you even realized he was approaching. 

“What the fuck d’ya think you’re doin’?” He hissed in an exaggerated whisper. Oh, he was mad. Oh wait. He seemed to always be mad. “Don’t think I didn’t see ya sneakin’ off back there. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“You’re right.” You stood a little straighter. If you had to admit you were wrong, you would at least be confident about it. 

“D’ya think this is a game? There’s fuckin’ corpses out—wait, what?”

You barely suppressed a chuckle at his expression. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. I’m a liability and I’m—not okay.”

“Daryl, we should go.” 

He held up a hand, silencing Andrea without even looking back. “Whaddaya mean ‘not okay’?”

“I can’t eat. I can’t even drink water without puking. I think—I think I might be—”

“Nah.” He interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even say that shit. Just need to getcha back to the RV. Y’can rest an’ I’ll take the bike. Find some meds or somethin’. Doubt anythin’ in Merle’s stash would be good for the kid but I’ll check anyway.” 

“Huh.” You raised your eyebrows, damn near astonished. 

“What?”

“I think that may be the most you’ve said to me at one time since we’ve known each other.” The corner of your mouth lifted and—it may have been a hallucination—you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch as well. 

“Stop. Can ya walk?”

“For now.” You took slow, albeit steady, steps to go around him, noticing that he never once tried to get ahead of you. He was worried. If you were this sick, what were the chances of your baby even making it? What if it was gone already?

“Let’s head back.” He instructed as the two of you passed by the suspicious gazes. Daryl had to lead them but his actions made it clear they would walk at his pace or venture ahead and get lost. Right now, his pace was your pace. You couldn’t make everyone suffer for your inability to keep up. The point was to search for Sophia, which meant as much ground needed covered as humanly possible. With a great amount of difficulty—and a few unsteady steps—you managed to pick up some speed. Daryl had taken only moments to be at your side once again, dipping his head as if requesting an explanation. 

“So this is it? This is the whole plan?” Carol’s meek voice came from behind you, both you and Daryl turning to regard her. With a hand on your shoulder, he steered you to a downed tree and pushed you to sit. 

“I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller an’ smaller groups.” You felt a tap against the front of your shoulder while holding your head in your hands. Daryl was still focused on the discussion but was offering you a tumbler of water. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You’d be stupid to let your pride persuade you into rejecting the offer. He gave you a nod and continued to listen to Lori's defense of her husband. Personally, you had nothing against Rick and believed he had once again made a call that was twisted to come back and bite him in the ass. No one wanted to blame him but in the face of fear and grief, blame was an easy scapegoat.

“C’mon.” Daryl gave you a moment to take one more sip and then helped you stand, clipping the water container back to his belt loop. It was blatantly obvious that his concern was for his baby, which in turn ensured that he made sure you were safe and healthy, but you couldn’t lie: having him be kind to you was something you wished you could grow to depend on. It was nice. Fleeting but nice. 

A wave of dizziness had you listing to the side, only briefly fearing you’d fall before you felt his arm around your waist.

“Easy.” His voice was calm, almost soothing to your frayed nerves. As you got your feet back under you, you nodded that you were okay. He lingered, watching you with those deep blue pools. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost. 

Several feet behind, Andrea cleared her throat, pretending to be looking at something up in the canopy when both you and Daryl quickly separated. How long had you been staring at him? Your cheeks warmed, actually managing to make you feel impossibly worse. Although, he had been looking right back. The tiniest of smiles upturned your lips, unbidden.

And then there was the unmistakable echoing crack of a gunshot.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Whether it was you or someone else in the group, the unease in your gut was more than the ever-plaguing nausea. Behind you, Lori had stopped again to look back from where you had all traveled from. 

You were all watching her, but Andrea was the one to speak up. “You still worrying about it?”

“It was a gun.” The dark-haired woman replied, her gaze still far away.

Daryl hadn’t moved from your side, and he was doing a terrible job at hiding his disquiet. “We all heard it.” 

Lori looked like she might start moving forward again, but she only managed to shift on her feet before looking back. “Why one? Why just one gun?”

You saw Daryl glance at you from the corner of your eye. He was losing patience. “Maybe they took down a walker.”

With a tilt of her head, her expression screamed unimpressed. “Please don’t patronize me. You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gun to put down one walker, or Shane. They’d do it quietly.”

Carol fidgeted where she stood, looking as if she felt she had to say something. “Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?”

Daryl took a breath. “There’s nothin’ we can do ‘bout it, anyway. Can’t run ‘round these woods chasin’ echoes.” He chanced a glance at you, and you knew then that he was eager to make them move to get you back to the RV. You’d never say anything yourself. That much was clear by how you had started to push yourself to move faster when you shouldn’t have been moving at all. Unfortunately, Lori didn’t seem to like that answer.

“So, what do we do? Same as we’ve been?”

“Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway.” He hadn’t moved far from you at all, but extended an arm to indicate you should turn around and start walking. When there was a distinct lack of footfalls, you were the first to look back. Daryl looked at you before following suit. Carol and Andrea were engaged in conversation, though their hushed voices kept the nature inaudible. Daryl started toward them, waving you off when you tried to call him back.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you, for what it’s worth.” Andrea was offering a soft smile, extending some comfort to Carol. You winced when Daryl leaned in toward them.

“I’ll tell ya what s’worth—not a damn thing. S’a waste’a time, all this hopin’ an’ prayin’. We’re gonna locate that little girl. She’s gonna be just fine.” When he turned, you hid your smile behind your hand. “M’I the only one Zen ‘round here? Good lord.” There was nothing you could do to keep from chuckling. “Glad ya think s’funny.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, still smiling, but at least treading onward. 

It wasn’t much longer before your legs felt like they might fail to hold your weight. Not only weak, but aching. You could feel your pulse pounding in your head. Daryl continued to offer you water, never bothering to drink any himself, you noticed.

“How much farther?” Lori gave voice to the question you had been thinking for the last half hour.

“Not much.” Daryl reached for you when you stumbled but you shook your head. His eyes remained on you when he continued his reply. “Maybe hundred yards as the crow flies.” The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment at least. “Hey.”

You grimaced as the cramps you had been feeling in your legs seemed to move into your stomach. You hadn’t realized that your hand had immediately pressed into the area. When you finally heard Daryl and looked at him, you were bombarded by the naked concern shining in his eyes. 

“Y’want me to carry ya?” 

Though taken aback by his offer, especially in front of the others after he had spent the better part of the day more focused on you than on the tracking he was out there to do, you shook your head adamantly. “No. No, I’m good.” Another cramp, only slightly sharper than the one that preceded it. It was still enough to have you draw a hissing breath through your teeth.

“Don’t mind. C’mon, ya need to rest an’ we’re losin’ daylight.”

Before you could turn him down a second time, Andrea began screaming somewhere nearby. When had she wandered off? Daryl was readying his crossbow, tapping Carol on the shoulder as he started running. “Stay with ‘er!” He pointed back to you. The woman nodded even though he was long gone.

“You okay, honey?” She asked, brushing some hair away from your face after you selected a tree to lean against. “You look terrible.”

“I just need to rest. Maybe try to eat something.” You all but panted. The pain was still sporadic but each seemed to hurt worse than the last. As it was, you were torn between needing to vomit and the urge to drink the entire container of water Daryl was carrying. 

There was an awful commotion from the direction everyone had disappeared. Daryl soon came sprinting through, slipping the strap of his crossbow over his head before he reached you.

“Sorry.” He huffed between breaths at the same time he swept you up against his chest and continued toward the highway, everyone else right on his heels.

“What happened?” You asked breathlessly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. 

“Some girl came ridin’ on a horse. Saved Andrea’s ass but she was lookin’ for Lori.” Wincing at being jostled when everything already hurt, you opened one eye and caught his grim expression. “Carl got shot.”

The remaining members of your group made it back to the highway in record time without you holding them up. Daryl gingerly lowered you onto the steps of the RV and pressed the water tumbler into your hand. Then he left to go fill in Dale and T-Dog. 

Your hands were shaking as you sipped down some water. First Sophia went missing. Then Carl had been shot. Children weren’t spared from the cruelty of that world. You felt your eyes burn with the desire to cry, yet no tears would fall.

“There are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.”

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe what Jenner did had been intended as a mercy. How could you even consider bringing a baby into that hell? Maybe you should have stayed behind with Jacqui, letting her hold your hand as she had done after the blood draw. Maybe it would be better to let whatever was wrong with you steal from you until there was nothing left. 

Your chest began to pull tight again, your breaths quickening in an attempt to keep pulling in air. Your pulse was thrumming away in your temples, making your eyes ache and your vision blur. All you could think was how badly you wanted to cry but couldn’t. You sat up straighter in hopes that it would make breathing easier, a small sound escaping when your stomach cramped again. It must have been loud enough to alert Daryl because when you opened your eyes, he was walking toward you, his brow pinched in concern.

And in looking at him, watching him react to your discomfort because of the little life the two of you had created, you instantly regretted ever thinking your baby shouldn’t be allowed a chance. That Daryl shouldn’t be allowed a chance to be a father. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N.” 

You were grabbing at his arms and attempting to stand, but in your panic, your voice failed you. The ability to breathe went right along with it. Halfway upright, with Daryl’s hands on your upper arms to aid you, you managed two words: “Something’s wrong.” 

“Shit. Okay. Listen, we’re just gonna get everythin’ together. Leave a note for Sophia. Then we can—”

You cut him off with a scream that made his blood run cold. Your arms wrapped around your middle and held tight, trying to smother the pain stabbing relentlessly at you from the inside. In some distant, dark crevice of your mind, you felt him lift you and heard him shouting. There was the roar of an engine. Daryl’s bike. You blinked, dots and wavering images making it hard to decipher what was happening. You were sideways on the bike, cradled tightly to Daryl’s chest. How the hell? 

“Hey, listen to me. Ya listening?” You gave him the weakest of nods. “Need ta hold onta me. Means ya gotta stay awake. Can ya do that?”

“Son, take a car. We can move more around and make a—”

You blinked slowly and watched Daryl look up and away from you. “There ain’t time!” You blinked again, his blue eyes back on you. “Y/N, can ya do that?!” You didn’t– couldn’t –answer verbally, but moved slightly to wrap your arms around his middle as tightly as you could, which wasn’t tight at all. “Stay awake.” He was already moving, pulling his legs up as he picked up speed. When your stomach cramped again, you only squeezed him tighter with a sob. “I gotcha. Just keep holdin’ on. You’re doin’ great.”

Minutes felt like an eternity, and eventually, you sacrificed holding up your head so the strength in your arms could hold true. When you opened your eyes, all you could see was blue sky. Blue like Daryl’s eyes. Would the baby have had his eyes? 

The wind was no longer blowing. The sound of the engine had disappeared, but you were moving. Daryl was yelling. There were other voices but you were too tired; it hurt too badly. So when darkness beckoned, you took her hand.

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[5.5k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 6 "The Book"

Green.

Green spanning as far as the eye could see. A thick, overflowing forest accompanied by such humid air it made you nauseous and slightly out of breath. It did well to shield you from the sun and you no longer had to use your blazer as a substitute for a poncho and avoid a sunburn.

It took you nearly two days to stop gawking at the luscious flora once you’d set foot in it and the ghoul had found it necessary to bark a threat at you a couple of times when your feet had stilled to take in the scenery. You didn’t let his grumpy nature affect you though. You’d never seen such a view and you let your eyes feast with mouth ajar and hands fisted. Sticky mud, twigs, and leaves clung to the soles of your boots and the vapor you were sure was radioactive frizzed up your hair.

You’d expected the forest to be brimming with life, from animals to insects, birds, and critters, but there was nothing. When you took the time to recollect the past three weeks while silently following behind your bounty-hunter-turned-tour-guide, you hadn’t seen any birds. The bombs wiping them out was the obvious explanation, they were gentle creatures, they didn’t stand a chance and it was a melancholic realization. Bird songs were the symphony of nature and it was painful to know you’d never be able to hear it.

You adjusted the backpack strap away from your throat and rubbed at the sore spot before taking a few springy steps to catch up with the ghoul. His pace had quickened for reasons unknown and you had to jog to be able to keep up with him. It was tedious considering the slippery ground actively worked on slowing you down, but you’d take this over going a faceoff with the sun any day.

Humanity’s traces could be spotted scattered amidst the greenery, bits of metal sprouting from the dirt, tattered cloth at the bases of the trees, or hanging off low branches, a plane wreckage in the distance. It was comforting that other people had passed by your route and left a piece behind, an echo of their presence. You wanted to believe they were good because so far there hadn’t been a soul you had encountered that hadn’t tried to attack you.

WELCOME FOR TO TILLBURRY

A bright red billboard was risen high above the treeline, fastened to a multitude of wooden planks nailed together. The once pearl white paint was now a deep yellow with spangles of rusty brown, the words were peeling off, weathered down by time, you could tell even from where you stood.

You stand shoulder to shoulder, except the ghoul’s is more at level with your cheek. He kicks some buildup off his shoes and opens his canteen.

The settlement is right down the hill. Tillburry. You made it to Tillburry.

“We made it?” you release your lips from their toothy prison and your face lights up with an untamable grin. You beam up at him and shake his arm excitedly. “We made it, Mister.” your eyes dart back to the sign, you’re practically vibrating next to him. “I can’t believe it!”

He pauses between swigs and glances down to where you’ve taken hold of his wrist. His lack of reply stirs your attention and you follow his gaze, then let go and step away with a wary expression.

“Uh…Sorry. I just got a little – ” you’re tugging at the frilly edges of your dress anxiously, one foot readies on its toes if you spotted even a glimpse of a rope peaking from behind his back. “ – I didn’t – No tying up, please? My ankles are still sore from last time, Mister.”

You’re an eye-bat away from bolting, again, and it never works because he’s scarily good with a lasso, but you’re stupidly optimistic. Last time you’d gotten on his nerve he’d tied you up and hung you from the ceiling lamp of an old farmhouse, gagged as well, mind you, because you wouldn’t stop talking. At least, he’d been kind enough to take your shoes off so you could stretch your feet and keep the blood circulation going. The fact that he’d used you as a sentient coat hanger was less nice.

Then again, you’d gotten another dose of his scent while he’d had dinner by himself and ignored your existence for a good hour or two. It wasn’t all bad, or maybe it was but you were too dependent on him to protest against his unorthodox punishments.

“Ain’t no point.” he clicks his tongue and glosses over his canteen before tucking it away. “You don’ learn nothin’ cept how to complain harder.” he taps a gloved finger against the center of your forehead, forceful enough to have your neck tipping back and you scrambling for balance. “Thought you were supposed to be smart. How come nothin’ sticks in that lil skull o’ yours?”

“Mm, have you thought about maybe…” your eyes squint at his rough gesture and you pull away with a wince. “Maybe a nicer approach to your lessons, Mister?”

“Nice don’t keep you alive, Darlin’.” he doesn’t spare a breath before answering and after a moment you reluctantly nod.

His malignity and somber methods were a necessity both for your development and safety yet you wished it weren’t so. You wanted for a kinder world and less spilled blood and were likely one of many, but no one had the privilege of choosing what they were born into. Despite all ill circumstances, you were still lucky to be taken under the wing of an expert, taught how to survive by someone who’d lived so long and accumulated enough knowledge to fill a library.

It wasn’t peaches and marmalade up here, although you had a can of both stuffed somewhere in the depths of your backpack.

The hand which had been resting on his hip reaches for the hefty tato sack slumped next to his boot and he secures it over his shoulder before nudging his head towards the welcome sign.

“Les go.”

You’re hot on his heel, stomping down the mucky hill with acute prudence, your dress was already dirty, you didn’t need to add mud stains to the extensive collection.

The peaks and roofs of ramshackle buildings loom above the shabby fence surrounding the settlement, dyed in varieties of reds and yellows, some fully, others unfinished because there was no more paint to spare. The vegetation became sparse and the soil soon gave way to dusty gravel that crumbled delightfully under your boots. Once close enough for a better inspection, you notice the defensive walls are nothing more than plates and pieces of different scrap metal bolted together. A swirl of barbed wire is draped on the top and rotting pikes are sticking out from the base.

It wasn’t exactly the warm welcome you were expecting.

Anxiety and excitement kept you glued to the ghoul, mostly hidden behind his unfriendly frame. A meager excuse came up as a means to start up a conversation that might ease your quickening pulse and sweaty palms. You decided to keep the silence, though, opting to restrain your questions for a later time, when there was less tension built up on his shoulders and his fingers weren’t instinctively gliding over the handle of his pistol.

You heard the marketplace before you saw it. Your stomach flipped once you stepped beyond the open town gates, now being able to put faces to the buzzing chatter lingering in the air.

“Holy moly…” you gasp with brows raised high and your step falters.

It was busy.

After years of solitude and countless dreams of a normal pre-nuclear war life, after nearly a month in the company of a single man who preferred action over word, the reality of civilization crashed into you like a boiling wave. Hot prickles pinched at random places around your body, beads of sweat are already trickling from your armpits and your skin becomes clammy. With a heart lodged in your throat, you stumble forward, giving in to the ghoul’s rough tug on your wrist.

“Keep movin’.” his rasp fails this time, impossibly outmatched by the turbulence simmering inside you.

“Mm…sorry.” it’s an empty apology, insincere because he sees your eyes flitting and knees wobbling.

You never expected the settlement to be this…overwhelming.

Strangers are passing by and blending together in a jumbled blur of worn-out clothes and limbs. Carts are being rolled between the isles, restocking items as soon as they’re bought, and smoke lingers high above your head, amassed from chimneys, food booths, and cigarettes.

You find it difficult to breathe the more information your short-circuiting brain is forced to process.

“Get your RadAway right here good people! Three for the price of one – ”

“ – Cactus fruit for sale! Fresh out the – ”

“ – Bullets, guns and more bullets – ”

Stalls were huddled together, adorned with junk and trinkets, things you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And even if the owners already had at least one customer looking over their products, they still hollered at the crowd bustling around them. There’s a heavy stench in the air, of car oil and lack of hygiene, sweat and musk blending in with roasting meats that smell like no animal you’ve eaten before.

Shopkeepers had the doors to their establishments open, waving over weary wanderers with promises of a good time and helpful products.

“Stimpaaaks! Rad-X and more! Whatever your heart desires! Save a life! Buy a stimpaaak!”

You avoided eye contact, keeping your sights low and only skimming over the intricacies of the stands. The flood of strangers was cordial enough not to bump into you, but when a roasted cricket was shoved in your face and behind it a pair of foggy blue orbs stared right into your soul you recoiled.

“Ah, no thank you, Sir!” you give the merchant a wide apologetic smile and lift a hand to your mouth.

You latch onto the ghoul’s forearm when the merchant’s face falters for a split second before he’s already trying the unfortunate person behind you. For a moment there you’d thought he’d pounce on you, there was no telling considering the man looked half-dead.

“Aww, was wrong, Sweetheart?” your bodyguard barks out a laugh, sneering down at you. “Don’ want a cricket on a stick?”

You don a thin-lipped, unimpressed expression and detach yourself from him.

“I’ll stick to crackers and canned beans, thanks.”

His teasing tone unwittingly shook off a part of your anxiety. The overstimulation eases to a broiling irritation and most of the smells and sounds fade behind a wall of ignorance. You still sweat more than you’d like, but your pulse nestles back into a steady rhythm. You take a breath and squeeze your palms a few times, working through an alien mental exertion as your face settles with neutrality. 

“Suit yourself.” he snorts, guiding you towards a particular stand. “Dunno what you’re missin’ though.”

“Think I’d rather keep it that way.” you murmur under your breath and turn back for a more in-depth examination of the unappealing delicacy. “…Yeah.”

Bugs…Who eats fucking bugs?

There’s a steaming caldron propped up over a steady fire, but you can’t discern the scent and your upper lip is already twitching into a disgusted scowl. The owner has his elbows resting on the display counter, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled to just below his meaty biceps. His thick mustache spreads into a delighted smile and he abandons his hunched-over posture when he notices your uncanny duo approaching.

“Welcome! Browse at your leisure.”

“One o’ those.” the ghoul motions towards the cauldron and you’re ready to fight back nausea, anticipating a monstrous fiend turned snack to emerge.

You were wrong.

The man sinks a ladle inside the lively water and fishes out a potato.

“Oh.” you blurt without a second thought.

“What d’you think it was?” he tosses a few caps on the counter and plucks the boiled potato from the merchant’s ladle and you can’t help but grimace.

“At this point, nothing would surprise me.” you answer honestly, then cock your head with a face scrunched at the unnerving sight. “Doesn’t that sting? He just…y’know…took it out of the water?”

Does this man honestly have no pain receptors or is he just high again? Either way, you were left stunted every time he took a blow without a flinch. From bullets to hot potatoes, nothing could scathe him.

“ ‘S fine.” he blows away the steam and unfastens his hunting knife to cut a sizable piece from the top, then tosses it at you.

You catch it with a precious glint in your eye, graced with a bittersweet smile. Him willingly splitting food was a new addition, but an act you cherished fervently. A display of custody so fleeting and illusive it was unclear how intentional it was.

Then the heat finally registers and you’re forced to juggle the mushy piece between your hands.

The ghoul dips his half in the disturbed salt pile next to the fresh vegetable crate, and you mimic him once the potato has cooled enough to hold. He’s already moving and you follow closely behind while giving your treat a few more needed puffs and tapping off the excess salt.

“So what are we looking for now, Mister?” you ask and dodge bumping shoulders with a dazed old woman while adopting a steady tempo by his side. You’re looking up at him with wonder while sinking your teeth into the potato and he’s very tempted to lick his thumb and try to wipe off that incessant glee from your face.

“Trader’s shop.”

“Oh, right! For the Pip – ” a hand is harshly smacked over your mouth. He shakes his head curtly and his mouth dips into a short-lived frown; you clear your throat and nod in understanding.

Right…Everything from the vaults was considered a rare treasure on the surface. People were ready to kill for a single one of the items each of you was carrying. Caps flowed whenever a mint-condition lint roller was involved, let alone more practical things. And Pip-boys were at the top of the pyramid. They were priceless. Some would sacrifice a limb to get their hands on one because it meant they were settled for life.

You scan over the current of wanderers for any prying eyes but find none. It was too noisy; your words had been drowned out the moment they’d escaped.

