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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable. She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #lay x reader #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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onlydarylnormanfic · 4 years

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All of You - Part 9 (The Test)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Summary: The people of Alexandria are still uneasy with her presence, despite now being Daryl’s wife. So, the Reader is determined to go on a run with Rick, Michonne, Aaron, and Daryl. She is determined to show the group that she can be of good use and try and calm the tensions between them. She goes on the run with them, despite feeling very under the weather, and helps the group salvage food and supplies from a nearby farmhouse. When she returns to Alexandria, Daryl insists on her going to see the doctor to see what is wrong. She finds out why she has been feeling under the weather, much to both of their surprise…

-----

You awoke to the sounds of the birds chirping and the town rising. You could hear voices here and there outside of your open window. You tossed and turned a few times, stretching out and groaning with discomfort as you felt your sore muscles. And then finally, you reluctantly opened your eyes.

“Ughh…” you groaned, closing them again and pulling the covers back over your head, trying to fall back asleep despite the sun rays beaming directly at you through the open window.

You heard Daryl’s footsteps walking down the hallway towards the bedroom. You heard the doorknob rattle and the door creak open. And then you heard a chuckle from Daryl’s throat fill the bedroom.

You forced your eyes open and flung the blankets down off of your face and upper body. You looked over at him with cranky, tired eyes.

“What?” you asked, with a slight edge in your voice.

This made Daryl chuckle again as he walked over with a cup of water for you to drink and a bowl of something else in his other hand.

Daryl shook his head and smiled, setting the glass of water and bowl down on your nightstand beside you.

“Nothin…” Daryl said with a knowing smile as he sat down on the bed beside you.

“What?” you asked again, smiling up at him as you started to awake to the dream that was your reality now, him.

He shook his head, looking away, unable to shake his smile as he watched you fall in love all over again with him as you slowly awoke.

It happened every day, and every day he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

“Nothin’, it’s just…I never knew until we came here just how much you were *not* a morning person,” he said, chuckling again to himself.

You rolled your eyes and smiled sheepishly back up at him, pushing your arms to the bed and finally sitting up.

“Fine. I’m up. Happy?” you asked with another pout over at him.

He laughed softly to himself and nodded.

“Always,” he said reaching over and grabbing the bowl from the nightstand.

He grabbed one of the fresh strawberries inside of it and brought it to your lips.

“Here I brought ya some breakfast,” he said, gesturing to you to open your mouth.

Your lips smiled at him first, causing him to look up into your eyes again and admire the twinkle in them.

“You’re so sweet,” you said, looking over at him with thankful admiration for another few seconds before you focused on the strawberry and bit into it.

“Mmm…” you moaned happily to yourself as you closed your eyes and tasted the sweet fruit with a content smile on your face.

You swallowed it down and opened your eyes again to see Daryl smiling over at you with the sweetest smile on his lips as he watched you enjoy the fruit.

Life had been so damn good since you two had been married and settled down in Alexandria. Your dad had made good on his promise and let Alexandria survive on its own without his intrusive presence or demands.

You two had spent one full week in honeymoon heaven before starting your new life in this new community.

Since then, you had been trying to do as much as possible to prove your worth here. You couldn’t stand anyone thinking that you somehow thought you were above anyone or above the same hard work everyone else had to do to maintain this paradise in the middle of a deadly storm everywhere around you.

You grabbed a few more strawberries and popped them eagerly into your mouth, your stomach now alerting you to how famished you were.

You chopped away on them, grabbing more and popping them into your mouth. After you swallowed those you reached over, grabbed the water, and chugged it down. When you were finished you put the glass back on the nightstand and burrowed back down into your sleeping position. You looked up at him with a tired, but satisfied smile as your stomach and your eyes silently thanked him for the nourishment. But you couldn’t help but yawn, still feeling so tired.

Daryl looked over at you with concern for a moment. He brought his hand to your forehead, trying to feel if you had a fever. But you felt normal to him. So, he sighed with relief. He put the bowl down and walked around the bed, slipping into his side of the bed under the covers. He laid his arm out on the pillow above you.

You immediately lifted your head long enough to let him lay it beneath your head. You then laid back down and scooted into him, laying your arm over his chest as you settled into him.

He kissed your forehead a few times, smiling to himself as you turned into his body and cuddled into him. You two fit together like the perfect puzzle you were.

You smiled happily to yourself, closing your eyes as you burrowed into his neck, loving the scent of him.

Daryl wrapped both arms around you and held you close to him, watching as you closed your eyes and smiled, relaxing happily in his arms.

“You’ve been so tired lately,” Daryl said, kissing you on the forehead again and nuzzling into it as he closed his own eyes and held you tight.

“Maybe ya should stay here today and rest,” he said with sweet concern.

You shook your head, which laid on his chest, and nuzzled further into him, wrapping your arm around his body, underneath his arm.