Maybe you should try not to forget you aren’t living in a vault anymore…

You hold onto a wrinkle at the back of his coat as he cuts through the busy market, then wipe away the remnants of potato bits with the back of your hand.

Everything seems to have the same coat of decomposition to it, from the persons to the buildings, but it has a charm to it, it’s lively and somewhat welcoming.

Familiarizing your surroundings presents you with a feeling of peace and the anxiety is finally washed away for good. Well, as long as you keep reminding your self-centered doubt that nobody’s gawking at you or paying you any mind. You’re just a nobody lost in a sea of nobodies and you like it that way, just you and the ghoul minding your business, not being threatened or attacked or anything that would coerce you into taking action.

A safe haven. Finally.

A gargled moo pierces through the din of chitchat and your head snaps. And there, amidst the stalls a cow is lazily sloshing at a bucket of water while simultaneously rearing its snout around and sniffing the air because it has two freaking heads. It looks skinned, reminds you of your grumpy gunslinger and you can’t help but titter. You make a turn towards it, handholding with your nosiness. Then you reassure the concerned squeal at the back of your head that you’ll find your way back by the distinguishable cowboy hat sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd.

Just a closer look and then you’ll be right back by his side.

A two-headed cow. How fascinating!

Your escapade is short-lived. An iron grip takes hold of your backpack no more than five steps in and jerks you back. The strap digs into your throat and you gag with a backward blunder.

“Ehugh – ”

“ – The hell you think you’re goin’?”

The back of your head collides with a solid chest and you gaze up to meet an acquainted scolding face.

“The cow. It has two heads.” you answer candidly, blinking up at him, dumbfounded. “I – ” your lips purse as you briefly mull over your next sentence. “ – I wanted to see it up close?”

“ ‘S called a brahmin, Darlin’.” he’s unimpressed with your revelation, lets you go, and spares a brisk, disinterested glance at the mutated cow.

You dust off his crude gesture and smooth out your dress and backpack. His barbarian tactics are slowly losing their charm; he makes a mental note to up the ante in the future.

“How does it work though. With two heads?”

“Take one good look a’ me ‘n tell me if I’m a fuckin’ vet.” his arms are crossed over his chest, weight rested on one hip. You disregard his snappiness as your eyes roll from him back to the brahmin.

“Do they bite?” you know it’s probably a herbivore, but considering its disfigured state and the scarce vegetation along your journey, you have reason to consider other possibilities. With a palm placed on your waist, you tap a forefinger against your hipbone in thought. “Can I pet it?”

“No. Now move.” he grips your upper arm like a disgruntled father and drags you forward as you keep your neck craned to the side to stare at the cow over your shoulder. “Ain’t got all day.”

“But – ”

“ – You stray more than two feet away ‘n I’m puttin’ a leash on ya.” he hisses you into silence and presses onward, towards the last few remaining stands.

The thickness of the crowd lightens as you approach the end of the market. Once you manage to escape all the fuss and buzz you give a gentle pat to his wrist and he releases you with a warning grunt to keep close.

Given more room to note the architecture and structure of Tillburry, it reminds you of an old cowboy settlement rather than a pre-apocalypse town. The buildings are raised in such a peculiar array, all random and each one different. There are no traditional houses, per se, everything is turned into a business, from a shady hospital to a loud bar made guest house because even travelers need a bed sometimes. You see a few tire-ridden trailers, but even they have a makeshift sign plastered on the door offering services for caps.

A label scribbled with coal rests above the entrance to a two-story shack.

Trade & Barter – If it exists, we have them!

Mm…Maybe you could become the local English teacher, give the folk a few grammar lessons, put that multi-subject dossier in your head to the test. Make theory into reality and try your hand at machinery, build a lamp or do some testing and create a water purifier. From what you’ve read, it’s not that difficult, but the materials needed can range from tricky to impossible to scavenge.

You step onto the wooden porch of the trader’s shack, the bell above the door springs to life when the ghoul enters and you follow suit.

First things first, you had to figure out if you were going to continue travelling with him or if he was going to keep his word and let you settle here. There was a small chance he’d forgotten and if you didn’t mention it, he’d let you trudge along. Tillburry was a nice place, but you’d choose him over anything else if you had to pick.

“Evening good people!” a scrawny old man peaks from behind the counter accompanied by a symphony of metal clanks and a few curses. He dusts off his hands and plants them over the register with a crooked smile. “Mah name’s Hank. Now how can I help you lot?”

He eyes the ghoul in an odd manner, then you.

“Oh, it’s you…”

“Got another deposit t’ make, old man.” said ghoul slaps all five Pip-boys on the counter and rests on one of his elbows as he leans down. “Thousand caps up front, the rest every few months till you pay em in full.”

You have to squint when Hank’s eyes bulge out of his skull and he hastily stuffs the merchandise under his desk.

“You tryin’na get me robbed?!” he straightens to look over the windows then hunches down and continues with a hand cupped over the side of his mouth. “Where did you find so many?” he pauses then, a certain grimness to his face. “Never mind, don’t wanna know.”

Your vision is overflowing with all the junk strewn about, hanging off walls, stuffed in dusty display cases, over tables and windowsills, there’s items even on the floor. Most of it is weaponry and repair parts, a trinket here and there, a greasy comb, gold teeth, and a half-built robot of some sort. You lightly kick at a stray margarine cap abandoned on the floor, then stop when an elbow is roughly dug into your side.

 You spare your assailant a bitter glare while tenderly massaging away the pain, then click your tongue but relent at the curt “behave” you’re tossed back. 

The trader has the light strapped to his forehead shining down on the Pip-boys. He fiddles with each one briefly, turning the cog and testing the menus, then tries them all on his wrist to check the security of the straps. He’s humming, muttering something incoherent while evaluating the treasures from your vault.

“We doin’ business or not, Grandpa? They ain’t fucken’ fake.”

“I might be old, but I’m still a babe compared to you.” Hank spits back with surprising vigor and disappears under the counter. “Now have an ounce of patience you grumpy bastard. Gotta check em or else Imma be the one dealing with the consequences.”

“Sorry?” your attention darts back to the ghoul who’s suddenly avoiding eye contact. “How old did you say you were, Mister?”

“Ain’t you got junk t’ stare at?”

The remainder of his reply is cut short by a snort of a laugh erupting from behind the register.

“Oh, he’s ancient that one.” the trader resurfaces with an old plastic bag stuffed to the brim with caps, he ties it neatly and pushes it forward. “Been around since – ” he sputters, frozen solid as the edge of a hunting knife is pressed flush against the collar of his shirt. “Right…” he swallows once, then gently steers the blade away with the tips of his fingers. “Ain’t my story to tell, sorry Lil miss.”

“Sure ain’t.” the ghoul nods, lower lip slanted.

“Uhm…can I – ” you pipe in and set your backpack between the two before blood is spilled. “ – Can I trade too?”

“Sure you can.” Hank nudges towards you, hands clasped together and stubby fingers intertwined in silent anticipation for your upcoming offer. “Watchu trading?”

You’re rummaging through supplies, pushing away food cans and bottles of water until you reach the very bottom of the bag. You grip a thin, plastic wrapper and force it past the sea of provisions before showing your open palm to the trader.

“Is this worth anything?”

“Well, well.” he snatches the item and settles the glasses dangling from his neck on the bridge of his nose as he concentrates on the label. “Pristine condition too. You don’t see these around much anymore.”

“A toothbrush.” the gunslinger is scowling when you turn to look at him. “You brought a fuckin’ toothbrush?”

“Three actually. One for each of us and a spare in case I lost mine. Which reminds me!” you’re digging through the bag again briefly before plunging another packaged toothbrush into his face. “Here’s yours.”

He plucks the damn thing from your grasp while you keep up a sickly sweet smile, twirls it in his fingers and he would have been annoyed if he wasn’t already so thunderstruck.

“Why do you have to be like this…”

“Twenty-five caps.” the trader declares and stuffs the merchandise in his back pocket.

“Deal!” you exclaim and gather up the caps as soon as they’re set on the counter.

“Workin’ through your debt already, Sweetheart?”

You squint at the question and shuffle away from your interrogative companion. Your foot is already tapping incessantly against the floorboards, a dead giveaway.

“Yes?” you clear the lump in your throat and lift your nose towards a book hanging just above a display cabinet. “But also I wanted to buy – ”

“ – No.” short and stern, no wiggle room. “You ain’t wastin’ no caps on a damn book.”

“Why not? They’re my caps.” you ask, but are promptly ignored when he gives you a cold shoulder and turns back to Hank. You aren’t even graced with the courtesy of debate.

With a regretful look, you secure your backpack over your shoulder and give the tome a last, pained glance as you rub at your upper arm.

“Gimme five packs o’ Grey Tortoise too.”

Hank stacks the cigarette packs in the ghoul’s outstretched hand before leaning back with a nod, instigating the end of their trade.

“Good doing business, Cooper, now get the hell out before I go bankrupt.”

You snort before you realize it.

“Shit. Shit. Shit!”

Your body freezes and you’re looking straight ahead as your teeth clamp down on your lips. The laughter bubbles, pushing against your chest and throat and you barely manage to inhale a shaky breath.

“There somethin’ funny, Smooth-skin?” the ghoul, Cooper, tantalizingly engulfs you under his frame. Each hand is gripping the counter, on either side of you, as he forces his chest into your shoulder blades and leans down until his voice is right in your ears. “Hm?”

“No.” you rasp, and your jaw clenches immediately after as your vision blurs with tears and you’re fighting so hard not to fucking cackle. You’re suppressing yourself so violently that you’re shaking. “No, Sir.”

His name is fucking Cooper. The deadly gunslinger, the boogeyman, the ruthless killer, the zombie cowboy. Cooper…

You can’t breathe.

“I’m gonna…Gonna wait outside, Sir.” you proclaim with a strained voice and slip out of his dangerous embrace, ducking under his armpit and heading towards the exit with stiff footing.

After securing the caps and cigarettes in his bandolier, he’s ready to follow, but a curt whistle from Hank stops him and he turns back to see the man waving him over. Already lacking patience for the upcoming exchange, he sighs and spares you a once-over to make sure you’re out of ear reach, and then he’s back at the counter, glaring.

“Go on.”

You shift to the left of the door, leaning back against the windowsill and leaving your backpack to rest between your feet. The world is slowly dimming, crickets deftly chip in the distance and it would have been pleasant if you hadn’t known they can grow as big as your arm. A few people pass by, scuttling towards either their homes or the bar opposite of where you stand. Besides a muffled murmur, there’s nothing you can catch from the conversation and curiosity gnaws at your gut, but you don’t have the courage to peek inside the shop and risk getting caught. A steady whizz as the minutes pass by, you don’t care for being left out, there’s already too much you’ve witnessed and endured that you wished you never had.

An abrupt rise in octaves catches your attention and your eyes flick to the side. Something in their exchange wasn’t going right, a topic was unraveled that was acrid for both parties and you curse at your limited hearing for being unable to catch any particular words.

A storm comes out the door that nearly knocks the bell off and startles you. You step back to avoid him in his blind fury, a distinct “oof” escaping you when the book is blindly thrust into your stomach. The sun has sunken, and an array of moths flutter around the swaying light bulb above the trader’s entrance and despite Cooper’s soured mood, you’re happy to have him back. Plus, he’d relented and gotten you the book, either he or the shopkeeper had pitied you enough to hand it over.

You’re dancing around him like a butterfly, the title “The Count of Monte Cristo” bouncing in and out of sight as you twirl the tome around.

The bar is well-lit, Christmas lights hang from the windows and roof, and he’s headed straight toward it. The atmosphere is unpleasant, whatever discussion he’d had with Hank had left a sour taste on his tongue, pinched some nerve that you could only guess.

“Thanks, Mister.” you try with a soft note and secure your present under your armpit for safekeeping, hoping a little sugarcoating might help ease his frustration. “I’ll cherish it forever.”

He pays you no mind, not even when you pinch the sleeve of his coat to keep in toon with his hasty stride.

“I like your name.” you peep through the mingling silence and glance up to find a strained expression and a sharp glare directed away from you. Your smile does nothing and falters quickly.

There’s a gap there, one that didn’t exist until you left him to converse in private with the old trader. The lingering question of whether you’re staying here or going with him is dismissed for the moment despite the time you have together ticking away. There’s malice building on his features the longer he stays locked away in his head and your words drift past him without effect.

“Mister?”

No response.

It’s when you wrap a hand around his wrist just as he’s about to burst into the bar that he stops.

You release a breath and ignore your skittish nature yanking at you to run, or apologize and hope for the best. There’s a clog in your throat and you feel the air becoming harder to intake, but that doesn’t stop you.

“Whatever he said isn’t true.” your eyes search the display of shells fitted over his chest, then flick up to find his. “You’re not a bad man, Cooper.”

It’s a shot in the dark because you don’t know what was said or done. But this is better than leaving him to sulk. He gets to know that you’ll stick by him no matter what happens. You’ll be there, even if the whole world turns against him, he’ll have someone who will stand by him.

“I’m a rotten man, Sweet pea.” his gaze is steady as he replies. He doesn’t believe you and not because you’re naively spewing words of comfort, but because he’s seen a lot more than you. He remembers the things he’s done and will keep doing and he knows himself well and you’re just plain wrong. “You jus’ don’ know it yet.”

“You’re a survivor.” you repost, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “And we’re all a little rotten inside.”

He rests a hand on your head, then moves to slump an arm around your shoulders and puffs out a breath. He’s not up for such a conversation, not now, not with you.

You don’t know him, not really. You don’t know that his vials are running dangerously low while your presence is turning into a solid option to get more. There’s a good reason he’s kept you safe and barely scathed and it’s not a measly three hundred caps.

And you hadn’t done anything to deserve such a fate, but his life came before yours, a rule of survival that you’d never learn.

Hank had had his suspicions the moment he’d laid eyes on you, but it wasn’t his business and despite having grown soft from decades living in a settlement, he had no right to dictate how others survived in the wasteland.

It might be cruel to keep you in the dark while your life is being weighed by a constantly shifting scale, but the ghoul would rather you enjoy the time you have left. Maybe they’d be kind and sedate you before harvesting your organs and you’d remember him as the hero he wasn’t, or maybe you’d grow a brain and stay in Tillburry. At least now he has the caps to buy off two large whiskey bottles and wash away the image of your face when struck with betrayal.

He was a survivor, you’d said so yourself, he did what he had to do, but that stupid conversation and Hank’s stupid expression wouldn’t budge from the back of his eyelids.

“What’re you gonna do if she doesn’t stay here though?”

“There’s always Super Duper Mart.”

“Oh, by the way.” your voice is a spark in the void of hopelessness, ripping him out of the maze of thoughts he’d unwittingly fallen into. He leads you through a haze of clinking tankards and lively, drunken chatter, a heavy smog of cigarette smoke that makes your nose wrinkle, and dim lighting to hide people’s identities. But you’re just happy to be with him and it’s visible by the perky smile on your lips. It’s painful to look at. “My name is – ”

“ – Don’t.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

<<< Chapter 5

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[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Heya, welcome back and hope you did good in your exam. Now it's time for the request ! I don't think I have seen people made isekai x self-aware fic before so here we go: You were playing CRK while you are on your way to school but then- Truck-kun: Yo wassup bro! Now you are in the world of Cookie Run but you are in Beast-Yeast and to make it worse, you are in middle of the warzone between Shadow Milk and our heroes. You think you are screwed but you still have your phone and it can summon cookies in the phone. They know you are the Baker but the world you got isekai'ed don't even know who you are. So you got an idea how to help the heroes in this world. Here's the headstart: (gonna use my team lineup i guess) Shadow Milk: You're finished, Old Fool ! White Lily: Elder Faerie, no ! ???: Do not stand in my way! / Witness destruction! *SMilk's ATK blocked* Shadow Milk: W-what!? WHO DARE INTERRUPT ME!!? ???: It is futile to resist the inevitable, Shadow Milk Cookie... Shadow Milk: Mystic Flour Cookie? Burning Spice Cookie? What is the meaning of this!? And why are you helping that Old Fool!? Burning Spice: Well, well, well, Shadow Milk Cookie. Look like I will have to fight you by the order of our Baker. This will be entertaining!!! Dark Cacao (Dragon Lord): Hmph! Your reign of chaos will end here, you foul beast! Elder Faerie: What is going on? Why are the Beasts fighting each other? ???: We will talk about it later, Elder Faerie. Right now, our top priority is to stop Shadow Milk Cookie and seal the tree. Pure Vanilla: W-what...!? Gingerbrave/Wizard Cookie/Strawberry Cookie: Is that- White Lily: M-me!? White Lily (Moonflower Faerie): Shadow Milk Cookie, I have sealed you once and now I will do it again. Let us fight together and seal the tree once and for all, other me. You can continue here from now on. Can't find any help from Cream Ferret Cookie in this scene so uhh yea lol. Part 2 will be about the reader but that will leave it to your decision.

You also started pretty strong with what you've already provided to me but I'll see what I can do. (Still- tf you doing with those kinda cookies in your team??? at least there's no Awakened GC but still, you scare me)

The ball's in your court

Shadow Milk cookie: What in the ever-lasting witches oven is going on here?! Where did you guys even come from?!

Mystic Flour cookie: Knowing where we come from is of no use to you. It'd be of best interest to surrender and spare yourself the humiliation of defeat.

Dark Cacao cookie: I must agree with her. If you choose to fight us now, you will face an inevitable defeat.

The team of cookies prepare for any oncoming attack from the jester, earning even more baffled expressions from both him and the heroes he was fighting moments ago. Strawberry cookie and Wizard cookie are both slightly behind Gingerbrave, who in turn is clutching his weapon tightly. There were two other beasts- number one. There were two white lily cookies, number two. And WHO THE HECK IS THAT PERSON STANDING OVER THERE WITH A PHONE AND ALMOST SMUG EXPRESSION???

Strawberry cookie: Seriously- what is happening?!

White Lily cookie: If I knew I'd tell you, trust me.

Gingerbrave: Does this always happen in beast yeast?!

Elder Faerie: no! In all my years of being the guardian I've never seen anything like this happen!

Pure Vanilla cookie: Dark Cacao cookie, my friend! What are you doing here?!

Dark Cacao cookie (dragon lord) : It is a long story that can be explained after the defeat of this beast.

Moonflower faerie: Shadow Milk cookie, surrender now or face a bitter defeat.

Burning Spice cookie: It'll save everyone the time and the energy if you do so. However, I'm not opposed to the chances of a entertaining fight!

Still in a state of shock, Shadow Milk cookie's face contorted into pure rage upon seeing his so-called "Friends" siding with his enemies. All the while Y/N stood to the side, trying to control themselves from giggling like a maniac that this was happening.

Shadow Milk Cookie: Traitors! Both of you! You think I will lose to a bunch of lowlife weak imbeciles?! I don't even need Pinkie and Saltie to deal with you! When I'm through with you not even the witches will remember your existence!

With that, the battle began, leaving the heroes on the side watching the fight in complete bafflement.

Wizard Cookie: Do.... do we help them or....

Elder Faerie: Part of me tells me they won't need it.

???: And that part of you is correct!

All six cookies turned to look at the source of the voice in unison, seeing a new cookie holding a phone and grinning like a maniac.

Gingerbrave: Gah?! Who are you?!

Y/N cookie: You may call me Y/N. Or the baker if you prefer.

All the cookies jaws dropped as they stared at you wide-eyed. Even Carameleon Cookie stopped camouflaging on ginderbrave's head for a moment before disappearing immediately. The baker? The baker was HERE?! Is that the reason for the new fighters jut spawning out of nowhere?

White Lily cookie: The Baker?! As in-THE ACTUAL BAKER?! H-how?!

Y/N cookie: It's a long story that even I myself don't know, but I'll try explain it as best I can.

Just then, the commotion from the fight gets louder.

Moonflower Cookie: A LITTLE ASSISTANCE WOULD BE APPRECIATED BAKER!

Y/N cookie: Yeah.... you might wanna go help other you, White Lily cookie.

White Lily cookie: A- wha- me?!

Y/N cookie: Yeah... plus I think other you is about to crumble soon and frankly I don't want that.

Y/N cookie says this as they look at their phone screen, seeing the impact on the team was getting dangerously high. Maybe Shadow Milk cookie was just mad enough to increase his ATK strength. Well you can't have that happening.

Y/N cookie: MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE- DO YOUR JOB!

Mystic Flour cookie: You put me as the only healer on this team, add someone else.

Y/N cookie sighs, not entirely blaming Mystic Flower cookie that she couldn't heal everyone. Just cuz she's the best doen't mean she's perfect. Despite the powerful cookies you had, seems like Shadow Milk cookie had become more aggressive, so regardless of who's on your team it was a 50/50 fight. You turn to the cookies who weren't fighting.

Y/N cookie: So- can you go help them Pure Vanilla? Please?

Pure Vanilla cookie: I-.... hm... alright then. But I hope to be getting an explanation to all of this more thoroughly when I return.

White Lily cookie: I'll help as well.

The two head into the battle field.

Y/N cookie: sooooo, do y'all wanna- like, help them orrrr

Elder Faerie: I will, as it is my duty as the guardian of the seal.

Y/N cookie: Aight, cool.

Elder Faerie cookie goes off to join the others in battle, leaving Y/N cookie standing with the three other cookies.

Y/N cookie: Y'all don't wanna join?

Gingerbrave: I... think I'm good.

Strawberry cookie: I second that.

Wizard Cookie: I third it.

Y/N cookie: 'kay. Just hope Elder Faerie don't die this time.

All three: What?-

Y/N: Nothing :3

[hbowarbabes]

Living to See Another Day Pt. 4

John "Bucky" Egan x Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are found unconscious in the middle of a forest. They are taken by two German officers, both getting separated upon arrival at the transit camp. Now being in front of an all-too-relaxed interrogator, Bucky is unsure of where he’ll go, or if he and Y/n will be reunited again.

Warnings: Violence, and overall disturbing topics based in episode 6 of mota

Words: 3.9k

Previous

• • •

As Bucky and Y/n lay bruised and unconscious in the middle of the dense forest, the sounds of leaves rustling and wind blowing were the only things to break the silence. They remained there for what had to be longer than an hour since it was still daylight.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the forest was shattered by the aggressive shouts of two German officers.

Y/n's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her muscles ached badly, and she couldn’t find the strength within herself to stand up.

Before she could turn her head and see who was there, she felt the cold metal tip of a rifle poking her in the back, causing her whole body to tensen up.

With a jolt, Bucky was kicked over onto his back by one of the officers, his eyes fluttering open groggily. The other officer kept a pistol pointed directly at Y/n's head, the threat of violence looming heavily in the air. Y/n's heart raced as she tried to process the gravity of their situation. They were caught once again with no way out.

Bucky struggled to sit up, his head spinning from the impact of being beaten back in the town.

His eyes locked onto Y/n's, a silent fear lingering in them. Both of them knew that much worse things would be awaiting them.

The officers barked orders in German, their harsh tones sending a surge of panic within Y/n.

Left with no choice, Y/n and Bucky stood up, following the officers to wherever they would be taken.

• • •

Faces still covered in blood and bruises, Y/n and Bucky now sat in the backseat of a car. Next to Y/n, one of the guards sat, staring at her with a threatening glare.

The two of them sat in silence, their hands bound to their side’s as they were being escorted to an unknown destination by two German officers. 

The trees blurred past the windows of the car as it sped down the dirt road, the sound of the engine drowning out any chance of conversation between anyone in the vehicle.

Y/n's mind wandered to their close call with death in that city. She remembered the way Bucky had tried keeping her from getting harmed. The image of him getting beat and the other men being slaughtered wouldn’t leave her mind.

The last thing she remembered was rushing to Bucky’s side before she was knocked out.

In the forest, where they had never felt more vulnerable, they stuck together. Y/n was beginning to feel hopeful about the situation between her and Bucky.

Now, sitting side by side in the back of the car, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. If only they had talked, she thought. If only they had put their feelings aside and just forgave each other.

But now it was too late. They were going to some place they didn’t know, with their fate still in question. The idea of ever getting back to England seemed so distant now. 

Bucky sat with his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He too had recalled that moment in the forest when he and Y/n had come so close to being together. And now, all it would become was a memory. One they might never have the opportunity to build on.

If he were able to speak, he would’ve said so much to Y/n. He would’ve held her and kissed her and told her that everything would be ok. But what good would lying do for them?

For now, it was best that they be realistic and not break any rules. From there and beyond, they had no rights. They had no freedom.

• • •

Dulag Luft Prisoner of War Transit Camp,

Frankfurt, Germany

Y/n sat alone in the cold, dark room. She could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing, the silence weighing heavily on her. She missed Bucky desperately and wished she could see his face again. Even if he was only a room away, it still felt like he was too far for Y/n.

The room was small and cramped, with only a tiny window high up on the wall letting in a sliver of dim light. Y/n shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She could see her breath in the chill air, a stark reminder of just how isolated and helpless she felt.

She had been separated from Bucky when they were being led down the halls of the transit camp. Bucky shot her a subtle grin. It was a genuine one.

“I love you, Y/n!” He shouted as the two were being led into different parts of the dimly-lit hall.

“John-” The guard aggressively yanked Y/n’s arm away from Bucky as she tried to reach for him, causing her to be slammed against the wall.

It didn’t matter; woman or not, they were still going to treat her as a prisoner.

Bucky tried to help Y/n, but he too was held back, pushed against the ground by the guard.

“Macht schnell!” “Hurry up!” The guard shouted at Y/n, forcing her to continue as if Bucky wasn’t just thrown to the ground.

The last time she saw him, he was being dragged away to a room right across from hers by the aggressive guard. It helped ease Y/n nerves, knowing he wasn’t far. But not for long.

Now, all she could do was wait. Wait for the uncertainty of what would happen next, wait for any sign of hope that she would see Bucky again. But the minutes stretched on endlessly, each one blending into the next in a monotonous haze of despair.

Y/n tried to keep herself busy, pacing back and forth in the small room. She counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours, trying to stave off the gnawing feeling of fear and loneliness that threatened to consume her.

She felt like she was going crazy even though she had only stayed in that room for what would be longer than an hour. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that settled in the pit of her stomach.

She longed for Bucky's strong arms around her, for his reassuring presence to chase away the darkness that clung to her like a shroud.

Y/n eventually gave up trying to convince herself that she’d see him again, and fell back in the weak seat behind her, leaning her head against the cold wall. She still felt the pain in her head, but it had felt a little less sore as she started to get used to it. The feeling of pain.

• • •

“Major Egan, come in.” 

Bucky was pushed into the room where his interrogator sat, sounding extremely calm given the situation. It had to be an act. Bucky could feel that this man’s intentions were far from genuine.

Taking a quick glance behind him, Bucky watched as the officers who had dragged him into that room slammed the door shut.

“I am your interrogator, Lieutenant Hausmann. Please, sit.” The interrogator’s eyes motioned to the empty chair in front of his desk.

Just as Bucky got settled in the chair, Hausman stood up.

“Can I pour you a whiskey?”

His eyes went wide in confusion. “How could this man be acting so nice?” He wondered. Either way, Bucky went along with it. It wasn’t like he had an option.

“Thanks.” Bucky commented dryly, a feeling of unease settling within him.

As he looked up at the wall in front of him, he noticed the picture of Hitler sitting neatly on the wall. How one man could cause so much damage was beyond Bucky’s understanding.

Hausmann brought two glasses, both filled barely halfway. Handing the glass to Bucky, the interrogator held a grin that was almost intimidating. Something felt off, but Bucky just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Here’s, uh, mud in your eye.” Bucky made the toast to himself before consuming the much needed drink.

The liquid burned his throat, but he welcomed the warmth spreading through his body. He didn’t know how much he missed it up until now.

Hausmann, still with his glass in his hand, watched as Bucky downed his drink.  Hausmann simply grinned, his mouth wrinkling at the corners. His other features remained still, almost as if he wasn’t even real.

“I don’t know that one.”

Breaking out of his motionless manner, he held his glass up.

“Here’s mud in your eye.”

After having a taste of the whiskey, Hausmann slowly set his glass down on the table, then bringing his attention to the pile of papers on his desk. He grabbed the thin file on top, centering it as he scanned the writing on the file.

“So . . .where shall we begin?”

“How about I was in a town and, um, someone shot four of the guys with me.” Bucky spoke in a gruff voice, his head hanging low as he avoided eye contact with the interrogator.

“Oh, my God. What town?” Hausmann put on the concerned act, still keeping his face stern and still.

“Rüssheim, something. I don’t know-”

“Rüsselsheim.” The interrogator cut in, already familiar with the city Bucky was referring to.

“That’s tragic. I will add it to the report.” There was no sincerity in Hausmann’s tone or his demeanor. He reached for a pen and some paper.

“Your colleagues, the ones who were killed, if you give me their names and rank, I can pass it on to-”

“I don’t know their names. We just happened to be put together.” Bucky was growing more suspicious of Hausmann’s tactics.

“Look, I appreciate the drink and, um, would really appreciate a thicker blanket, but as far as what you’re gonna get from me, it’s gonna be name, rank, and serial-”

“And serial number. Yours is O-399510. Yes, I already know that.” A smug grin was plastered across Hausmann’s face as Bucky’s head shot up.

“I also know you were born in Manitowoc, Wisconsin.”

Hausmann began flipping through the pages in the file and reading off whatever information was stated in Bucky’s file. That did not sit well with Bucky. 

“Married?”

Bucky remained silent, his jaw clenching at the fear that this man might try to do something to Y/n if he even thought to mention her. But there was no need to think about it.

“From what I hear, you’ve been accompanied by your partner, Y/n y/l/n, yes?”

The sound of her name nearly brought Bucky inches from grabbing the interrogator by the throat. He had to remain calm. Not just for himself, but for Y/n. He didn’t want them to hurt her, or worse- kill her.

“We spoke. She’s. . . different from the many pilots I have encountered. Not the most cooperative.”

On the inside, Bucky prayed that Y/n didn’t sign her death wish during her interrogation. But he also wanted to laugh at the thought of Y/n arguing with Hausmann. She always had a rebellious streak in her since Bucky had known her.

“Female pilots are not common these days. She must have a lot to bring to the table, even with an attitude like hers.” As the interrogator chuckled in a mocking manner, Bucky could feel his fists clenching up.

Hausmann continued to the next page of the file, repeating all information put down.

“Squadron, 418th. Group, the 100th Bomber Group. H for Heavy. Headquartered at Thorpe Abbotts.”

Bucky couldn’t stand Hausmann’s scheming approach. Not knowing what to hear next, he watched as the interrogator continuously flipped through pages, eventually coming to a pause.

Hausmann brought his eyes away from the file and on to Bucky, holding the same devious grin that he had been putting on the whole time they had talked.

“Are you a baseball fan, Major?”

Bucky kept his stoic expression, not allowing his eyes to meet Hausmann’s.

“Certainly that’s not a national secret.”

Hausmann reached for a carton of cigarettes laying next to his empty whiskey glass as he smirked deceitfully.

“Cigarette?”

He held the open carton out in front of Bucky, urging him to take one for himself. Unsuspecting, Bucky took a cigarette.

As he brought the cigarette to his lips, Hausmann stood up from his chair, taking out a lighter. Bucky leaned forward, allowing the interrogator to light his cigarette.

“Sorry they are not as good as your American brands. Lucky Strike is my personal preference.” Hausmann sat back down, still keeping his eyes glued on Bucky as he took a puff of his cigarette.

“Baseball is still a bit of a mystery to me,” The interrogator was quick to change the subject.

“With all the sticks and bases, running in circles. Hausmann’s eyebrows shot up as he shook his head.

“There was the big championship last week, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, the World Series.” Bucky didn’t sound eager to discuss the topic of sports. This wasn’t something he would really consider an interrogation. There were just a plethora of topics, along with some pieces of personal information being brought up. Nothing more. But what was it that this man really wanted to know?

“Yes, the World Series,” Hausmann nodded to himself, laughing dryly. “The New York Yankees versus the St. Louis Cardinals. A rematch, yes?”

“We were up two games to one when I went down.”

“So you are a Yankees fan?” He watched Bucky with a wicked grin.

“Would you like to know the outcome of the World Series?”

Bucky's eyes narrowed slightly, a look of annoyance visible on his face. He knew that Hausmann was fishing for information, trying to break him down with small talk and false camaraderie.

“Was Buck Cleven a Yankees fan?”

Bucky’s breathing began to quicken as he grew more angered by the mention of his best friend. How did they know every little detail of his life? Was there anything they didn’t know?

“No? Yes?”

Silence.

“I hear he was quite a flyer.”

Extending his arm across the desk, Hausmann grabbed a newspaper, revealing the newspaper under it with the headline “Eighth air force smashed Bremen.” Bucky recognized it instantly. That was the last mission Buck had went on when he went missing.

“I read of his exploits in the Regensburg attack. He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

The interrogator’s eyes skimmed over the newspaper, and moved back to the pilot who had now had all the little aspects of his life exposed. Grinning strongly on one side of his mouth, Hausmann’s eyes burned into the front of Bucky’s head.

 Bucky met Hausmann's gaze, a sense of rage building up against him.

“It seems we’re shooting down all the good pilots.”

Not wanting to hear the interrogator’s comments, Bucky started fiddling with his cigarette.

“Did you know that on your Münster attack, only one of your planes returned?” Hausmann brought about the news with little sympathy in his voice.

He stuck his index finger up, subtly grinning.

“One.”

Bucky was in disbelief. Out of 17 aircrafts and one made it? He only wondered who the sole survivors were. They got lucky. Much luckier than him, at least.

“But back to you, Major Egan.” Scanning the page on his file, Hausmann’s grin quickly faded.

“I regret to inform you that you are, as you say, in a bit of a pickle.”

Bucky knew what he was here for. For news of going back to England or far from Germany would be near impossible. Whatever news he would get would be a punishment nonetheless.

“We know you were originally apprehended near Ostbevern . . .but we don’t have you in any record as a crew member on any of the planes from the Münster attack. The Gestapo would say that makes you a spy.”

“They would be mistaken.” Bucky denied everything. The words coming out of his mouth were nothing but the truth.

“One thing I can tell you, Major, the Gestapo is never mistaken.” Hausmann smirked proudly as Bucky looked him dead in the eyes, no longer wanting to hear him and his good-guy act.

“So, I need verification of your group, your squadron, and your plane so that I can confirm to them that you are indeed what you say you are.”

Bucky took a puff of his cigarette, inhaling deeply.

“John Egan. Major. O-399510.” He repeated the information once more. Hausmann inhaled sharply, his demeanor going from calm and contained all to irritated.

“Major. . . may I say that you’re not doing yourself any favors?”

Once again, silence.

“The Gestapo, they are different than me. Me. I’m like you: A flyer, a man of honor. And I can understand things in a way that perhaps my colleagues from the highly indoctrinated security forces might not.”

Bucky was having none of it.

“I’d like to talk to you about Buck Cleven, John. . . but I’d like you to talk to me as well. The number of replacement B-17s expected at Thorpe Abbotts next week, for example.”

“John Egan. Major. O-399510.” Bucky swallowed thickly as he had refused to give up any information that could be useful to them.

The room fell silent as the interrogator's mask of tranquility slipped away, revealing the cold, calculating man beneath. Hausmann's eyes narrowed as he realized that Bucky was not going to give in, and that no amount of threats or promises could force the information out of him.

“I see.”

• • •

Y/n quickly shot up from the cold bench of her room as officers burst in, shouting in an aggressive manner. An officer grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her out into the hall, along with many other airmen.

As she walked down the hall, she watched as airmen were thrown out of their rooms, almost hitting the ground as they were shoved out.

Y/n felt someone stumble into her, almost knocking her to the ground. Turning her head, she saw the one face she thought she might never see again. It was Bucky.

Bucky grabbed Y/n’s hand without hesitation, pressing a kiss to her head as they continued to move out.

“Hey, careful- my head still hurts.” Y/n chuckled dryly, bringing her hand to her temple.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, John,” Y/n wrapped her hand around Bucky’s wrist, her eyes glimmering as she looked into his. “It’s gonna be okay-”

She was cut off instantly as officers pushed and shouted at the two, forcing them to move out of the building.

• • •

At the rail yard, men jumped into the train one by one. All of them were kept in a tight formation, an unorganized line of people bumping into one another every second.

Y/n continued to hold onto Bucky’s hand, trying not to get lost among the many men who would be riding with them. The two had to stick together.

As Bucky was pushed up onto the train by an officer, he immediately extended his hand to Y/n, helping her up onto the train, where the floor was covered in filth and was slippery enough for one to fall.

Bucky continued to help the other men onto the train, helping to speed up the process as many had struggled to get on by themselves, many of those individuals being injured.

The officers kept pushing men closer to the train, shouting at their faces in words none of them could understand.

The loud echo of another train across the way caught everyone’s attention. As they all turned their heads, the desperate screams and cries began to fill the air.

Bucky and Y/n watched in horror as the people in the crammed boxcar seemed to be crying for help, all of them reaching their arms out through the slats.

Even as the boxcar passed, none of the men getting on the train could shake the image out of their heads. They had never seen anything like this before.

“In! Now! In! In!” An officer shouted at the remaining men on the ground to keep going. Bucky got back to helping the last of the men who hadn’t gotten on the train.

Just then, one man tried to make a run from the train, but was immediately shot by an officer before he could get far enough away. Many bullets were shot at the man, causing him to die instantly.

Everyone on the train watched in shock as they witnessed the killing of the innocent man, whose life ended within seconds.

The officer continued to shout as if nothing had happened.

As the last of the men were being helped onto the train, one officer started to shout at Bucky and point his finger in his face. Bucky shot the man a dirty look as he knew he had done nothing wrong.

An officer walked towards the train, the dead man who had been shot hanging over his back. He aggressively dropped the man onto the filthy train floor, leaving him with everyone else.

Y/n looked at the dead man on the ground as the officer slid the door of the train shut, leaving the inside of the train dark.

Now they would be going to their destination with a bunch of men and a dead body for god only knew how long.

• • •

The screeching sound of the train brakes filled the air as Bucky and Y/n arrived at their destination, which would most likely be their final.

After hours of being in the train with no light and no fresh air, the door slid open. Bright lights shone in their faces, almost blinding them.

They were immediately welcomed by the aggressive barking of two German shepherds, along with long lines of angry officers, all shouting at them.

One by one, they each jumped out of the train.

Bucky went before Y/n, and she jumped out after him, keeping a close distance to him as they couldn’t hold hands out in the open where their every move could be seen.

• • •

Luftwaffe-Controlled Stalag Luft III,

Sagan, Germany

October 17, 1943

Exhausted and weak, the POWS were reaching their destination. They had walked for hours. To Y/n, it all felt like a fever dream. She couldn’t imagine herself doing this. It was only months ago that she was living a carefree life in the states.

Two officers quickly opened the gates, revealing the many men already there. As they walked through the gates of the camp, the POWs who were already there began to line up against the wired fences to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals.

The camp was surrounded by high wired fences, with guard towers looming over them ominously.

Y/n caught up with Bucky, now standing next to him as they both searched for any familiar faces.

It was instant when Bucky had recognized one of the men.

“Johnny! John! Y/n!”

“Egan! Y/l/n!” They heard their names, but couldn’t see their faces.

“Hey, Johnny! Y/n!”

Y/n and Bucky continued to hear their names being shouted, still not knowing who was calling them. But knowing that someone recognized them left Y/n relieved. 

“Bucky! Y/n! Over here!”

Just then, they both caught sight of their old crew members, all shouting and waving at them, full of excitement. Y/n thought they had all disappeared. But she felt better knowing they were all alive, and together.

“Crank!” Bucky shouted, his face lighting up.

“You made it!”

“Murph! Glen!” 

Bucky happily shouted the names of his crew members, whom were standing together.

“Hey! Any of you know if Buck made it?” Bucky asked urgently, scanning the faces of his crew, hoping one of them had some information about his friend.

“What?” Crank shouted, unable to hear him.

“I said Buck-” 

Before he could ask again, a familiar voice called out to him.

 "John Egan! Your two o’clock."

Bucky's heart skipped a beat as he saw Buck standing on the other side of the wire fence. Relief flooded through him as he and Y/n passed by the person that had been presumed missing. He was alive.

“What took you two so long?” Buck grinned from ear to ear.

This had been the one of many times that Y/n saw Bucky smile. She missed seeing that smile so much.

“Welcome to Stalag Luft III, boys,” A man standing behind the fence shouted.

Being led by the officers into the camp, no one could speak to their friends and old crew. Everyone’s smiles faded instantly as the reality of their situation sunk in. They were officially prisoners of war.

[tkdb-hell]

Little Mini Thing about my oc Zero's unrequited crush on Subaru with some Sho/Subaru mixed in

OC CONTENT! If you're not interested in that, just skip this post ♡

Just my Luck

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light over Darkwick’s campus. Zero Yōgai sauntered toward Highway to Home, hands shoved deep into his pockets, hoping for a chance to catch Subaru Kagami alone. He hadn’t planned on running into Subaru today—it was one of those spontaneous urges he got, like maybe, just maybe, the universe might cut him some slack for once.

Yeah, right. Like that ever happens.

He was almost at the food truck when he saw Subaru already there, standing at the counter and chatting with Sho Haizono. Zero paused, instinctively taking a step back and slipping behind a nearby tree. He wasn’t spying. He was… observing. Yeah, that sounded better.

Subaru looked as calm and composed as ever, a small, polite smile gracing his face. He had that natural, effortless charm Zero found maddeningly attractive. Meanwhile, Sho, ever the laid-back delinquent, leaned casually against the counter, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. From Zero's angle, it looked like a typical exchange, nothing special—until Subaru laughed.

Not his usual polite chuckle, but an actual, genuine laugh. The kind that lit up his whole face, making his eyes crinkle at the edges.

Zero's heart gave an uncomfortable twist. “Oh, fuck me,” he muttered under his breath.

He didn’t need his probability-warping Stigma to figure out where this was going. He could already feel the sinking weight in his gut, the familiar sensation of reality smacking him in the face. Subaru wasn’t just being polite with Sho. He was into him.

Sho, of all people. The multitalented Vagastrom jack-of-all-trades who could cook, fight, and charm his way through any situation without breaking a sweat. Zero felt a pang of frustration—and maybe a little envy—because, of course, Subaru would be into someone like that. Someone who wasn’t constantly sabotaged by their own Stigma.

He clenched his fists in his pockets, forcing himself to take a steady breath. It wasn’t like he had a chance to begin with. Subaru was kind to everyone, and Zero had probably just misread things because he wanted to see something that wasn’t there. Typical. His luck had a way of turning hope into disappointment in record time.

As Subaru thanked Sho and took his food, Kōji made a decision. He’d go up, grab something to eat, and act like nothing was wrong. No point in sulking. If Subaru was happy, that was what mattered, right? Even if it wasn’t with him.

He stepped out from behind the tree, plastering on a casual grin as he approached the truck. Sho noticed him first. “Yo, Kōji. Eggplant parm again?” Sho grinned, knowing full well Zero's ongoing, hopeless campaign to get him to make it.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Zero said, rolling his eyes. “Just gimme whatever you’ve got ready.”

As Sho started prepping his order, Subaru turned to Zero, still holding his food. “Kōji, I didn’t expect to see you here. How have you been?”

“Same old, same old,” Zero replied, keeping his tone light. “Trying not to let my Stigma ruin my day, you know how it is.” He added a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Subaru smiled softly, his usual warmth evident. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you make it sound.”

Zero wanted to believe that, but right now, all he could focus on was how close Subaru had stood to Sho, how easily they had laughed together. He shrugged it off with a laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

Their conversation didn’t last long. Subaru waved goodbye after a few more pleasantries, leaving Zero alone with his thoughts as Shohei handed over his food.

“You good, man?” Sho asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed Zero's unusually quiet demeanor.

Zero gave a half-hearted grin. “Yeah, just thinking.” He took his food and turned away before Sho could press further.

As he walked back toward Sinostra, he couldn’t help but feel the familiar sting of disappointment. Maybe he should’ve known better than to hope for something more. But even so, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder—what if, just once, his luck could turn around?

“Keep dreaming, Zero,” he muttered to himself. “Keep dreaming.”

[rainbowfey]

Day 2: "Left. Other left!" @flufftober

Several thoughts raced through Sanemi‘s head, all of them competing for his attention, when he hastened towards the Ubuyashiki Estate. Of course, the most pressing question was why he had been summoned by Oyakata-sama. The Kasugai crow had refused to give him any explanation for this sudden invitation and even though Sanemi had threatened to catch it and cook it under the grill, the crow had kept its beak shut. Thus, he had no idea what to expect and this circumstance was something that he deeply disliked. While it was always a pleasure to speak to Oyakata-sama, he did not usually invite any of the Hashira outside of their regular meetings without a good and often grave reason. Sanemi’s heart started beating faster when ideas started flooding his mind, one more menacing than the other.

Sanemi quickened his pace and turned the last corner – and froze at the sight that unfolded in front of him. He did indeed see Oyakata-sama who was already looking into his direction as if he had sensed Sanemi arriving, a warm smile on his face. Next to him kneeled two of his children, their pale faces calm as always as they both followed their father’s gaze. And in front of them stood another person who had not yet noticed Sanemi. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the dark hair flowing down on a haori that was split into two parts, one half being red and the other having a very distinct pattern that Sanemi would have recognized everywhere.

“Shit,” Sanemi muttered before he could stop himself. This already odd invitation had now taken a rather dreadful turn and he was not sure anymore whether he really wanted to attend the meeting. But since Oyakata-sama had already spotted him, he had no other choice than approaching them, teeth gritted.

As if he had felt Sanemi’s gaze burning holes into his haori, Giyuu turned around. As always, his face did not show much of a reaction but Sanemi noticed his eyebrows slightly furrowing. Apparently, Giyuu had not been informed about his presence either which was somewhat reassuring. For a moment, they exchanged an unenthused look. Then, Sanemi turned towards Oyakata-sama and his children and bowed deeply, his eyes fixed at the ground.

“Welcome, Sanemi. Thank you for coming,” Oyakata-sama said, his voice soft as always. “Now that you have arrived, we can speak about the matter at hand.”

Sanemi looked up and noticed that Giyuu was still standing around as if this did not pertain to him, his gaze wandering over the trees and paths surrounding this part of the estate. If it were not for Oyakata-sama’s presence, Sanemi would have hit Giyuu over the head for this disrespect towards their master. While it was still tempting, he did not move a muscle though. For the moment, he had to leave it at a nasty look – and if he was lucky, the chance to go through with it would present itself at a later point. “Yes, Oyakata-sama,” he said as calmly as possible, listening carefully.

Oyakata-sama smiled at him before his face turned earnest. “As you are aware, both of you are Hashira and therefore two of the strongest demon slayers. However, it has been brought to my attention that both of you still have potential to grow in your respective areas.”

Sanemi tilted his head and looked at his master pensively. It took him a moment to filter out the meaning behind those elegant words and his heart sank when he realized that he had just been told in a very kind way that at least one of his skills was lacking. He shot Giyuu an angry look when he noticed Giyuu glancing at him with what looked like a slightly amused gaze.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he said hesitatingly and this time, he was fairly sure that he saw amusement sparkling in Giyuu’s eyes. It was only for Oyakata-sama’s calm presence that he did not jump up and grab Giyuu by the collar of his ridiculous haori. While Sanemi was not shy of confrontations, there was one person in the world he never wanted to disappoint – and he was pretty sure that Oyakata-sama would indeed be very disappointed in him, should he lose his temper this easily.

As if he had read his mind, Oyakata-sama nodded to him, an encouraging smile on his lips. “I apologize, I should have explained it better. While both of you are impressive fighters, both in your respective breathing styles as well as in your strong minds, it has come to my attention that you both struggle working with a partner.”

Sanemi paused and stared at Oyakata-sama. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Giyuu had also turned to look at their master, a slightly uneasy expression on his pale face. Oyakata-sama smiled at them. For a moment, Sanemi absentmindedly thought that his master had to be the only person in the world who was able to both smile at someone and give them a stern look at the same time.

“Giyuu, you have to learn how to communicate your plan to others, especially when working as a team,” Oyakata-sama continued. “And you, Sanemi, have to learn how to trust others instead of only relying on yourself. And since both of your struggles stem from the same root, you will be working together to outgrow them and become even stronger.”

For a moment, everything was silent. Sanemi felt his blood rush through his body when the meaning of what Oyakata-sama had just said sank in. And while he still struggled for words, he heard Giyuu quietly say what was on his mind as well. “Oh no.”

Nichika – or Hinaki, as Sanemi could not tell the Ubuyashiki daughters apart – smiled at them and bowed after she had finished explaining the instructions. She turned to leave, followed by Hinaki – or maybe Nichika, who knew. Sanemi watched them leave the training ground close by the Ubuyashiki residence, his mouth still slightly agape. It took him quite a bit of willpower to turn around and face Giyuu who stood a few steps behind him, leaning against one of the many wooden dummies they were supposed to use for their training. Of course, Giyuu was once again too pretentious to reveal any big emotion but even from where he stood, Sanemi saw his eyelid twitching. And for once, Sanemi could relate to him.

For a while, they both kept quiet, lost in their own bewilderment at what had been asked of them. Sanemi contemplated leaving, simply sneaking away from the training ground. He was sure he would be able to do so without being seen but since he was well aware that his master’s mental abilities well exceeded those of his eyes, he knew that this plan was doomed before he could even try. Oyakata-sama would know, in one way or the other, and while he would maybe not intervene, he would be direly disappointed in Sanemi’s actions - and however much disdain he felt at the idea of training with Giyuu, Sanemi was not willing to disappoint the one person who had never disappointed him.

Thus, he gritted his teeth and turned to Giyuu who stared at the cloudy sky as if it was about to reveal an out of this situation to him. “Well,” Sanemi growled. “Since we have not much of a choice, we might as well get it over with.”

For a moment, Giyuu did not react and Sanemi was about to say something rather unkind at this ignorance, when Giyuu finally nodded reluctantly. “Yes,” he muttered, avoiding Sanemi’s gaze. “So … are you going to bend down or do I have to jump?”

Sanemi felt his own blood rush through his ears and he dug his fingernails deep into his palms, desperately trying to cope with the absurdity of the situation. It took him all his willpower to keep breathing calmly instead of exploding when he begrudgingly crouched down. He heard slow footsteps behind him and clenched his jaws when he felt Giyuu coming closer. His whole body tensed up when Giyuu came to a halt behind him. And then, he felt cold fingers hesitantly touching his shoulders before grabbing ahold of them and even though he tried his best to suppress it, Sanemi flinched at the touch. He felt Giyuu freeze and for a moment, they were engulfed by silence as both Sanemi and Giyuu held their breath at the same time.

Then, Sanemi closed his eyes and sighed, conquering his repulsion. The quicker they started, the quicker it would be over. And with a swift movement, he reached back and heaved Giyuu onto his shoulders, almost overhearing the surprised yelp coming from behind him. “Great,” he spat out. “What now?”

For a moment, he was met with stunned silence. Apparently, Giyuu had not expected this sudden ascent and it took him a second to adapt to the situation. “Well,” he said slowly. “Before we start, we have to … uh, put on the blindfold.”

With his jaw, Sanemi also almost dropped Giyuu. He noticed just in time that he had let go of him and quickly grabbed his legs, cutting Giyuu’s startled cry short. “The what?” he bellowed, desperately hoping that he had misheard Giyuu’s words.

But only a second later, his hopes were shattered when Giyuu repeated himself, this time dangling a dark piece of cloth in front of Sanemi’s face as if to prove his words. “The blindfold. You’ll have to put it on. Nichika explained it to us.”

Dumbstruck, Sanemi stared at the blindfold softly swaying before his eyes, moving in an almost hypnotic rhythm. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare and while his brain still tried to process this new development, he heard himself weakly say, “I can’t put it on with no hands free though.”

And without hesitation, Giyuu replied, “Then I’ll do it for you.”

Sanemi froze when he felt Giyuu’s hands grazing his face as he quickly slipped the blindfold over his eyes. For a split second, Sanemi contemplated ripping the blindfold away and strangling Giyuu with it but even in this humiliating situation, he saw Oyakata-sama’s smile before his inner eye. And with clenched teeth, he let it wash over himself. When the dark cloth almost entirely drowned out any light, Giyuu finally retracted his hands. It was only then that Sanemi realized that he had held his breath throughout the whole ordeal and when he now gasped for air, he felt Giyuu shift uncomfortably on his shoulders as he leaned forward.

“Everything alright?” Giyuu asked, his voice sounding strangely timid. And instead of snapping at him, Sanemi left it at an exasperated sigh and nodded.

“Let’s get it over and done with,” he groaned, blinking rapidly as one of his eyelashes got stuck on the fabric. He felt Giyuu’s weight on his shoulders and even though Giyuu was not particularly heavy, it felt like he had shouldered nothing less than a boulder. For all he knew, this was at least a one-off occasion and this thought gave him the strength to tighten his grip when he felt Giyuu drawing his katana. As one of the Ubuyashiki daughters had explained to them, they would have to work together, Sanemi being the legs and muscle while Giyuu bore the katana and acted as the mind behind their strategy.

“Uh, let’s get moving then,” Giyuu said, sounding a bit unsure. He shifted his weight a bit and Sanemi clenched his teeth again, trying not to snap at him that he was no horse that had to be steered with the legs.

“Where?” he growled instead. “I can’t exactly see, if you haven’t noticed.”

Giyuu paused before he muttered, “Sure. Hm, turn to the right. There are a few dummies up ahead.”

And begrudgingly, Sanemi followed suit. The next hour – which did feel like an eternity – consisted mostly of Giyuu giving him increasingly precise commands where to go while Sanemi slowly got used to supporting Giyuu’s weight while he brandished his sword. And while his insides where still burning with anger at this training method, he did come to appreciate the satisfying thump when Giyuu’s katana hit another of the wooden dummies.

However, Sanemi was well aware that in the speed they were moving right now, an enemy would have enough time to gather a whole army before they even got to him. And thus, he spoke up after a while, cursing silently at himself for having to make this suggestion. “We should move quicker if we want this to be a real training.”

A moment of silence followed and he heard Giyuu’s soft breath before he finally replied, “Are you sure you are, uh, strong enough for that? I mean, you’ve been carrying me around for a while now.”

This caught Sanemi entirely by surprise and for a moment, he was at a loss of words as rage started bubbling up in his throat. He tightened his grip around Giyuu’s legs until his nails had to dig into his skin and he smiled grimly at the sharp breath drawn above his head. “I’ll show you just how to strong I am,” he murmured, more to himself.

Giyuu did not react to his threatening tone but Sanemi could feel him move into a more secure position, seemingly expecting Sanemi to burst into motion at any moment. And then, he did.

In the blink of an eye, Sanemi charged forward. Giyuu let out a small yelp and clung to his shoulders as they flew across the training ground. “Right,” Giyuu screamed, apparently just in time as his katana hit something hard way quicker than it had before.

But Sanemi did not let this knock him off course and he continued to sprint, led only by Giyuu’s hasty directions. Over and over, he heard the impact of Giyuu’s katana and when his muscles started burning and both of their breaths came ragged, he released all of his anger in another mighty burst of energy. They whirled across the training ground, drafts of air and the fierce impacts blurring into each other. Giyuu’s voice came quicker as he tried to keep up with Sanemi’s speed, his commands sounding more rushed by the minute which made Sanemi grin to himself.

“Left,” Giyuu gasped out and Sanemi instantly followed suit. Giyuu’s body tensed up as he screamed, “Other left!”

And before Sanemi had the time to react, something akin to a brick wall materialized in front of him and with an earthshattering thump, they collided. He yelped in surprise and pain as he staggered backwards, letting go of Giyuu who fell from his shoulders with a cry. Giyuu landed hard on the ground with a loud groan and Sanemi, still blinded by the dark fabric, stumbled over him, toppling over. Before he could reach out to catch himself, he landed on something rather soft which evoked another groan, this time slightly muffled. And when Sanemi ripped the blindfold off his face, he noticed that the squishy something he had landed on was Giyuu who stared up at him with his eyes wide as saucers.

Sanemi quickly struggled to his feet, hastily moving a few steps away from both Giyuu and the unexpected barrier which turned out to be less of a brick wall and more of an especially broad wooden dummy that now – if one looked closely – had the silhouette of a weird, humpbacked figure imprinted into its frontside.

Sanemi turned back to Giyuu, glaring at him, already opening his mouth to give him a piece of his mind when he suddenly heard a soft hem somewhere behind them. Giyuu’s gaze fell on something behind Sanemi and with a start, he turned around. His heart sank when he found himself face to face with Oyakata-sama, accompanied by his daughters. A slightly amused smile formed on his master’s face when he looked at first him, then Giyuu.

“As I can tell, this training was a good idea. I am glad that you are taking this very seriously, my children. And since you have both proven that you still have a ways to go, you will continue this training until you work in perfect harmony.” For a moment, everything fell silent. Like in trance, Sanemi turned his head and when his gaze met Giyuu’s blue eyes, he knew that this was only just the start to a few particularly unpleasant weeks. And the worst of it all: he would only break free if he and Giyuu actually managed to work as a team.

[s-creations]

Comes in Waves - Who Did This To You?

Entries for the 2024 RadioStatic Week.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Rating: Teen and Up Audience Relationship: Alastor/Vox Additional Tags: Cursing, Angst, Fluff and Angst, I'll try and write a good mix of both happy and sad, They're both idiots when it comes to love.

Every step hurts. Every breath was painful. His vision was horrible with how cracked his screen was. It was amazing that he was even still standing. He was pretty sure he was running off of adrenaline and the moment that fell away, he was going to drop. 

Vox couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped him when he met with some uneven ground. Needing to dig his claws into the closet surface to gain some balance for himself. Unable to move from the new wave of pain, Vox tried to catch his breath as he tried to ‘look’ around. When his vision did clear, he’d been able to catch some snippets of the path he was on. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he picked this way. He could have just gone back to his Tower. It would have been easier. Less damage to his already bruised ego. Less chance of being seen by demons who shouldn’t know about his condition. 

But, at this point, with how much pain he was in, Vox was just on a one track mind of just getting to safety, to comfort, and that wasn’t back at his Tower. 

It was at that stupid, fucking hotel. If he was even allowed to come in. He could just barely make out the large structure. He was about halfway up the path from where he stood. It felt…so far away. But he was also so close, closer than before. He can make it. He can, he has to…

He was so tired…

He couldn’t move…

It took everything for Vox to place one more step. Only to freeze when the shadows shifted to form a familiar figure. Alastor’s smile tight as his eyes narrowed down on the injured Overlord. 

Vox couldn’t tell if the other was angry, annoyed, or both. 

“Well, you’re rather far from home.” Alastor said so casually, you would have thought they’d just met on the street any old day. But that damn smile was still tight. 

Vox’s retort was nothing more than his words being cut off in a stream of broken static. Pain coursing through him once more, causing his hand to become dislodged from the tree he’d dug them into. Body convulsing for a moment before he began to fall. Unable to pull the feeling back into his legs or arms to catch himself. 

But the landing never came. 

Instead, in the blink of an eye, Alastor had closed the distance between them. Staff disappeared to allow both arms to be free as they caught the unresponsive Overlord. Vox, on his part, was just barely online at this point. Knowing that he was open to whatever attack the Radio Demon might have for him. Expecting to feel the sting of a knife to cut through his back and into his heart, putting him out of his misery. 

Shock flickered through Vox once more when he was easily lifted off the ground. Wanting to feel some bit of annoyance or embarrassment to hit as he was basically cradled in the arms of his rival. But all he could do was lay his head on Alastor’s shoulder. Just able to make out the sharp smile pointed at him through his fogged vision. 

“I suppose you and I will have a long chat after you wake again.”

Vox merely blinked back as a reply. 

Alastor didn’t seem to care as he turned and made his way up to the hotel. Seeming to take his steps deliberately as if to not jostle Vox too much. The Media’s last memory was that of the double doors opening, the residents inside peering at them both with a mix of worry and panic, and Alastor pushing past them with ease and without a word. 

Vox was out before they reached the base of the grand staircase. 

.

.

.

When he woke, Vox was pleased to see that his vision had cleared up. That was the millisecond of relief he had before he realized he was not in his room. He was on a bed, a plush one. One that felt as if he was on a cloud, far softer than any of the beds the Vees’ owned. The canopy overhead was a deep red, a blood red, nothing like the reds from Valentino’s room. And Velvette didn’t like deep red. 

“W-Where…” Vox winces hearing how terrible his voice sounded.

He couldn’t move his head, still too tired from healing himself. But he could hear footsteps approaching where he laid. Confusion grew as Alastor came into view. That smile still in place as the Radio Demon sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake. You were giving Sleeping Beauty a run for her money.” Alastor said calmly. But Vox could tell there was another emotion hidden underneath. You don’t study your biggest rival without learning a few cues.

With how tight Alastor’s smile was…was he…worried?

“What…happened?” Vox asked weakly. 

“I was hoping you could tell me, good man. You come shuffling your pity parade of one towards the hotel and I thought you were being your foolish self. Going to make another silly proclamation to fight me or what not…” Alastor’s chipper tone slowly disappeared as he started the other down. 

“Only to be colored surprised when I find you clinging to consciousness and barely able to stand. I thought, at first, maybe it was a ruse? Some way to have my guard be dropped. To foolishly let you in…”

Vox blinked, slowly, trying to remember. “...How long have I been asleep?”

“2 days, 11 hours, 52 minutes, and a few seconds… But who’s counting really.” That tight smile was back. 

“Where…am I? I mean, the hotel but…one of the rooms?”

“My room, to be more exact.” 

That caused a hit of confusion. Vox still couldn’t turn his head, to confirm if Alastor was telling the truth. But the Radio Demon had no reason to lie about something like this. So…

“You deliberately brought me to your room?” If Vox was his usual self, he would have put a teasing tone. Openly mocking the other for his action. But he was more surprised to have been not only brought into the hotel but specifically into Alastor’s room. 

His domain. 

Allowing Vox to just sleep on his bed. 

“Of course I did. The only one allowed to see you in such a state is me…” Alastor’s voice was just barely a whisper. Reaching out to run the back of his hand along Vox’s frame. 

Only to pull away quickly with his eyes a bright red, “Because only I should be able to take such pleasure in seeing you this broken.”

Vox growled as the laugh track played throughout the room. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

That gave Vox enough energy to sit up in defiance. Only to feel his body jolt in pain from the sudden movement, causing him to lay back down in intense suffering. 

“Ah ah,” Alastor wagged his finger, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You were, and still are, in bad shape and none of your electrical annoyances are here to help you along. Your recovery is going to take some time.”

“Did I get any calls?”

Alastor tilted his head at that. “How should I know?”

“What- Just, tap the screen on my phone and tell me what it says.”

“What phone?”

Vox let out a pained growl. “Now’s not the time for your technophobia or whatever. I need you to find my phone and-”

“Your phone’s not here.”

That gave the Media Overlord some pause. “...What do you mean it’s not here?”

“I mean it’s not here. Not sure how much clearer I can make it for you. You arrived here, but your ‘phone’ did not.”

“Don’t use air quotes, you ass.”

Alastor merely laughed. “Tell me, where do you remember your ‘phone’ being?”

Really wishing he could smack that smirk off, Vox contented himself with rolling his eyes. Looking away from the other as he tried to recall what happened. 

He was heading back from a meeting.

It was dark and he decided to duck into an alleyway. 

For everything he couldn’t remember why he didn’t call his limo or move through the current as he normally did. But he hadn’t felt like it that night.

He was engrossed in his phone, planning the next big event or meeting or something. 

He didn’t see the entrances being blocked. 

He didn’t see the first attack. 

He remembered fighting back. 

He’d dropped his phone to focus on everything else.

But between being jumped and with how many there were…

It’s shameful to think an Overlord would allow himself to be jumped so easily. 

“Well?”

Alastor’s voice pulled Vox back to the present. The Media Overlord nervous with how close the other was leaning over him. Red eyes narrowed as he waited for Vox to reply. That tight smile was back. 

“I…just lost it,” Vox replied weakly, “It’s fine. No one can access it. I’ll get it later.” 

He tensed when Alastor let out a low growl. Vox heard a tearing sound right next to his head. His mind helpfully offered that Alastor’s claws were digging into the bed. 

“What a horrible answer.” The Radio Demon’s voice was distorted as he spoke. 

Vox felt his heart racing. “What?”

“Since you seem to want to make this difficult, I’ll just cut to the chase.” Alastor’s face was barely an inch away from Vox’s. The Media Overlord knew the other didn’t have hypnotic powers, but he found he couldn’t look away from the deep red eyes staring into him. 

“Who did this to you.”

Vox swallowed weakly. “Just…some sinners. It’s not- I was just off- I wasn’t paying attention. It’s fine.”

The deep growl said otherwise. “Who. Give me descriptions. Detail. Locations. Something.”

“I- Why?” 

“Because I’m going to make them suffer,” Alastor hissed, “I’m going to send their screams of panic and fear through the airwaves for all to hear. I’m going to make an example out of them. I’m going to tell this wretched place that the only demon who’s allowed to even look at you is me. Do you understand? Y̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞u̳̿͟͞ b̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞l̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞n̳̿͟͞g̳̿͟͞ t̳̿͟͞o̳̿͟͞ m̳̿͟͞e̳̿͟͞.”

Vox knew he should be terrified. That he should fight back in some way. To stand his ground and say he could handle this himself. But an ever growing part of him warned to not fight this and he quickly sided with it

“I-It was the alleyway off of 6th,” he started to spill, “Next to that little bakery, I think, I-I don’t know, but it has a weird name. They were sharks, loan sharks maybe? I don’t know. I know a few of those organizations owe me money so maybe this was them trying to clear the debt. There were about 5, maybe 6 of them? I didn’t get a good look.” 

The air suddenly cleared up. Vox letting out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he sunk back into the bed. On his part, Alastor looked as if nothing had just transpired. Merely corrected his tie before addressing Vox once more.

“Rest easy know that while you’re in my domain, no harm shall come to you.”

“Alastor-”

“I suggest you rest a little longer. Maybe you’ll get some feeling back in your limbs instead of just your mouth.” 

“Alastor-” Vox froze again, feeling fingers under his chin. Eyes following said hand as it was casually waved over his screen. Exhaustion suddenly gripped him. Just barely able to keep himself awake as he watched the other stand. “Alastor…”

“Rest, Vox. I’ll be back soon.”

As Alastor fully turned away, making for the door, Vox fell into the calming darkness and slept. 

[cutedisneygirl]

Wrong Decision

Warnings: It is a little sad at first but then there will be just fluff and sweet moments.

It is the 24th of December-Christmas Eve and Bella stood alone, painstakingly decorating her Christmas tree. Normally, she loves this time of year-cheerful music, the twinkling lights, the warmth of the season. But the past two Christmases had been tough, leaving her questioning if she should even bother putting up a tree this year. Instead of her usual post-Thanksgiving decorating spree, she waited until the last minute, struggling to find the joy she once felt. As she reaches for the ornament, a symbol of happier times, it now only reminds her of the relationship that ended so painfully two years ago, just days before Christmas.

Unknowingly to her Chris, her ex is standing outside her house, he is watching her from afar close to her window. He is in so much pain knowing he made the wrong decision and there she is, decorating her tree, sad and alone while he is outside in the snow. As Chris watches her the snow continues to fall. Hitting his jacket, and face. The flakes stuck to his coat and hair. Chris is hesitant and can’t choose between running away or walking towards her house. As he turns around and decides to leave, Bella can see him through her window, walking away.

Bella begins to cry as she sees him walking away. Her heart acts and she just wishes things had ended differently. She wished they were still together. She looks back at her tree and not feeling like decorating anymore she sighs and walks away. She heads to the kitchen and fixes herself a cup of hot chocolate. She heads to the couch, curls up with her Winne the Pooh blanket, and turns on Netflix. The sight of countless Christmas movies only reminds her of Chris and the joy they once shared. She finally settles on “Sweet Home Alabama”, hoping a rom com will distract her aching heart.

She was halfway through the movie when Bella hears a knock at her door. “I wonder who that could be.” She says to herself. She pauses her movie and gets up from the couch and walks over to the door and opens it. She is shocked, there stands Chris. He is wearing a blue collared shirt and light brown pants and bundled up with a red scarf, the scarf Bella had made him two years ago. He is covered in snow.

“Chris, what are you doing here?” “Bella, I had to see you. Please can we talk?” “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” “Bella please, let me in. I just want to talk. Please.” Bella sighs “Okay.” She moves to the side so Chris can step inside. Once he’s inside she closes the door. For a few minutes all they can do is stare at each other. “Bella, I’m sorry.” Chris says after several moments of silence. Bella remains silent as she listens to Chris apologize. “I was an idiot for breaking up with you. These last two years have been hell for me. I miss you like crazy. I want another chance.” “Chris I….” “I know I hurt you. But I was an idiot! I wish could take back what I did, but I can’t. But I want another chance. I love you Bella, I always have. I never stopped. For the last two years I have thought of you and wanted so much to reach out to you, but I thought you had moved on, I thought you would have met someone and…. but I’m guessing you didn’t.” “No, I haven’t. I have not wanted anyone else. I have been miserable without you, but….”

Chris steps closer to Bella and reaches out and caresses her cheek. “Bella, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was such an idiot. Please forgive me. The reasons I broke up with you was so stupid! I wish I could take it back!” “Why did you break up with me? You never really told me.” Chris sighs. “You’re going to think its stupid and probably hate me.” “I could never hate you, Chris.” Chris sighs. “Well to start off with, I had something happen. I got into a massive scandal, and was accused of something I didn’t do. My agent and PR team told me to distance myself from everyone that was close to me and break off my relationship with you. My agent was also pushing me to maintain a certain image, so I had to cut things off. They told me that being in high-profile relationship could harm my career and add to my stress.” He pauses and takes a breath before he continues. “I wanted to protect you, so I broke things off. I didn’t want to. I loved you and I still do. It was the worst decision I ever made, and I regret it to this day. I was able to clear my name, and I decided to not listen to my agent who wanted me to have a certain image. I have a new agent now and things are better.”

Bella is silent taking everything in that he said. “Chris, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just end it? I would have understood and would have helped you. If you loved me I don’t understand why you had to keep this from me.” “I’m sorry Bella. I was an idiot! As I said I regret it and wish I could take it. I have been miserable these past two years. They tried to get me to date other people, ones they wanted me to, but I kept comparing them to you and they weren’t you. I couldn’t do it. I ended all of them and then stopped trying and told them I was done and that I didn’t want anyone but you. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But I would like another chance if you can forgive me.” Bella sighs. “Chris, I love you and I never stopped, but…” “I know it might take a while before you can fully forgive me, but I will do whatever it takes to prove to you that it won’t’ ever happen again and that I love you.” Bella is quiet for several minutes and looks at Chris. She can see in his eyes how truly sorry he is and how much he does love her. She finally sights, “Okay, yes I will give you another chance.”

Chris smiles and takes her his arms and kisses her. In the kiss is so much passion and forgiveness. For that brief moment all the past and what he had done is forgotten. Bella and Chris spend the remainder of the night together cuddled up on the couch.

Now a year later since they got back together it is Christmas Eve and Chris and Bella have just finished baking cookies. “Baby, there is something I want to show you.” “What?” Chris takes her hand and leads her over to the tree. Once they are in front of the tree Chris kneels in front of it getting on one knee. Bella is now about crying. She knows what is about to happen. “Oh Chris!” Chris reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a black velvet box. “Bella, from the moment I met you. I knew I loved you. I knew you were the one for me. I knew when I heard you laugh, and the way we could talk about anything. How you loved Disney just as much as I did. Those two years apart were torture for me. I was going to propose to you back then but then I had to end things. Last year I was going to propose, but I was afraid you would say no after what I did. But now a year later, I know I can’t wait any longer. Please say yes and make me the happiest man alive and marry me. Become my wife, Mrs. Evans.” “Oh Chris! Yes! Yes!” Chris smiles and slides the ring on her finger and then stands up and kisses her. “I love you Bella” “I love you too Chris.”

If you would like this story to continue let me know. I have ideas I can do if you want more.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove

@sarahrogersevans

@nescavaneck

@willowsages-blog

@krissy25

@eva-knits12

@angelbabyyy99

@denise1605

@shywhisperscreator

@bookishtheaterlover7

@kmc1989

@lizette50

@tess-love

@frogeezz-blog-blog

[eviebakes]

'til morning comes

Summary: In the twilight years of gunslingers and outlaws, Mattie is used to being on her own—and then she meets Flora.

Word Count: ~4.5K

Warnings: Violence, Explicit Language

A/N: This story was inspired by @drizzledrawings amazing cowbians art, which you should definitely go check out!! Mattie and Flora are their characters, but hopefully I did these two cowboys justice 🤠 The title is from Tessellate by alt-j. Thank you so much for reading!

__________________

Mattie stood beneath the shade of an oak tree, an unlit cigarette between her lips.

She patted her pockets, biting back a sigh when the search failed to yield any matches.

Damn. Mattie tilted her head skyward, lifting her hat and pushing her bangs back into her hair.

Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, hinting at the promise of rain. Somewhere overhead, a hawk screeched.

June grazed nearby, just visible through the trees. Mattie debated calling her over so she could look through the saddle bags before quickly dismissing the idea.

She’d resupply when she got the chance. Maybe stop at that muddy little town she’d ridden past this morning and grab a hot meal while she was at it.

Later though.

Now, it was time to rob some bastard blind.

Mattie hummed beneath her breath as she strode through the trees, her hand brushing against the worn leather of her holster. The ground, still wet from last night’s rain, sunk beneath her boots with every step.

She found a good vantage spot on the edge of the road and tucked herself against a tree, half-obscured by the surrounding foliage.

A covered wagon rolled past, a man and woman arguing loudly over supplies. Then, a group of men on horseback, all of them grim faced and armed to the teeth.

Mattie waited patiently, biding her time.

Experience had taught her that it was better to wait for the right target. Even if there were less lawmen in this part of the country, picking the wrong person could lead to trouble.

Mattie straightened from her lean when a woman appeared down the road sitting astride a piebald horse, a white hat pulled low over her face.

Mattie eyed her consideringly—but to her surprise, the woman raised her head and looked straight at her.

Their eyes met. The woman gave her a once-over and smiled, touching the brim of her hat as she rode past. After a moment’s hesitation, Mattie returned the gesture and resumed her vigil.

Half an hour passed before another single rider appeared. A man this time, unarmed and covered in road dust.

Perfect.

“Help me,” Mattie gasped, limping out of the brush and stumbling to the ground in front of him. “Oh, God—please help me!”

“Whoa!” The man pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, eyeing her warily. “What’s wrong, miss?”

“I-it’s my ankle,” she whimpered, clutching at her foot. “Somethin’ is wrong with my ankle!”

He hesitantly took a step closer, the watch chain on his vest glinting in the sun. “What happened?”

“My horse bucked me and r-ran off into the woods,” Mattie panted. “Please, mister. Can you help me find him?”

He shifted on his feet, seemingly torn between pity and suspicion. But Mattie was a good liar and, after several days of traveling, she didn’t have to feign dishevelment.

“Please,” she said, her voice cracking, and his expression finally softened. Got you.

“Here, let’s get you up,” he said, crouching beside her. “We’ll find your horse, miss.”

He helped her to stand and, as soon as she put weight on her foot, Mattie pretended to stumble into him.

Her fingers skimmed against the watch chain right as he moved to catch her, causing her hand to knock into his stomach. Shit.

Before she could play it off, he grabbed her wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Let go of me!” Mattie snapped, dropping all pretense.

Her free hand went to her holster when he only tightened his grip. “I should’ve known better! You’re nothing more than a goddamn—"

They both froze when a horse appeared down the road at a full gallop, heading straight for them.

The man released her with a curse, and Mattie dove away as the rider desperately pulled back on the reigns to avoid them.

The horse reared, the rider tumbling off the saddle and hitting the ground with a cry.

The man rushed over to help, and Mattie took advantage of the distraction to crawl into the undergrowth. Breathless, she peered through the leaves to watch the scene unfold.

“Miss! Miss, are you okay?”

“I-I think so. J-just a little shaken.”

“Here, let me help you sit up. Careful now—take it slow.”

Mattie narrowed her eyes. It was the same brunette who’d ridden past earlier. Why’d she come back this way…?

“Thank you, sir,” she said as the man helped her up, hastily offering an arm when she swayed unsteadily on her feet. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”

“If anything, I should be thanking you. You interrupted some ugly business—a would-be thief trying to rob me.”

“How awful!”

She clutched the man’s arm more tightly, and the sleight of hand was so subtle, so natural, that Mattie almost thought she’d imagined it.

But no—the woman smoothly tucked the watch up her shirtsleeve a moment later, her eyes never once leaving the man’s face. “I’m lucky I ran into you instead—I could’ve been in even more trouble!”

Unlike Mattie’s fumbled attempt at pickpocketing, the man didn’t so much as blink. “Don’t worry, now. She seems to have scampered off in the chaos.”

“Thank goodness for that! The roads can so unsafe sometimes.”

Mattie ground her teeth, fuming at the turn of events. This had to be a damn joke.

But as the man helped her onto the horse, the brunette turned to look right at the spot where Mattie had concealed herself—a flash of dark, mischievous eyes.

And then she winked.

What. The. FUCK.

_________

A few hours later found Mattie at the saloon, nursing a lukewarm beer while she sulked.

What a waste of a day. Hours spent staking out a decent spot along the road, and nothing to show for it but a bruised ego. She’d been outmaneuvered and out—out thieved, and it pissed her off to no end.

She took an angry gulp of beer, slamming down the bottle in a futile effort to relieve some of the frustration prickling beneath her skin.

No one paid her any mind. It was late afternoon, and the saloon was blessedly empty save for a few men playing poker.

Tomorrow, she’d start fresh. Ride to that town north of here and rob any easy targets she found along the way.

Tonight though, Mattie just wanted to forget the whole shitty day.

She drank her way through several more beers while the saloon slowly filled with people, the wall lights flickering to life as the sunlight faded. Carts and stagecoaches rumbled past outside, joining the piano music and the hum of conversation.

One of the poker players sidled up to the bar, squeezing into the open spot beside her. He was around her age, his hair slicked back with too much pomade.  

He ordered a whiskey, subtly glancing at her while the bartender filled a glass for him. Mattie ignored him, keeping her gaze forward.

She bit back a sigh when he fully twisted to face her. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore—"

“Not interested,” Mattie broke in flatly, not even bothering to look at him.

“I’m just trying to have a conv—”

“Get. Lost.”

His ears reddened, but there were too many people around for him to do more than shoot her a dirty look. “You aren’t that pretty anyways.”

“Good one. Very original,” Mattie said beneath her breath as he staggered away.

“Right? A real charmer,” someone said at her elbow.

Mattie tensed. It was the brunette—smiling at her like they were the best of friends. “You.”

“Me,” she agreed easily, resting her arms on the bar and nodding at the empty bottles. “Tough day, huh?”

“No thanks to you,” Mattie hissed accusingly, jabbing a finger at her. “You robbed me.”

“I thought about robbing you, but you didn’t look like you had much.”

She gaped. “You serious?”

“No, I’m Flora.”

“You—that’s not—!” Mattie pressed her lips together, glowering. “So…so you just came here to gloat then?”

“I came here for a drink, sunshine.”

Sunshine…? Mattie mouthed stupidly, her glare faltering. It was like she’d encountered a whirlwind—one that was two steps ahead of her.

“This was the closest town in riding distance,” Flora said, gesturing at the sunflower on Mattie’s hat in answer to her unspoken question. “And I was gonna rob the first good target I ran into out there. Don’t read too much into it.”

Her voice was friendly, but lacked the flirtatiousness from the road. It’d just been part of the act, like pretending to fall off her horse or Mattie’s damsel in distress ploy.

“Well aren’t you good at what you do,” Mattie said, like she had a mouthful of marbles.

“Awful sweet of you for noticing,” Flora said, grinning when she rolled her eyes. “Tell you what. Your next round is on me.”

“No thanks,” Mattie said, scowling. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Hey, if I feel bad for anyone, it’s that poor bastard from earlier.” Flora leaned closer, one of her braids sliding over her shoulder and grazing Mattie’s arm. “He was the one getting robbed today, one way or another.”

A laugh bubbled from the back of her throat. Mattie barely managed to turn it into a cough because—yeah, she had a point. “Just one drink.”

“That’s the spirit,” Flora said cheerfully, catching the bartender’s attention and tossing a few coins on the bar.

“But this doesn’t make us friends,” Mattie added, catching the drink Flora slid her way.

“Whatever you say,” Flora agreed amicably, clinking their bottles together. “Cheers.”

She waited until Mattie took a sip, smiling with the lip of the bottle still pressed to her mouth. “That wasn’t so bad, was—"

“Hey,” someone interrupted loudly. They simultaneously looked over their shoulders. “Hey, you. Irish.”

“Oh good,” Flora said lightly, turning and propping a hip against the bar. “Mr. Charmer is back for another round."

“Course he is.” Mattie clenched her jaw, twisting to face the man. “What do you want now?”

It took him a full second to focus on her. “I want to know what your problem is.”

“My problem is that I’m tryin’ to have a peaceful evenin’, and you keep botherin’ me.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly.” He leaned closer, his breath making her nose crinkle. “What, you’re too good for a conversation?”

“Is that what you call this?” Mattie looked at him coolly, her lip curling. “If you want to talk so badly, go pay someone for it.”

He flushed a dark red when Flora snickered, something ugly flashing across his face. “You really think you’re better than me, huh.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t go that far, but at least I don’t spend my time harassin’ folk and—what was that other part again?”

She pretended to mull it over before snapping her fingers. “Oh right. I don’t smell like fucking pig shit.”

Mattie raised her bottle in a sarcastic salute and turned back toward the bar, already anticipating his next move.

Sure enough, he grabbed her arm and tugged her toward him. “We aren’t done talk—"

The words cut off in a howl of pain when Mattie deftly flipped her bottle and smashed it against his face. He stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair, taking another man down with him as he fell.

The uproar was immediate. A few people ran for the exit, but the drunkest men joined the fray—hooting and hollering as they laid into one another.

Mattie didn’t wait to see the outcome. She sidestepped two brawling men and beelined it toward the exit, dodging neatly out of the way when someone ran past with a chair and threw it through the window with a whoop.

She’d almost reached the saloon doors when a hand clamped down on her arm and yanked her backwards.

Mattie twisted, catching a flash of Pig Shit’s bloodied face right before he plowed her in the cheek.

She spun with the force of the blow, tasting blood as pain erupted across her entire face. Mattie barely avoided his next few swings, landing a single punch before he decked her again.

Her vision went white. She flew into a table and crashed to the floor, shot glasses and bottles raining down around her.

Mattie struggled to her knees, shards of glass digging into her skin. Pig Shit’s boots appeared in her line of vision, the leather worn and muddied.

“Not so superior now, huh,” he sneered, kicking aside her hat as she spat out blood. “Bet you’re regretting that smart mouth of your—"

He staggered when something connected with his head, his expression frozen in surprise for the briefest second before he crumpled in a heap.

“With a mouth that big, he’s sure one to talk,” Flora said disdainfully, tossing aside the broken table leg while Mattie gaped at her. “Come on, sunshine—on your feet.”

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Mattie panted as Flora hauled her up and pushed her hat into her hands. “Figured you’d be long gone.”

“Well, you’re glad I’m not, right?” Flora retorted, her gaze locking onto something across the bar. Mattie wiped at her bloody lip and looked over her shoulder.

Two of the poker players—likely Pig Shit’s buddies—were shoving their way through the crowd in their direction.

“Can you run?” Flora asked urgently, grasping her wrist.

“I think so.”

“Then run,” she ordered, already tugging Mattie towards the exit.

They shouldered through the saloon doors and raced across the street, Flora leading them into a dark alleyway between a row of buildings and a fence where several people were loitering.

Without warning, Flora pulled off her hat and crowded her against the wall, pinning their hats between them.

“What’re you doin’,” Mattie hissed as Flora casually wrapped her arms around her waist. “This is the opposite of runnin’.”

“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Flora whispered, settling into the embrace. She was a few inches shorter than Mattie, her temple fitting perfectly in the curve of her jaw. “Play along.”

Mattie bit back a retort when footsteps echoed down the alley, bowing her head as the men ran past—but young lovers hiding in the shadows was nothing unusual, and they didn’t so much as spare them a glance.

Flora stepped away as soon as the footsteps receded, placing her hat on her head. “Where’s your horse? You might be able to sneak away without them noticing.”

Mattie rested against the wall, biting back a wince while she probed at her cheek. Her left eye was already swollen shut. “The only place I’m goin’ tonight is a hotel.”

“Right,” Flora said, drawing out the word into multiple syllables and somehow injecting skepticism in all of them. “And you’re doing that why…?”

“’Cause they’ll be expectin’ me to jump town tonight,” Mattie explained. “Better to hunker down now and head out early.”

“That’s…actually pretty smart.”

She sounded insultingly impressed. Mattie huffed. “Give me some credit here.”

“The hotel is just around the corner,” Flora said, ignoring her. “We should head there now before our new friends decide to come calling again.”

Mattie looked at her sharply. “We?”

“You’re not the only one in danger,” Flora said, her tone losing some of the levity that’d been there all night. “They’ll be looking for me too.”

Mattie shook her head, too tired to argue. “Fine, but you’re not—"

“—your friend,” she broke in, raising an eyebrow. “I know.”

“No, that’s not—” Mattie put on her hat and pulled some coins from her pocket, pushing them into Flora’s hand. “I was gonna say that you don’t need to pay for the rooms since it’s my fault you’re in this mess.”

Flora gazed down at her palm for a moment, looking taken aback for the first time that day. Her eyes were bright when she glanced up, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, partner.”

Mattie grunted and made her way toward the street. Flora fell into step beside her, undeterred. “Buddy?”

“No.”

“Pal?”

“Ugh.”

She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Compadre.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Mattie warned without heat, tilting her hat down to hide her smile when Flora just laughed.

“Maybe you should stay here,” Flora suggested when they reached the hotel. Light spilled through the windows, casting flickering shadows across her face. “You might, uh—”

Mattie snorted, sinking into a squat beside the water barrel sitting on the edge of the hotel porch. “Draw some attention?”

“Just a little,” Flora agreed. She hesitated, then untied the red bandana from her neck and held it out. “Here, sunshine. Your lip is bleeding again.”

“Mattie,” she corrected, gratefully accepting the piece of cloth. She realized Flora was staring at her after a second. “My name’s Mattie.”

“Mattie,” Flora said slowly, like she was testing the weight on her tongue. “It suits you.”

She looked up, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. Flora was already walking away, her boots clunking softly across the wood.

Mattie exhaled and pressed the bandana to her mouth. It smelled like clean linen and something slightly floral.

She closed her eye and leaned her head against the barrel, breathing in the scent of water-soaked wood. Her face throbbed, the pressure almost unbearable around her eye socket.

Someone was humming nearby, the tune fading in and out. A horse walked past on the street, its hooves thudding against the packed dirt road.

Mattie didn’t realize she’d dozed off until someone touched her shoulder. She jerked away, her hand shooting to her knife, but it was just Flora.

She pushed unsteadily to her feet. “We good?”

“Kinda. They only had one room left,” Flora said, trading a key and the remaining coins for her bandana. “You alright with sharing for the night?”

Mattie shrugged one shoulder. “If you wanted me dead, you’ve had a few chances.”

“And we’ve already established you have nothing worth robbing,” Flora joked, moving toward the hotel entrance.

“That too,” she said dryly, tipping her hat over her face as they passed the front desk and climbed a creaky set of stairs.

The room was surprisingly spacious, with a lit hearth and two neatly made beds.

Flora opened the window while Mattie tossed her hat onto the closest bed and went over to the washstand.

She pulled a towel from the rack and poured water into the basin, wincing when she caught sight of her reflection. Shit.

Flora was watching her when she turned around, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “That’s looking pretty bad.”

“Feels worse,” Mattie muttered, sitting on her bed and balancing the basin on her lap.

She wet the cloth, pausing when Flora stepped in front of her and touched her wrist.

“Let me help you with that,” she offered softly, waiting until Mattie gave a terse nod before sliding the cloth from her hand.

Flora retrieved the chair from the corner of the room and sat down, shifting forward until her knee bumped into her thigh. Mattie tensed when she grasped her chin, her fingers cool against her overheated skin.

“So, ‘peaceful evening,’ huh,” Flora said, dabbing the cloth against her lip. “I hate to see when you really let loose.”

“I doubt you could handle it,” Mattie said more airily than she felt, her eye darting to Flora’s face when she laughed.

“Oh, I think what I can handle would surprise you,” she said lightly, her fingertips sliding across Mattie’s jaw as she turned her face—the pale imitation of a tender touch.

“Why’re you helpin’ me so much?” Mattie demanded, feeling suddenly defensive.

Flora glanced at her through her lashes, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Maybe I have a soft spot for underdogs.”

She bristled. “I’m not a charity case.”

“And I’m not your enemy,” Flora said quietly, her thumb resting on the soft underside of Mattie’s chin. “Besides, everyone needs a little help now and then—even tough cowboys like you.”

Flora dipped the cloth in the basin and ran the cloth over her swollen cheek, the motion achingly gentle—and Mattie abruptly realized the answer to her own question.

Kind. Flora was helping her because she was kind.

Mattie shot Flora a subtle glance, her eye moving from the furrow of concentration between her brows to the soft curve of her face.

Flora lifted her arm to inspect the cuts left behind from the broken glass, the motion causing Mattie’s knuckles to skim against her shirt.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by the soft patter of raindrops against the window. A gust of wind fluttered the curtains, filling the room with the scent of rain.

“There,” Flora said after securing a makeshift bandage over the deepest cut, sitting back in the chair as she surveyed her handiwork. “Good as new.”

“Just about,” Mattie said, cradling her arm to her chest. She hunched in on herself when Flora smiled, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling. “What?”

“You aren’t so tough, are you? You just need someone to look after you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Mattie muttered, her cheeks warming. She picked at a thread on her pants as Flora stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Hey, uh…”

Flora looked at her, letting her arms drop to her sides.

“Thank you.” Her eye darted to Flora and away again. “For everythin’.”

Mattie stared fixedly at the peeling wallpaper, but she could still feel Flora’s smile. “You’re welcome.”

_________

Mattie woke early the next morning, her entire face aching.

She stared blearily at the ceiling, breathing through the pain for a few minutes before sitting up and pulling on her boots.

It was still dark out, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fire. Mattie put on her hat, glancing at where Flora was sprawled across the other bed. For a moment, she thought about leaving her.

The impulse faded as quickly as it had come. It would’ve been a shit way to repay her kindness.

“Flora,” she said quietly, touching her shoulder. Flora sat up, instantly—enviably—awake. “We should go before the sun is up.”

They left the hotel a few minutes later and retrieved their horses from the hitching post in front of the saloon, following the road northeast until the town had disappeared behind them.

The ground was still wet from the rain, mud splattering onto their boots while they rode and a cool breeze ruffling their hair.

When the town was several miles behind them, they paused beside a river to refill their canteens while the first glint of sunlight pressed through the trees.

“Your horse is beautiful,” Flora said, shaking her hair loose from its ties and redoing her braids. “She seems so sweet.”

“Looks can be deceivin’,” Mattie said with a snort, glancing at where June was drinking from the river. “Tamin’ her cost me a sprained ankle and two cracked ribs. June’s a feisty one.”

“Just like her rider,” Flora teased, grinning when Mattie scoffed. She swept her braids over her shoulder and nodded at her horse. “Meanwhile, Bandit would gladly sell my soul for a peppermint.”

Mattie released a startled laugh. “Everyone has their price.”

“Oh! Speaking of...” Flora rummaged in her saddle bag and tossed Mattie a small sack. “Your cut.”

“My cut?” Mattie frowned and opened the bag, nearly choking when she saw the contents. “Where the hell you get this?”

“From the saloon,” Flora said innocently, her eyes shining. “I took the liberty of robbing the place blind after the fight broke out.”

Mattie gaped at her. “But why are you givin’ me half your share?”

“Because you started the fight.”

“You are somethin’ else,” Mattie said, shaking her head and stowing the money in her saddle bags. “How’d you get so good at stealin’, anyways?”

“Lots of practice,” Flora said, looking pleased as punch. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply. “Your brand of chaos isn’t half bad either.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. Matie retrieved a cigarette too, more for something to do with her hands than because she wanted a smoke.

She put the cigarette between her lips and patted her pockets for a match before abruptly remembering the previous day.  

“Goddammit,” she sighed, shaking her head when Flora looked at her questioningly. “I meant to pick up matches in town, but then—”

“You picked a fight instead?”

“Well—yes, but—” Mattie smiled winningly, the cigarette still between her lips. “These things happen.”

“For some more than others, I imagine,” she laughed, exhaling a cloud of smoke from the side of her mouth. “Come here.”

Flora leaned forward, tilting up her face so the ends of their cigarettes touched. Her eyes flickered up for a breath, the light catching on her face.

Mattie had spent time in Arizona before realizing how much she’d preferred the plains and forests to the unyielding heat of a semi-desert, but the land out there had been something special.

The ring of color around Flora’s pupil was the exact same shade as the rocks had been in the soft light of morning, a richness and depth of color that faded into the same warm tones found in coffee or the earth.

And then Flora straightened, leaving Mattie to take a deep, shaky drag of her cigarette.

She held the smoke in her lungs before releasing it through her nose. “So, where’re you headed next?”

“I was thinking of going to a town about twenty miles north of here,” Flora said, flicking cinders from the end of her cigarette.

“I know the place,” Mattie said, cutting her eye to the side. “It’s more of a proper city than this dump was.”

“Exactly.” Flora grinned, propping a hand on her hip. “Lots of places for folks to drop some money or lose some valuables.”

Mattie chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What about you?” Flora asked once they’d finished their cigarettes and had mounted their horses. “More bar fights in your future?”

“Not for the time bein,’ no,” Mattie said, leaning down to stroke June’s neck. “I was plannin’ on headin’ north too. You know, if you don’t mind ridin’ together for a bit.”

“That depends.” Flora tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You always this much trouble?”

“Sometimes,” Mattie admitted, leaning forward in the saddle. “But I can usually make it worth your while.”

“Somehow I don’t doubt it,” Flora said, her smile as bright as the new day. “Lead on, sunshine.”

Mattie ducked her head to hide her own smile, facing the horizon.

Together, they rode towards it.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Snow Flurries on the Racetrack

Summary: You forgot to check the forecast when getting dressed for Hyunjae’s race, which led to you freezing while waiting for him to race. And no amount of warm apple cider could fix your shivers. Good thing, Hyunjae always has a blanket in his backseat. 

Oneshot

Fluff, Slightly Suggestive?, Established Relationship au

Possible warning?: You are wearing a ‘hot’ outfit- that isn’t described- but it’s not warm.

Word Count: 1,829

Hyunjae X Reader

Not Requested

Prompt: 7. First snowfall on the *car* track

[A/n: This is based off of drag strip bracket racing. It doesn’t go into too much detail, but I'll explain! Two cars race against each other, when the drag strip “Christmas tree” goes through ten lights: two sets of pre-stage, two sets of stage, three yellows, and turns green! Both racers barrel down the strip. It happens very fast. The person who crosses the finish line/has the fastest time advances to the next round! This is the legal version of street racing because it is “common cars” and not official drag cars racing on the drag strip. (this also won’t be a pink slip race*- (no titles are handed over*))].

------

You felt cute in your outfit when you and Hyunjae left to go to the racetrack with his heater on. He held your hand over the shifter. He took his car through the racer-only entrance. You stayed under the warm tent, watching as Hyunjae tweaked a few things from your stool. As the stands start filling up with people, he comes over after wiping the grease off his hands, places his hands on your thighs, and looks into your eyes, “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?” You smirk, “A few times.” He smiles as he tilts his head and leans into you, “My pretty baby.” You close the gap and kiss him. He pulls away with a grin, “I love you.” You smile, “I love you too.” He kisses your nose and looks over his shoulder, “I would walk you to the stands, but I have a few more things to tweak…” You nod and shrug, “It’s okay. There’s always next time.” He kisses your temple and lets you slide off the stool. He gives you one last hug before you head out of the warm tent. You didn’t know how cold it actually was outside of the tent until you walked out. You instantly shiver but head out into the stands, figuring that with all the warm bodies, you wouldn’t feel cold anymore. 

You were wrong. The longer you stood there, the colder you were getting. You sigh, your breath forming a little cloud of mist, and remember the concession stands had started carrying warm drinks until the end of the season. You leave the stands, rethinking your whole outfit the whole way down. You shivered, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you waited in line. You look up the temperature and forecast on your phone as you wait for the line to move forward. And find that you’re supposed to get the first snow of the season tonight. You smile even though you are freezing. At least the snow would make it feel at least a little worth it. You finally get the chance to order and hum happily as you sip on your warm apple cider. You head back to the stands, still slightly shivering but with your hands toasty from the warm drink. You feel a lot nicer. You get up to your seat and see Hyunjae standing there with a teasing smile on his face, with his hands behind his back, waiting for you. You come up to him and ask, “Shouldn’t you be on the track?” He hums, “Yes and no…” You tilt your head and feel the cold wind blow, making you visibly shiver. Even the apple cider couldn’t fend you from the wind. “Do you want a blanket?” You nod, and he smiles as he brings it out from behind his back, letting it unfurl before happily putting it around you. “You’re so cute…” He kisses your temple, “Feel better?” You nod, “You wanna a sip?” He smiles, “Yeah.” He takes the cup from your hand, and you grab the blanket, bringing it over your hands as he takes a sip of apple cider. 

He tells you, “I’m more towards the middle, so... I can watch the first few races with you.” You grin, and he turns you around and wraps you up in his arms. You sigh, and he offers you a sip of the apple cider, guiding it to your lips and helping you take another sip. You cover his empty hand in the blanket. The first race begins, and you watch Juyeon’s hot pink Audi barrels down the strip. Hyunjae laughs, “Looks like if I win, I’ll be going against him again.” You laugh and lean your head back against his shoulder, “I guess so.” You watch three other races before Sangyeon comes out, and he says, “I got three left before me if I’m not back there. I’ll be disqualified…” You hum, and he hands you your now lukewarm apple cider, and you give him a good luck kiss before telling him, “Go get ‘em, tiger!” He giggles before rushing off. “I promise I will!” 

You watch the other racers sitting down and enjoy the sounds of them whizzing by as the ‘Christmas tree’ turns green. When his sleek black supra pulls up, you stand up to watch him with bated breath. When the light turns green, he barrels down the track. You cheer as he finishes first in 8.6 seconds. His opponent catches up just after him as Hyunjae slows down to follow the track around to the beginning. You know he’s going to work on his car a bit, so you head out of the stands to see him again. You get under his tent and toast up against the heater while you wait for his car to pull up. He backs in and hops out, “We’re going to make it to the semi-finals, baby!” You nod and hold out your arms for him to come in. He smiles, “You really wore your hottest outfit tonight, huh?” You blush and sweetly tell him, “Just for you~” He smirks and kisses your neck, his warm hands resting on your waist as he hugs you in front of the heater. You don’t let him forget he still has to keep his head in the game as you kiss his cheek, “I’m so proud of you.” He pulls away with a pout, which makes you laugh. “Sorry, baby… but you have to think about winning~” He rolls his eyes and kisses your forehead. “Thanks, baby.” You stay like that for a few minutes until he pulls away, “I have to check on one thing, but you can stay in front of the heater.” You hum and face the heater and soak it all in as Hyunjae pops his hood. 

You give him a good luck kiss when it’s time for him to get in line again. And you leave the stands desperately wanting to be back in, knowing that you’d be waiting out in the stands for the rest of the evening if he wins this time. You watch in the stands as he wins again, and he does, and you get yourself another apple cider, knowing he’d be here for the semi-finals and possibly the finals, too. And he’s already in line again to race second. You get your warm apple cider in a hurry, warming your hands up as you return to the stands. Juyeon wins over Sangyeon with time to spare. Changmin’s Corvette roars and pulls up to the starting line before Hyunjae. You hum as you watch on, drinking your warm cider as the officials talk above. The Christmas tree runs through the signals, and they’re off. You cross your fingers, hoping he’ll somehow win against him. He crossed the finish line with Changmin hot on his trail, his parachute popping out as he crossed the finish line to help him slow down as his time read even faster at 8.243 seconds. You close your eyes, drinking your last sip before pitching your cup, thankful that he made it to the finals.

You gulp as you remember that Juyeon recently rebuilt his engine, which is why he was doing so well. And what worried you was how different his reaction time on and off the track was. If Hyunjae slips up and doesn’t gun it instantly, he’d be done for. You watch Hyunjae and him pull up together, and as they rev their engines, you pull the blanket around you tighter in worry. As much as you wanted to be where the heater was, you wanted Hyunjae to win that much more. You feel something cold nip at your nose, narrow your eyes at it, and notice it’s a drop of water. You wipe your nose off. And look up to see a few flakes starting to come down. You were so focused on the build-up to the race that you hadn’t even noticed it had begun to snow. You smile and hope this is a good sign. You refocus on the race and watch the Christmas tree intently. And the second it turns green, they both barrel down the strip. You can hear everyone taking in a sharp breath as they watch on with how close they are. It’s anyone’s game. Part of you doesn’t even want to look. But you see the number “7.953” flash on the scoreboard as their parachutes kick out. Yet, it’s unclear who hit the finish line first until the announcer overhead says, “Hyunjae has won within a fraction of a second. Juyeon came in at 7.954.” You cheer loudly. The snow was worth it in more ways than one way. 

You rush down the stands with your blanket tightly held closed in one hand as everyone runs through the gate and past the finish line. You see Hyunjae get out of his car and shake Juyeon’s hand. Juyeon nods at him and leaves without a further word. You push through the crowd with little ‘Excuse me’s and ‘Pardon me’s as you go towards him. And by the time you’re in front of him, Hyunjae has already received his cash prize, a large bouquet, and a small trophy. You see him smelling the flowers with his eyes closed. You take in the sight as you come closer. He sees you and grins, putting his trophy down as you run into his open arm, and he picks you up. You squeal as you cheer, “You won!” He grins and wraps his bouquet-filled arm around your blanket-covered back, keeping you close to him. You barely hear him say over the cheering crowd, “All because you were here, my lucky charm.” He kisses you under the light flurries of snow. You can’t help but grin into the kiss. When he parts, he grins, “Let’s go home, baby.” You tilt your head and ask, “Victory burnout?” He laughs, “A victory isn’t complete without one.” He opens the door for you and places the bouquet onto your lap, “For you, my love.” You laugh as he holds his trophy high, showing it off to the crowd as they all chant his name. He quickly puts his parachute back into its holder. And everyone backs up as he gets in the car after shutting your door. You feel the heat from the fans blowing on you. You sigh at the warmth, and he says, “I kept the heater on for you. I knew you were freezing from that cute little outfit.” You laugh as he puts his trophy in the back, “But it helped fuel your win, right?” He laughs and kisses your cheek, “Damn right.” He holds his brakes as he holds the gas down, his tire squealing as the rubber burns and creates clouds of smoke. He pulls off before the smoke can cover his vision as you both wave your hands out the window and head out.

[thelittlestladylikesthis]

The Pink Rose, part 5

Part Five- July 7th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,119

Warnings: heterosexual relationship, light smut, fluff, reference to violence, arguing

It had been three days since [Y/n] and Haymitch had accompanied their tributes to the Capitol. Three days since Haymitch’s bad first impression had potentially revealed what the tributes were capable of. [Y/n] sat staring at her plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. She had a notebook and pen for notes as she listened to Haymitch explain the importance of the training days and knowing what their skills are. 

As in most things, Katniss was conservative about her skills. Peeta emphasized how good of a shot she was with a bow and arrow. Katniss responds by mentioning Peeta could throw hundred pound bags of flour and that he knows how to wrestle. 

“What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?” Peeta said with a grimace.

Katniss shot back with an angry tone, “There’s always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you’ll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I’m dead!” 

“But you won’t! You’ll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!” Peeta shouted.

“Oh, she meant you,” Katniss dismissed.

“She said, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’She is,” Peeta said quietly.

The room stood still. [Y/n] felt her heart drop and an instant dislike of Mrs. Mellark. Who in Panem tells their own child they’re going to die after being selected in a reaping. The farewell opportunity is a time to wish for their safety and build them up. That bitch tore him down- she berated her son for someone else’s daughter.

After Peeta and Katniss calm down, Haymitch hesitantly restarts the conversation and insists that they spend their training days learning a new skill and under no circumstances showing the other tributes what they’re capable of- to save that for the Gamemakers.

“One last thing. In public, I want you by each other’s side every minute,” says Haymitch. The two teens start to object before Haymitch makes everyone jump by slamming his hand on the table, “Every minute! It’s not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training.”

The two of them left the room and the sound of Katniss’ bedroom slamming echoed through their quarters.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors in her eyes,” [Y/n] said.

“I’m not here to be her friend, I don’t even want to be a mentor. But since she threw a knife and you’re more invested in what you see, I’m willing to play along,” Haymitch explained., “What are you doing?”

[Y/n] looked at him out the side of her eye and saw he was referring to her notes, “I’m writing what I know. I’m trying to see what I can confidently say or twist for the sponsors. But I need to be careful,”

“Careful? I think you mean ruthless,”

“No. Careful. The deepest pockets always want something in return. I also need to remember who I have dirt on,”

“You sound like Finnick Odair,”

“Not necessarily a bad thing in this scenario. He’s good at getting sponsors and since we’re good friends, it might be entertaining to see who we can snag this year,” [Y/n] smirked.

Haymitch chuckled in unison. The idea of pulling a fast one on some of the other tributes was an entertaining thought. He didn’t realize how fast time had gone until Peeta and Katniss emerged from their rooms, ready to go find Effie.

Once they were truly alone, Haymitch rose from his chair to stand behind [Y/n]’s chair, “You should really loosen up Sweetheart,” Haymitch whispers as he starts to rub [Y/n]’s neck and shoulders. As excitable as having beloved tributes is, it is almost more stressful than having tributes who fly under the radar. [Y/n] gave a quiet moan of pleasure as Haymitch somehow gave an excellent shoulder massage. His strong, rough fingers ran up and down the stiff muscles in her shoulders, attempting to break up the solid tension that had built there. Suddenly, Haymitch’s hands slowly made their way over her shoulders and over the front of her dress. In the same instant, his lips rest just under her jawbone. He began to kiss her neck with enthusiasm; lightly sucking the skin and running the tip of his tongue over the same spot. [Y/n] felt a shiver run through her body. The heat where he kissed her neck resonated through her torso and went down between her legs. The burn increased as his hands cupped her breasts and found their way under the fabric.

Haymitch whispered against her skin, “It’s been a while since we tried this,”

[Y/n] responded with soft chuckle, “It’s been less than three days,”

“Less than three days too long,” he whispered as hands massaged her breasts.

[Y/n] reached around and ran her fingers into his curls. Her back began to arch as Haymitch circled her nipples with his thumb. His lips left her skin and he trailed his nose up until she felt his warm breath on her ear, “I wanna take you on this table,” he growled. [Y/n] melted at the sound of his lowered voice.

“This better not become a regular occurrence!” a familiar voice trilled prompting [Y/n] and Haymitch to immediately separate. Effie quickly walked across the room muttering quietly, “You’d think they own the place!”

[Y/n] stood up and placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest, “She’s right, we really should be more careful,” 

“We still have an hour to be careful,” Haymitch said as he scooped her up.

“Haymitch!” [Y/n] squealed as he quickly headed towards his bedroom.

“At least be quiet!” Effie yelled from the other room.

*     *     *

After six days in the Capitol, six days of [Y/n] schmoozing sponsors, mediating conversations between Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta, and having a few short interviews with Caesar Flickerman, came private session day. The day where Katniss and Peeta show what they can do. The sessions started after lunch, but Katniss and Peeta would go last since they were from District 12. [Y/n] remembered how infuriating that was. If you were from 12, it was likely that the Gamemakers had indulged themselves on food and drink by the time it was your turn. They were either drunk, tired, or passed out after watching over 20 other demonstrations. 

Effie and Haymitch were engaged in a conversation about the sponsors they’d already gained when Cinna and Portia got off the elevator. It was almost dinner time and they’d want to be hearing about how the sessions went. After about 20 minutes, Peeta got off the elevator and walked to his room to change clothes. Roughly 15 minutes later, Katniss burst out of the elevator and nearly sprinted to her room. Effie, Haymitch, and Portia call after her from the sitting room, but she doesn’t stop. Peeta was in the hall when she passed him, “Hey, was she crying?” he asked with concern. [Y/n] and Effie tried to get Katniss to open the door, but she just yelled for them to go away.

Effie tried again at dinner time and this time returned with Katniss. Katniss avoided eye contact with everyone, including Cinna and  [Y/n]. After a few minutes of small talk, the Avoxes bring dinner to the table and Haymitch starts:

“Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” [Y/n] rolled her eyes and gave him a look of utter disbelief. 

Before Katniss could respond, Peeta said, ““I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.”

“Figures,” scoffed [Y/n].

Cinna shook his head in disappointment, “If they’re going to send them all into the same arena, they could at least afford the same attention instead of acting like that,”

“And you, sweetheart?” asked Haymitch.

Katniss’ eyes remained on her empty plate, “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers,” the room silenced immediately.

“You what?” Effie yelled angrily, face draped in uncharacteristic horror. 

“I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It’s like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just ... I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig’s mouth!” Katniss said with a matter of fact tone of defiance.

“Are you crazy?” Effie almost yelled and saw Haymitch looking at her with a smirk, “I don’t think we’re going to find this funny if-”

“If what?” Haymitch interjected, “If they decide to punish someone?” he gestured to Katniss and Peeta with one hand and himself and [Y/n] with the other, “I think they already have, loosen your corset, have a drink,”

Cinna turned back to Katniss and carefully asked, “And what did they say?”

“Nothing. Or I don’t know. I walked out after that,” she responded

“Without being dismissed?” [Y/n] probed

“I dismissed myself,”

“Are you crazy?!” Effie trilled.

Haymitch ripped off a hunk of meat from his pork chop and leaned over to take a bite before stopping and chuckling,”What were their faces like?”

[Y/n] could see the twitch of a smile on the edges of Katniss’ mouth, “Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”

Everyone but Effie burst into a fit laughter. Haymitch even looked as if he were going to cry. [Y/n] had not had a laugh that good in a long while.

Effie looked as if she were trying to avoid smiling, “Well, it serves them right. It’s their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you, that’s what I think,”

“I’ll get a very bad score,” the smile slowly fell from Katniss’ face.

“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones,” Portia chipped in.

“For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy all the time,” [Y/n] said with a reassuring smile.

[Y/n] turned her attempt at motherly reassurance to Peeta as he followed her with, “I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get… if that,”

After dinner, the group settles in the sitting room to watch the scores be announced on television. A photo of the tribute appears on the screen and after they’ve been introduced, their score appears below them. The Career Tributes all score between 8 and 10. Most others score around 5. [Y/n] reminds Peeta and Katniss that this is normal. Then remembers most District 12 tributes generally score 4-6 and hopes that Katniss and Peeta don’t remember that.

Twenty-two tributes go across the screen when they finally see Peeta. The group celebrates while Peeta comes to terms with his score of 8. Katniss remained stoic in her seat, radiating anxiety before her number flashes underneath her picture:

“Eleven!” Effie squeals.

Cinna and Portia cheer and congratulate her. [Y/n] and Haymitch excitedly give each other a hug and then join the congratulations.

Katniss is still in disbelief, “There must be a mistake. How ... how could that happen?”

“I guess they liked your guts,” Haymitch said. 

“They’ve got a show to put on. They need some players with heat.” [Y/n] added.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says Cinna, “Oh, wait until you see your interview

dress.” 

“More flames?” Katniss asked 

“Of a sort,” he chuckled mischievously.

The group wrapped up the congratulations, discussed their schedules for tomorrow, and headed off to their rooms. 

Back in his room and uncharacteristically brushing his teeth before bed, Haymitch felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He looked down and recognized the carefully manicured hands of [Y/n]. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,”

[Y/n] nuzzled her forehead between his shoulder blades, “Do you think they can do it?”

“Well I know you don’t mean ‘can they both win’. So, do what?”

“Work together. Can one of them overcome this?”

“I guess we’ll see. There’s something there in both of them,”

Masterlist

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season two, part two

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetz1919 @moonmark98 @sarahbaker2010 @ririi-3 @ryoujoking @hayley1998 @crazyunsexycool @Lettersfromyourlove (can’t tag last one)

Masterlist

The next morning you were all up bright and early, ready to go back to searching for Sophia. Rick laid out a knife sheath across the hood of a car, which Carl had apparently found yesterday.

“Everyone takes a weapon.” He spoke.

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need.” Andrea huffed. “What about the guns?”

“We’ve been over that. Daryl, Rick, Y/N and I are carrying.” Shane explained. “We can’t have people popping off rounds any time a tree rustles.”

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about.”

“Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it’s game over for all of us, so you need to get over it.”

Daryl stepped forward. “The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she’ll be by the creek, it’s her only landmark.”

 “Stay quiet and stay sharp.” Rick warned. “Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other.”

“Everybody assemble your packs.” You spoke.

Rick turned to Dale, who was sitting on the steps of the RV. “Keep on repairs, we need this RV ready to move.”

Dale nodded, standing up. “We won't stay here a minute longer than we have to. Good luck out there.”

“Keep an eye on Carl while we’re gone?” Rick asked and Dale nodded.

“No, I’m coming with you.” Carl protested. “You need people, right? To cover as much ground as possible.”

Rick looked at Lori, who shook her head. “Your call. I can’t always be the bad guy.”

“Well, he has all of us to look after him.” You spoke up.

In all honesty, after Sophia went missing, you weren’t quite happy to have Carl far away from the rest of the family right now. As much as the woods could be dangerous, you would feel much better having him nearby.

Rick sighed. “Okay, but always within our sight. No exceptions.”

Rick and Lori walked away and Carl looked up at you, smiling.

You gave him a wink before getting serious. “Please don’t make me regret this. I mean it, you stay close to one of us always.”

Carl nodded. “I promise. Thank you.”

You nodded back, hugging your nephew before turning to Dale. “Please keep an eye on T-Dog. I’m worried about his arm.”

Dale nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I will, don’t worry.”

You smiled, heading off to get your backpack together for the journey.

…

You all had been searching the woods for a little while when suddenly, Daryl crouched behind a bush. Everyone followed his lead, crouching down behind him. Shane was the only one still standing.

“She could be in there.” Shane gestured towards a tent in a small section surrounded by trees and bushes.

“Could be a whole bunch of things in there.” Daryl responded.

Daryl stood up, slowly making his way towards the tent with his crossbow raised. You followed close behind, clutching your knife tight in your hand. Eventually, Daryl signaled for you to go ahead of him.

Approaching the tent, you tried your best to focus and listen for any noises coming from inside. As much as you hoped to find Sophia in there, you had to be ready for other possibilities.

Behind you, Rick whispered for Carol to come join them.

“Call out softly,” He told her. “If she’s in there, your voice should be the first she hears.”

Carol nodded. “Sophia, sweetie, are you in there?”

There was no answer, and you gestured for her to continue.

“Sophia, it’s mommy.” Carol tried again. “We’re all here, you don’t have to be afraid.”

With there still being no answer, Daryl, Rick and Shane came to your side. You took a deep breath, slowly unzipping the tent and pulling back the opening. As soon as you did, a strong smell of death hit you.

You began coughing, covering your nose. Inside was the corpse of a man, who had probably been there for weeks at this point. Daryl stepped inside the tent with you, grabbing a gun from the man’s hand.

“Daryl?” Carol called out.

Daryl placed the gun in the back of his pants, stepping out of the tent ahead of you. “It ain’t her.”

Carol let out a sigh of relief, Lori giving her a comforting hand.

“What’s in there?” Andrea asked.

“Some guy.” You responded.

“Did what Jenner said. Opted out.” Daryl added. “Ain't that what he called it?”

Your mind raced back the events of yesterday morning. After the last twenty four hours, it felt like forever ago. You hadn’t really had a chance to process it yet; the decision you had almost made. In a way, you felt like that might be a good thing.

Suddenly, bells began ringing in the distance, causing you all to look around anxiously.

“Maybe that’s Sophia?” You suggested.

Rick pointed to an opening in the brush, running forward as everyone followed close behind. Before long, you arrived at a small church.

“That can’t be it.” Shane spoke. “It’s got no steeple, no bells.”

Rick ignored him, racing through the cemetery. Reluctantly, you all continued to follow his lead. You finally made it to the front doors of the church, preparing your weapons. When you were all ready, Rick swung the doors open.

Sitting in the pews were five people, facing the podium. The sound of the doors opening caused them all to turn around, revealing that they were walkers. You all stared in disbelief as the walkers slowly stood up, making their way towards your group. Shane, Rick and Daryl made their way forward, taking out each of the walkers.

Rick began to call out for Sophia, as your eyes remained fixed on the scene in front of you. You were never religious, but this felt beyond surreal.

“I’m telling you, Rick. It’s the wrong church.” Shane spoke. 

As if on cue, the bell began to ring again. You all raced outside, looking around. Finally Daryl pointed to a PA system on the side of the building, which Glenn quickly shut down.

“It’s on a timer.” Daryl shook his head.

Everyone remained silent for a moment, a sense of dread washing over you all. For the first time since Sophia had gone missing, you could feel that everyone was starting to lose hope.

“I’m going to go inside for a bit.” Carol choked out, turning around and heading back to the church.

…

A while later, your group stood outside the church with Shane approaching.

“Y’all are gonna follow the creek bed back, okay?” He spoke. “Daryl, you’re in charge.”

“Wait, what about Sophia?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. “I know we’re all feeling discouraged, but we can’t just give up.”

“Rick and I are going to hang back here, keep searching for another hour. Just to be sure we didn’t miss her.” Shane responded. “We’re not giving up, no chance. I just think we need to rest and regroup.”

Daryl shifted his feet. “You’re sure about splitting us up?”

Shane nodded. “Yeah, we’ll catch up to you.”

“I want to stay with dad.” Carl spoke from behind you. “I’m her friend.”

Lori looked at her husband for a moment before stepping forward, placing her hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

“When did you start growing up?” Lori smiled, kissing her son on his forehead.

You hated the idea of leaving Rick and Carl with Shane. After that night at the CDC, despite all the history there, you had a hard time trusting him at all. You knew he was dangerous, but all you could do now was pray he would never put Carl in harm's way.

“Here, take my gun.” Rick spoke to Lori.

“And leave you without one? I don’t think so.” She responded.

“I have a spare.” Daryl spoke, reaching into his pants and handing it to Lori. “She can use it.”

Rick nodded, placing his gun back in its holster. “You guys be safe.”

“You too.” You smiled, both groups going their separate ways.

…

“So this is it?” Carol asked, sitting on a log. “This is the whole plan?”

You’d been walking for a while now and everyone was beginning to feel even more irritated. Not finding Sophia was taking a toll on everyone, and some part of you all were hoping you’d have found her by now on your walk back.

“I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups.” Daryl mumbled.

“Carrying knives and pointy sticks.” Andrea added before glaring at Lori. “Except for you, of course.”

“Do you want my gun, Andrea? Take it.” Lori responded, stepping closer to her. “I’m tired of the looks and the petty comments. From all of you.”

Andrea stared down at the gun in Lori’s hand for a moment before reaching out and taking it from her. Lori turned her attention away from the scene, kneeling down to Carol’s level.

“Honey, I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I would do anything to stop it but you have got to stop blaming Rick. It shows on your face every time you look at him. ” She spoke. “When Sophia ran he didn’t hesitate, did he? Not for a second. I don’t think any of us would’ve ran after her the way he did. We couldn’t have made any of the hard decisions he’s had to make nor could we have done things any differently.”

You knew she was right. From the moment your brother had arrived at the Quarry, things had changed. You all finally had someone you could really look to when things were hard. As much as Shane ran things before, he’d never truly taken on what Rick had. If it wasn’t for Rick, you had no doubt you’d all have died the night the Quarry was overrun.

Lori shook her head, continuing. “You all look to him and then blame him when he’s not perfect. If you think you can do it without him, go right ahead. Nobody is stopping you.”

Andrea’s eyes were focused on the ground for a few moments, before finally she approached Lori. She handed her back the gun, an apologetic look across her face. “We should keep moving.”

You looked at Lori, who nodded in agreement as she stood up. As soon as she did, a loud bang echoed throughout the woods. Everyone froze, looking up at the sky.

“What was that?” Carol asked.

You took a deep breath, your stomach turning as your skin turned pale. “I-I think it was a gunshot.”

“Doesn’t matter right now.” Daryl spoke up. “We need to keep moving.”

Nodding, you took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

…

As you moved further through the woods, Lori began to turn back to face the direction you’d been coming from.

“Still worrying about it?” Andrea asked.

“It was a gunshot.” Lori reminded her. 

“We all heard it.” Daryl agreed.

Lori shook her head. “Why one? Why just one gunshot?”

“Maybe they took down a walker.”

“Please don’t patronize me.” Lori huffed. “You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gunshot to put down one walker, or Shane. They’d do it quietly.”

“Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?” Carol asked.

“There's nothing we can do about it, anyway.” Daryl responded. “Can't run around these woods chasing echoes.”

“Daryl’s right.” You responded. “Rick wouldn’t want us all getting lost trying to look for him. It was one gunshot. We have to believe that one of them is safe and will find us.”

“So, what do we do then?” Lori folded her arms across her chest.

“Same as we’ve been doing.” Daryl spoke. “Keep looking for Sophia and work our way back to the highway.”

“I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV.” Andrea spoke before turning to Carol. “I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel.”

“I suppose you do- Thank you. The thought of her, out here by herself.. It's not knowing that's killin' me. I just keep hoping and praying she doesn't wind up like Amy.” Carol gasped at her own words. “Oh, God! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever said.”

Andrea’s eyes fell for a moment. “We’re all hoping and praying with you, for what it’s worth.”

“I'll tell you what it's worth– Not a damn thing. It's a waste of time, all this hoping and praying.” Daryl snapped, his eyes landing on Carol. “We're gonna locate that little girl. She's gonna be just fine. Am I the only one Zen around here? Good lord.”

Daryl went back to walking towards the highway and you all continued to march after him.

“How much further?” Lori asked.

“Not much… Maybe a hundred yards as the crow flies.” Daryl shrugged.

“Too bad we’re not crows.” Andrea responded.

Daryl, Glenn and Carol walked ahead of you, while Andrea and Lori remained further behind you. Suddenly, Andrea began to scream.

You turned around, spotting a walker approaching her and she laid on the ground. She was slowly crawling backwards, but the walker was gaining on her.

Pulling your knife out, you began rushing towards her when the sound of a horse distracted you. It was trotting towards Andrea, a woman holding a baseball bat on its back. As she rode by Andrea, she knocked the walker down with the bat before coming to a complete stop.

“Lori?” She asked. “Lori Grimes?”

Lori looked back at the woman. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“You need to come with me. There’s been an accident. Carl’s been shot.”

------

AN: Here we are with another part! I hope you all enjoyed it. Please remember to like/reblog if you did <3

[angstyaches]

The Hexagon: Part Four

Parts One-Two | Part Three

CW: effects of exhaustion/hunger, magical whump, dissociation, auditory hallucinations, supernatural hunger, body horror, emeto, guilt, fear.

___

On a primal level, Shayne felt the forest's demonic inhabitants bristle and awaken to the presence of a predator. Not that he was much of a threat now.

He reached for his hunting instincts, but his stupid, useless attempts to break down the wards had emptied him out. And after two and a half days of no food, little water, and practically no sleep, his human energy reserves were just as low. 

With everything he had boiled down to fumes, all he could do was try to funnel those fumes into the chase.

The cloaked figure didn't sprint for too long before stopping in a small clearing.

As he slowed down, Shayne's stomach cramped sharply, the pains made much worse by the ragged breaths he was forcing into his lungs. The figure turned, their face in profile over their shoulder. He didn't see their eyes, but he felt their stare.

The air seemed to take on a thick consistency, and Shayne was struck by a wave of dread.

If you step into that clearing, something terrible will happen to Charlie.

Shayne's legs became rooted to the spot, and he stood there, trembling. He couldn't cross the invisible barrier into the clearing any more than he could have passed through the hexagon's walls.

Was this... magic?

“Who the fuck are you?” He pushed every ounce of strength he had into his voice, and still it came out quieter than his frantic breaths. All he wanted was to step closer, to look at their face, to... to know – 

And then a door unfolded itself from the forest floor. 

Shayne blinked, willing the impossible image away, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it again, standing isolated amongst the tree trunks. It was painted a greyish colour, in neat, yet visible, vertical brushstrokes, and had a large, brassy-looking doorknob.

The cloaked figure turned to face it, as though it were the most natural thing to find tucked away in the middle of the forest.

A fucking door. 

Their hand reached for the doorknob.  

“Wait...” Shayne tried pushing himself forward, groaning as nausea rolled over him. “Please, just fucking wait –” 

One push on the wood, and the cloaked figure was gone, and the painted door along with them. There was a short burst of those same purple orbs, though they descended and dissolved a lot more quickly this time. A weight lifted from Shayne's shoulders as the magic dispersed, but a hefty amount of that sickening dread seemed to have belonged to him all along.

He staggered forward, alone, and collapsed onto his hands and knees. 

His vision was blurry. His breath came faster and faster as he realised he had no way to know if what he’d just seen had been real. If any of this had been real. If his own hands, numb with adrenaline, were real. If the demons that began to circle the clearing, some cautious, some eager to investigate, were real. 

They were coming close. Too close. 

Aren’t you hungry?

Red eyes in the dark, twisting in the edges of his vision. Dispersing and reforming each time he blinked. Cold on the back of his neck as her mouth twisted into a sinister smile.

Don’t you know that this is all you are good for, little monster? 

Shayne curled forward, blocking the back of his neck with both hands, and whimpered. Not real. She didn’t get to be real. She didn’t get to be... here... 

Right?

But that demon magic –

Shayne didn't have the chance to finish that thought, because every nerve was now screaming at him. He raised his head, watching as glimmering puddles took shape in the air and spiraled towards him. 

Demons. Real.  

Shayne closed his eyes and reached for the very last thing that he had.

The hunger had been so easy to push aside for the sake of escape attempts, and then keeping a level head, and then giving chase to whoever or whatever had taken down the wards. And it had been easy for the forest to forget what he was when he’d been conveniently tucked away. But Shayne was a predator here, and his prey didn’t have the luxury of recognising him for what he was.  

So instead of fleeing, they swarmed inwards, curious. 

Saliva flooded into Shayne’s mouth as he growled – or tried to, but the sound became a drowned gurgle in his throat. Instead of threatening, he sounded wounded, pathetic.

Hungry.

He didn’t want to feel it, didn’t want it to close in around his thoughts, but it was there. Always lying in wait.

He picked up a hand from the forest floor and pressed it to his belly, felt it shift and rumble under his burned palm. He exhaled and let his jaws relax, and they fell wide. His mouth water directly onto the pine needles, saliva almost turning to acid as his stomach roiled.

He fought the urge to let himself curl up as the demons crept closer. They needed to see him. They needed to know what he was. And he couldn't show them his strength, so they needed to see that his weakness was just as dangerous.

They needed to see exactly what he was good for.

He worked the empty clawing in his stomach into a growl.

The demon closest to him flinched into a retreat, never revealing its shape or hinting at its remnants. It was just gone. The others slowed their approach, their curiosity evaporating into an overly-familiar haze of fear.

Once the danger was lifted, the hunger brought clarity with it like a slap to the face.

“Oh, god, Charlie,” Shayne groaned.

Someone had taken down the wards, and he had immediately abandoned Charlie to chase after them. He wiped his mouth and stood up on legs that just would not stop shaking. It didn’t matter; he didn’t get to take it easy on himself after he had left Charlie alone, unconscious and half-starved and fearing for his life.

He had to find his way back to him.

Shayne had never gotten turned around in a forest in his life, and he dreaded that this would be the first time. His stomach was roiling – as much with stress as with hunger – his head was reeling, and this wasn’t any of his usual haunts.

Demons still stalked the shadows between the trees. Some hadn’t quite caught on, and sneaked up close enough that Shayne had to keep baring his teeth to get them to fuck off. 

After following what he hoped was the right way back, his legs lost a battle with an gentle incline. He sank onto his knees, growling weakly at three demons who had convened around one spot.

They ignored him, their attention elsewhere.

Shayne whimpered softly. God fucking damn it. He lifted his chin and tilted his head back, but jaws remained where they were, unhinged. The aching chasm inside of him screamed out, and he lunged, barely stopping himself from snapping his teeth shut around one of the scattering demons. He managed to dial the desperate hunger down to a warning snarl, and dug his fingers into the pine needles until the three demons shrank in on themselves and fled.

Shayne twisted to the side and retched acid onto the ground. “Charlie.”

He crawled to close the last bit of distance between them. He hadn’t fully registered Charlie’s curled-up form behind the curious demons, at least not with any of his human senses.

But he’d found him.

The first thing he did was quickly scan him over, searching for scratches. Then he felt for CT’s horn; still active, but weaker than it should have been. Charlie himself didn't seem to have stirred from his .

“Fucking heavy sleeper,” Shayne whispered. He gritted his teeth, fought back tears, and tried not to think about how badly he wanted to just curl up and sleep too. “Charlie?”

He brushed a thumb beneath over Charlie’s cheek, lingering beneath his eyes, where darkness had gathered and sunk into his skin.

“Charlie, wake up.” 

“Ugh,” Charlie mumbled.

“You have to wake up, love.”

A twitch went through Charlie's limbs. He lifted his head from his arm, squinting in the golden sunlight that cut through the tree trunks.

“Hi, lovely.”

“Um, yeah. Hi, Charlie.” Even now, even here, after everything, Shayne’s stomach fluttered as Charlie’s blue eyes looked up at him from under heavy, sleep-drawn eyelids. “The wards are down.”

Charlie flung himself upright. “What?”

“We're going home,” Shayne said, and he could barely believe it himself.

“H-how?” Charlie glanced about, steadying himself by clutching Shayne’s shoulders as he flung his own from side to side. “I don't get it. Wh-what did...?”

Charlie paused. His Adam's apple bobbed as he eyed Shayne up and down. Shayne's heart sank, and he pressed the heels of his hands to his jaws, working them back into place with a grinding pain and a grimace. There wasn't much he could do about the saliva and acid spilled down the front of his t-shirt and jacket.

“What did you do?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing. It wasn’t me.” 

“Somebody came for us?” 

“No. Yeah...” A tightness rose in Shayne’s chest. The figure in the cloak. The wards disappearing in an instant. The disappearing door. Was there any way of explaining it all without sounding like he’d hallucinated all of it? “Kind of. Maybe.” 

Charlie shook his head. “What?” 

“Ugh. Later,” Shayne said through his teeth. He stood up. He swayed slightly until he forced himself to focus again. The forest was still very aware of both their presence, but being back with Charlie, he felt sharper. More restless, too. He lowered a hand towards Charlie, resisting the urge to just grab hold of him and drag him up. “It’s still just you and me, so let’s get back to your car. Come on.” 

“Car,” Charlie mused, as though he’d thought he’d never say the word again. Or have use for one. “I-I can’t... I can’t... remember the way back.” 

“It’s okay. I do.” 

Charlie placed his hand into Shayne’s. “What if... there's more traps?” 

“There weren’t any on our way here. Until we got... here.” Shayne could feel the tremble in Charlie’s grip as he helped him to his feet. “We’ll take the exact same way back.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Shayne winced at how easily Charlie’s weight dropped against him, but he was kind of relieved to feel the warmth of him in his arms. His legs shook and his jaws were killing him, but he had the chance to get Charlie to safety after he’d acted so stupidly, and he wasn't going to fuck it up. “We're getting the fuck out of here, love.”

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 3

Part 3: The Desperate Type

Series Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count:
 4.9k  Warnings: description of injury, blood. A/N: early update! i was just so excited to post this lol. considering how much action was in the last two parts, i figured these two deserved a break. but while they might be clear of danger (for now), theres still some nasty tension to deal with... 

No, no, no.

Your head snapped left, right, then left again. It was the same blur of trees, the same piles of ashes, and the same empty spot ahead of you no matter how many times your eyes ran across the camp. 

With a deep inhale, you tried to soothe the increasingly frantic thoughts in your mind before they became rampant. Inhale. Pick away the moments of silence to cling onto so that you could just think. 

Daryl had left you alone. Defenceless and hurt— asleep. 

You weren’t sure for how long, exactly; the fire burned to ashes hours ago by the look of it, and mid-day rays of sun landed across the scatter of leaves where he’d been sitting last. He could’ve slipped away in the middle of the night or just as dawn was breaking. Hell, maybe he left the second your eyes shut. 

The steadily increasing pound of your heart seemed to drown out the muted throb of your leg. Enough that when you gripped the bark of the tree behind you and pulled yourself to a stand, you barely hissed as your weight shifted onto the hurt muscle. The tending of your wound had been done well, considering the circumstances; it helped counteract the effects of yesterday’s sprint, which couldn’t have been good for a healing injury. 

But, neither were the dull teeth of the dead ripping you apart. 

Stood upright with a quiet prayer to find a glimpse of that angel-winged vest beyond the tree’s cover, you scanned the area. A small bottle on the ground caught your eye. The blue label was peeling. Familiar. 

The ibuprofen he’d given you. 

You gingerly bent down to pick it up and dry swallowed another pill in anticipation of the day ahead— regardless if he’d really left you behind, or not, you knew you couldn’t stay at this camp much longer. With no walls, even if you had your knife, neither of you were safe. 

As if to remind you of that fact, a branch snapped in the distance.

Still clutching the tree’s curved bark, you leaned forward a couple of inches and peaked toward the general direction of the noise. 

Please don’t be a biter. 

Then, every curse and panicked thought slipped away from the simple sight of that crossbow strap wrapped across his chest. A furry animal hung limp in his grip and his shoulders were low underneath his poncho. 

It was obvious he was exhausted. Still, the sight of you standing upright made his other hand tighten around the strap of his bow and his shoulders tense again. In an almost ironic manner— considering he still had all your weapons— you raised the hand that wasn’t holding you steady in surrender. 

You gave a timid shrug. “Figured I shouldn’t just sit here all day.” 

He scoffed something under his breath. From the way his eyes slipped back down to the ground, you assumed that answer was soothing enough. It might’ve been arrogant to assume he regarded you as a significant risk, but it was clear that he wasn’t the type to take those chances, anyway. 

As he walked past, prey still in hand, your attention followed; you hopped on your good leg to angle yourself the way of him and that rabbit. 

A low growl rumbled from your stomach. 

Of course, he heard it, glancing back at you in the second between straddling the log to your left and slicing into the animal’s belly open. Your grip on the tree dropped as you lowered yourself back onto the soft ground, watching him pull out the guts and bring those ashes back to life. Throughout the entire process, he never once said anything, never gave you more than a glance before his attention was back on the slow rotation of meat over fire. Not even a whisper of an apology, no sorry for letting you think I just left! 

But you weren’t even sure if that mattered anymore. Certainly not the way it did ten minutes ago, because all you could think about was how every brush of the breeze against your face, laced with smoke and the smell of cooked meat, practically had you drooling. 

When your stomach rumbled again, you finally asked, “Would you share?” 

Quick to take a bite, he didn’t show any sign that he heard you, even if he’d been aware of every shift in your spot and growl of hunger, prior. Your chapped lips parted again, ready to plead a second time just to soothe that hollow ache in your gut. 

Something hot fell in your lap, and that smell of cooked meat was at its most intense. You looked down to see he threw a leg your way. 

You’d been hungry before— gone three days without a single bite of anything, once. The lightheadedness and that rumbling in your stomach, like something caving in on itself, weren’t new sensations to you, or anyone else in this world. Thankfully, you also knew the sweet relief of that first bite, and it never failed to shine a beacon of hope on an otherwise dull world, even if all you were biting into was a dry, unseasoned rabbit leg. 

A good while passed in silence. The crack of the fire died down and the rustle of the wind was softer than before. It was like everything around you was settling, and you briefly wondered if the anxiety from the expanse of trees and the overwhelming unknown around you sparked from that dull hunger in your gut, after all. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t you who finally broke that peace. 

“Ya should change tha’.” Daryl nodded to your leg after he swallowed his last bite. 

Your eyes fell to the makeshift bandage. 

“I don’t have another shirt.” 

“Then find somethin’.” He threw the bone into the pile of ashes. “’S gonna get infected if ya keep tha’ on too long.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Got any ideas?” 

Elbows locked around his bent knees, he looked down at the light shine of grease coating his fingers. His brow was straight, his mouth in a tight line, and even that pessimistic part of your mind couldn’t claim it was an effort to find a witty remark; he was serious about whatever he was thinking. 

“Should be a town not too far from ‘ere. You’d have a better chance’a findin’ somethin’ there.” 

It seemed the mix of food and pain relievers did you some good. The tree’s truck was less necessary to stand up, and beyond some dull pain when you put your weight on the leg, it didn’t hurt as bad. 

With a weak smile, you asked, “Mind showing the way?” 

“I’ll take ya there.” He stood, too. “But then you ’n I are goin’ our separate ways.” 

Your smile fell. “Why?” 

“Cause ya ain’t my problem.” He slid his crossbow over his back. “I already helped ya more than once. We’re even.” 

“I can keep helping you,” you said adamantly, though that slight shake of anxiety undermined your words. “I’m not always gonna be hurt. I—I know how to deal with the biters, how to scavenge. I’m smart, I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” you huffed a weak laugh. “I’m not asking you to babysit me or to like me because you probably have every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still all you got.” 

He scoffed, “Didn’t peg ya for the desperate type.” 

Daryl certainly knew how to get under your skin— already— but you’d done much worse than stick by the side of a grumpy man in order to survive before. 

Your demeanour turned pensive. 

“No one can make it alone now.” 

Daryl’s glare lost its arrogance for a moment; a blink of contemplation. 

That seemed to sway him, in or out of your favour, you weren’t sure yet. The way his features tightened, like they had when he first mentioned the town, made you wonder what heavy thoughts plagued him this time. 

He turned on his heel and walked ahead. 

Uncertain if it was even worth it to call out after a man as stubborn as he was proving himself to be, time and time again, your shoulders slumped in defeat.  

“Keep up,” he barked over his shoulder, and your chin snapped back up. “I ain’t carryin’ ya this time.” 

You limped behind.

Compared to the running, falling, and general panic of yesterday, it was relatively easy to keep up with Daryl’s pace today. Without biters on your tail, the two of you fell into a comfortable stroll, weaving between trees with even breaths in your lungs. It helped that your leg was more heavy than painful, only a dull throb that echoed your heartbeat and the pace of your steps. 

Even if the pain had been unbearable, if every nerve of your body was crying, begging, pleading for you to stop, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. There was a sinking feeling in your gut that Daryl might’ve kept walking, anyway. He suddenly seemed to be itching for an opportunity to leave you behind, which disoriented you. His constant reiteration that you weren’t his problem seemed to contradict his actions— coming back for you, wrapping your wound, giving you food. 

You weren’t sure if you’d convinced him that the two of you should stick together— long term— back at that makeshift camp. He could’ve been planning to leave you behind the second you passed the town’s border. But, you did know that with an injured leg, even a healing one, it was really you that couldn’t survive alone. 

Although, maybe it was a bit unfair to blame that fact on your leg. You’d never been a loner, not in this world, anyway. It was part of the reason you joined that camp, a couple of months before Brian did, even if you didn’t get along with everyone. It wasn’t that you had been lying to Daryl— you were smart. You knew how to sneak by and avoid the biters. You could find even the best-hidden supplies. Could think on your feet. You just never liked to be alone. 

Safety in numbers and all that. 

When you did reach the town, or at least the outskirts of its centre, he didn’t immediately bolt. That was as good a sign as any. 

Too bad that was when the lightheadedness came back in full swing. 

You stumbled to a stop, gripping the brick wall of what used to be a post office as an anchor. You closed your eyes and tried to fight through the inevitable exhaustion weighing you down. Blame it on the dehydration, mostly empty stomach, and, of course, the lingering effects of blood loss for an already bruised and battered body. 

“Pharmacy’s jus’ up the road.” 

Daryl was just up ahead, facing your way and squinting from the direct rays of sun. The light caught in small drops of sweat along his arms and the metallic shine of that heavy crossbow in his hand as he waited for you. 

Too busy trying to ground yourself to that rough brick you palmed, you hadn’t even noticed that Daryl had stopped once the shuffle of your feet was no longer echoing his. 

You took a deep breath and nodded once, pushing yourself forward. In four steps, you were able to finally wade past the worst waves of nausea and focus on the cool air in your lungs, instead. 

Daryl glanced back at you once— twice— more. 

“Hurtin’ again?” 

“No. It’s just… everything else.” 

Slightly, he nodded. That seemed to be the most care he had to offer— reserved looks your way and a quick question. He never reached out a hand or, God forbid, offered to carry you there. 

Regardless, the pharmacy really was only up the road. After five or so minutes of mindlessly watching the debris lining the road dance in the wind while giving your head a chance to stop that slow spin, Daryl cleared the store and led you inside.

It was sparse and smelt like rot. Sun peeked through the windows, bare of the newspaper or wooden boards that usually lined shops nowadays. You could see most of the room, the sprawl of crushed supplies under fallen shelves, broken cardboard boxes across dirty, grey-tiled floors, and the yellow hue of water damage staining the ceiling. Past the store's clear windows and unlocked door, its welcoming appearance ceased. 

You stepped forward and caught Daryl’s look from your peripheral. 

“Sit down.” 

“I told you I’m good at—” 

Mid-sentence, he turned on his heel. You huffed a breath, then sat on the window ledge behind with a scowl. His overcautious behaviour was beginning to make you feel useless. 

Daryl came back with fresh gauze and a small tube of topical antibiotic cream. And while that seemed like a damn miracle, you both knew what you really needed was a good rinse with clean water and soap, proper antibiotic treatment for the dirt and sweat that inevitably got into the wound, and a full dressing accompanied by crutches and a week's worth of rest. But all he could offer was what was held in his left hand.

It would have to do. 

You shuffled deeper into the store and away from that clear window. As you sat on the cold ground and adjusted your leg so that it was laid straight out under a particularly strong ray of sunlight, you glanced up at Daryl, lingering a few feet away, on guard. 

“How’d you know this was here, anyway?”

“Been through ‘ere before.” 

He continued to stare out the window, oblivious, or maybe just indifferent, to your attempt at distraction. 

Without another word, you got to work in silence. The knot he tied was good, and it took you a bit too long to figure out the way his fingers had weaved the fabric so that you could reverse the work of a stranger’s kindness. The shelves of the aisle were pressing into your back, but you were more focused on the reemerging pain in your leg. The raw wound was rubbed, gently, with a piece of gauze in a miserable attempt to clean it better. There were bits of dirt that you could see under the sun, bits that he probably missed with nothing but the moonlight to guide his first attempt. 

Sometime in between your soft whines of pain, he grabbed your gun from the back of his pants, weighing the weapon in his hands. The way he held the weapon like it was heavier than his crossbow caught your attention. That, and you were thankful for a second to not stare at the shallow, swollen gash of red and pink ripping through your thigh. He seemed to have felt your stare burning through him, though, and his narrow eyes snapped your way. 

A moment passed in silence, the two of you watching the other, intently, until you finally opened your mouth.

“I wasn’t gonna shoot you,” you confessed, “back at the cabin.” 

He waited for you to continue.

“I was just scared.”

“Why’d ya come back for me?” he asked, gruff voice just above a whisper. 

Deep in thought, you looked between him and the gun. 

“You would’ve died.” Your eyes fell to the ground as you added under your breath, “Enough people already died that day.” 

The slight furrow of his brow, the sudden blink, and every other subtle sign of confusion that flashed across his face weren’t lost on you. Above all else, you understood his bafflement; you’d saved a man who made it abundantly clear that his interest lay in your death. He was going to kill you. It wasn’t a spineless threat or a mean look that could’ve killed— no, he cocked that gun against your forehead. He felt the solid bone of your skull underneath, and if it hadn’t been for the threat of the dead, that bullet would’ve shattered your head open. 

Again, his expression shifted in the silent tension, twisting into something that he might’ve not even known himself. Something hesitant and reserved. 

You wrapped a fresh bandage around the wound as he watched. 

“Then why the poncho?” 

You paused. 

“I know what it’s like to find something that belonged to someone you lost.” 

Your eyes shifted, staring further than they saw. A moment passed like that, you lost in thought and him processing that meaning, until you sucked in a breath and reigned your attention back in. 

You gave a half-hearted smile. “And… maybe I can be a bit foolish.” 

His tone sounded more confused than scolding when he said, “Ya coulda died.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.” You laughed, “Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? Eaten alive because I went back to save a poncho.” 

For a man that probably hated you, no less. 

Those pensive, blue eyes slipped from your timid smile, falling on a much more serious sight; the flimsy wrap of your bandage. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying to wrap it well, but you didn’t exactly have experience tending to your own stab wounds, even if they were as shallow as this one. Your heart dropped an inch, teeth digging into your cheek from the worry that he was about to tell you exactly what an idiot you were, for almost dying and not being able to take care of yourself. 

“’S too loose.” 

You sighed because he was right. Working overtop of your jeans was difficult enough as it was, the risk of infection likely a scary percentage, so the bandage you did manage needed to be stronger. Tougher. Of course, he knew that. 

Right as you began to undo the dressing, calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. Your breath caught in your throat, lips parting as shock froze you from the inside out. His hand moved yours, a stark contrast of warmth against your stiff fingers. He began to unravel the gauze from your grip. White tissue tangled, tied your cold fingers to his meticulous ones, briefly, until the rest of the bundle freed. 

There was something incredibly tender about the whole moment; the silence, for once, was not weighed down completely by a thick, overwhelming tension. Though, whispers of it lingered, understandably so. This was the first time you saw him show you care, beyond saving you from the dead, and it gave you an idea of just how much work he must’ve put into getting you away from that first herd, wrapping your wound, and finding that house to hide in all while you were passed out. 

And suddenly, despite all the mean glares and harsh questioning, hate seemed too strong a word for someone as merciful as Daryl proved. 

“How’d ya get it, anyway?” he asked in a raspy tone. 

You blinked. Inhaled, as if you’d forgotten to breathe until then. 

“Brian,” you answered. “I kinda… jumped him when I realized what it was— what he was. He had a rock or something.” 

He wrapped the last pass of the gauze. It was tight, but it was a lot stronger and safer than your attempt had been. 

“Lucky he didn’t jus’ shoot ya.”

“He lost his gun while fighting that guy.” 

Daryl tensed, leaning back to look up at you. The warmth at your leg was gone then— comfort sorely lacking as the chill of the tile and shelves surrounding you numbed your skin again. Yet, it was the look in his eye that almost made you shiver. 

“Wha’ guy?” 

“The one he was talking to at the fences… Rick, right?” 

The clench of his jaw confirmed your suspicions. 

“He’s not dead.” You leaned down an inch to catch his fallen gaze. “After Brian stabbed me, the woman he took hostage killed him. Probably would’ve killed me too if I hadn’t run away.” Your expression fell at the memory of that dark, vengeful look in her eye. “But I— I think they got out together.” 

Daryl stared at you. It wasn’t cruel or indignant, but it wasn’t soft or kind, either. Blank, if anything, like he was holding everything back. 

He turned toward the front of the store and then stood up. “‘M gonna look for more supplies. You stay ‘ere.” 

The air sucked out of your lungs as a bolt of fear struck you. 

“Daryl?” Your head turned to follow him. Lower lip quivering with blatant anxiety, you croaked out, “You’re not gonna leave me here, are you?”

The tension in his jaw didn’t release. 

“Nah.” 

You bit your lip. “I had to ask.” 

He nodded, then left. 

Not even an hour later, that little bell above the front door you’d been intently watching rang. Daryl’s broad frame passed through with that same backpack strapped behind him, only this time, it looked heavier than before. 

God, please have water. 

You sat up straight. “You’re back.” 

“Told ya I would be.” He slid the bag off, dropping it to the ground in front of you. “Found somethin’ to drink.” 

You smiled at that— actually smiled, teeth and all, and it might’ve been the first time he ever saw it. In your excitement, you didn’t even notice the way his hand steadied, hovering above the bag’s zipper as his attention stuck on you a second too long. 

He pulled out a bottle of some orange sports drink. It was too sweet, swimming with higher sugar contents than you’d been exposed to in the last two years of scavenging and hunting, but it soothed the dryness of your throat, all the same. You drank at least half the bottle, glancing at him between big sips until he finally nodded. 

“There’s only a couple more,” he said, screwing the cap back on. 

“That’s fine.” You shook your head and wiped your chin. “That was good.” 

“Found somethin’ to eat, too.” He pulled a silver can out of the bag. “Lemme heat it, first.” 

You did. He started a small fire just outside the store, letting the can sit above the flames until the soup was boiling. When it was safe to touch, he trailed back through the store and he held it out to you with a single spoon. 

Your brows furrowed at his otherwise empty hands. 

“Ya need to eat.” 

“But what about you?” 

Passing the can off to you, he dug inside the front pocket of his patch-worked pants. He pulled out a granola bar, barely half the width of his wrist, and your heart dropped. 

Hunger, pain, dehydration— he’d helped you through it all. And the combination of those feelings, with the heaviest weight of what you did to his home dragging your heart into the deepest pit of your stomach, brought a sudden tear to your eye. You looked down at the full can of vegetable soup sitting in your hands, the thin wisps of steam lifting off it, and that same tear rolled down your cheek. 

If he saw it, he didn’t say anything about it. The air was heavy but silent. When you finally looked up and met his soft stare, laced with something you hadn’t seen in his blue eyes before, you knew he had seen the single trail down your face. 

With a quick, nonchalant sniffle, you looked around the back room he’d led you into. The carpet was more comfortable than the title outside and considering that the floor was likely to be your bed for the night, you were thankful for the change in scenery. There were office supplies in the room; pens, paper, and a couple of filing cabinets. Placing the can down for a second, you reached over to grab a mug tossed on its side and used the end of your shirt to wipe away the dust. 

When it seemed clean enough, you poured half the soup inside.

Daryl’s eyes never moved off you— not once— and that same hesitancy you saw earlier was back. 

“Please,” your voice broke, gesturing the mug out closer to him. 

His heavy stare lingered a second longer, then he finally accepted. 

Daryl tilted the mug up, taking a large swig. It was only then that you allowed yourself to take a bite— no matter how hollow you had felt waiting for your next meal. 

His throat tightened around the warm liquid. It tasted like bile. You were eating the soup just fine, except for the stray tears marking your face, so whatever he tasted, whatever that feeling was, aching deep in his chest, was coming from him. 

Daryl had known anger his whole life. This wasn’t quite that. His chest tightened the same, muscles tensing, but there wasn’t a yell caught in his throat. No harsh words were about to slip off his tongue. And yet, if there was ever a time to be so, Daryl should have been angry now. Most people would— hell, even you had told him he’d had every right to hate you. 

See, maybe that was the problem. Daryl had dealt with more than his fair share of liars, before and after the world ended. He practically knew how to sniff them out, but you were clean of it. So damn sincere with every word you said. Even the way you looked at him, big eyes, timid and full of remorse, almost made him feel guilty for every mean look he gave you. 

Almost. Because then the red staining Hershel’s skin spotted his vision, and maybe he wasn’t angry at you, but he certainly couldn’t like you, either. Even if you had helped Carl and Rick. Even if you told him, with a pretty glimmer of hope in your eyes, that at least some of his people had made it out. 

After you scraped the bottom of that can and your face dried, you said, “You should sleep. I can keep watch.”

Daryl looked back to the wooden door he led you through, the only thing between you and the rest of that open, vulnerable store. 

“You’ve barely slept,” you added. 

He still ignored you. 

But then you sighed, and it was hard to miss the hint of guilt in your tone, “I get you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. What I did, what I was a part of… It— It was horrible. I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you why I did what I did, how Brian convinced us to—” 

Daryl closed his eyes. He already knew how manipulative and convincing the Governor could be. He’d seen people even as headstrong as Merle fall into line for him. A girl like you, compassionate and maybe a bit naive, would do the same, easily. 

Merle had always called him the softer brother. That was probably one of the few things he was right about.

“I know wha’ he told ya.”

Your eyes widened, shocked by his interruption and admission. 

“We dealt with him before. Called himself the Governor back then, ‘n he did the same thing. Found himself a group ‘n turned ‘em into soldiers. Lied about us, said we’d kill ‘em if they didn’t kill us first.”

You swallowed as a heavy feeling sunk into your stomach. “He said you— you killed his daughter. Took his eye and his town.” 

“His daughter was a walker,” Daryl huffed. “They came after us, ’n when we scared ‘em off, the Governor opened fire. He slaughtered his soldiers. All of ‘em.” 

You could only nod. 

“The survivors, the ones he didn’t kill, we took ‘em in. Jus’ like Rick said.” 

Your expression was blank as your gut twisted, afraid that any emotion you spared might come off as pitiful when really, all you felt was shame. An all-consuming dread amongst aching wishes that things hadn’t placed out the way they did, and a pang of sickening guilt that your hands had played a part in the reason why it happened— 

“He woulda done wha’ he did with or without your help,” Daryl mumbled, “ya didn’t do tha’, he did.” 

The swarming guilt didn’t clear, but it was certainly a surprise that Daryl was the one to slow your spiralling thoughts. And in the thick of your conscience, a wave of something else, something fervent and altruistic, filled the doubtful holes that shame left you. 

Your voice was soft and steady when you said, “Maybe it wasn’t just Rick and that woman.” 

Daryl looked at you, confused. 

“More of your people could’ve gotten out.” 

Daryl wasn’t expecting that. Just like you were shocked to find comfort in him, he was shocked to find bravery and confidence in you. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were those things. He knew you were, you went back for the damn poncho, for one— that was brave, reckless, but brave. But it was his family. He should’ve been the one to be firm on their survival. You should’ve held that pessimistic tone in your voice when you spoke about them— not him. And yet, here you were, fiddling a piece of string between your fingers, demeanour as gentle as you spoke, offering him a hint of hope to hold onto again. 

“And, if you’re gonna look for them, I want to help you.” 

Daryl’s eyes softened, but he hadn’t grabbed onto that hope, just yet. He wasn’t sure if he could. 

“But you need to sleep, first. Please.” 

That, he could do. Which was another surprise; you seemed to be full of those. He obliged and for the first time since you’d met Daryl, you held watch late into the night. 

————————————————————

-> part four

A/N: I love this part hehe. they finally start to bond and him HELPING WITH THE BANDAGE??? I am screaming (at my own story lol...)

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3