“No, I can’t. I need to prove my worth here,” you said, opening your eyes and starring over at the open window opposite you with a wary look in your eyes.

As much as you did, you couldn’t help but feel like people were always judging your worth or your motives. You didn’t know if that was in your head or reality. All you knew was that’s how you felt most times you walked around here. The new world that you had desperately wanted for you and Daryl for as long as possible was turning out to be colder than you had imagined. Despite all of the anxiety you had for your own safety and insecurities you had pushed on, every single day as hard as you could. You did it for him, for your future together, and for the future of this safe haven.

“Ya don’t need to prove nothin’, Y/N. I’ll protect you,” Daryl said, hugging you as he said it.

He wanted nothing more than for you to finally be accepted her and put your mind at ease.

You smiled wider at his words, nuzzling into his neck and kissing it a few times before settling back into the crook.

“I know you can, baby. I just…I just need to prove myself as an equal here too. I have to,” you said, looking up at him with determined eyes.

Even though you didn’t often announce this worry out loud, he read it on your face every single time it crossed your mind. Which was more times than he had ever wanted when bringing you here. He wished like hell he could flash forward to a time when the people he knew and loved here would see how great you were. But all he could do was endure the first weeks of this new deal and hope that you and his family outside of you could somehow find common ground.

He looked back down into your eyes with worry, until he saw your resolve and nodded. He understood completely what that feeling was like and he admired how much you wanted to do this on your own merits. How could he say no?

So, he nodded, leaning down to kiss you softly. When he was done, he kissed your nose, then nuzzled it with his own, finally submitting to you.

“Alright. But, how about I let ya sleep a few more hours before we have to leave?” he asked, looking you over with loving concern again.

You looked up into his eyes and nodded, closing your eyes and then nuzzling into his body again, clinging onto him as if he was your only safety.

“Only if you stay here with me,” you said, starting to fall back asleep in his relaxing and loving arms.

Daryl smiled and settled his body further into yours until he was comfy, settling in to sleep next to you.

Once he did you smiled, and your eyes closed again. Daryl watched you fall quickly back asleep in his arms silently and contently. He dosed off soon after you did and you both fell into a peaceful slumber...

-----

You awoke before Daryl about an hour later. You had tossed and turned until your brain finally woke you up. You sat up and covered your mouth, feeling your stomach turning like crazy. You quickly ripped off the blanket over you and ran to the bathroom, where you hit your knees right in front of the toilet. You gripped it just seconds before you threw up the water and strawberries you had just eaten not too long ago.

“Ugh!” you groaned with disgust, wiping your mouth clean and quickly flushing the toilet.

That’s strange. You thought to yourself. You rarely, if ever, got sick. Maybe the strawberries had been bad you thought as you stood up and walked over to the sink. But your stomach did seem to be more sensitive the past week or so. You ran some cold water and splashed over your face, trying to cool it down.

“Y/N?” Daryl called out from the bedroom.

“Y/N, you alright?” he asked, looking over at the open door with confusion.

He had heard and felt you spring out of bed to the bathroom, waking him from his slumber.

“Yeah!” you shouted back, grabbing your toothbrush.

“I just wanted to make sure we weren’t going to be late!” you shouted back, shoving the toothbrush in your mouth and washing it clean.

Within seconds Daryl was at the doorway of the bathroom.

He leaned up against it, looking over at you with an in-awe smile as he took you in. Even doing such a basic thing you looked like the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

You leaned over and spit, rinsing your mouth, and then looked back over at him.

“What?” you asked self-consciously as you watched him take you in, hoping you looked better than you felt.

He walked over behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, looking at you in his arms, through the mirror in front of you two. He smiled to himself at the image of the two of you bonded together as if you were one. And from now on you were. He loved that. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you all to himself, forever.

“I was just thinkin’ about how happy ya make me,” Daryl replied with a smile over at you through the reflective mirror.

You smiled back at him, your heart melting at his words.

“Really?” you asked, nuzzling your head into his as you stared back at him through the mirror all feelings of discomfort leaving your body as suddenly as they had come on.

You wrapped your arms around his, that held you so securely, leaning back into his body with complete loving security as you fell back into him.

“So, you’re not sick of me yet?” you asked, looking up at him in the reflection with a happy, amused smile.

He leaned over and whispered into your ear.

“Not possible,” he said, focusing his eyes on yours this time as you two pivoted together.

“Yeah?” you asked as you turned around and into him.

You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, smiling wider as he wrapped his arms protectively around your waist and pulled your body into his.

He smiled back at you, leaning over and nudging his nose up into yours, his lips ghosting yours as he stared deep into your eyes.

“I’ve never loved you more,” he admitted with a smile of pure admiration.

He then closed his eyes and pushed his lips to yours.

You sighed happily as he kissed your lips gently a few times and then pushed his tongue into your mouth. You melted into his kiss as his tongue swirled passionately around yours, feeling instantly better at the feeling of him.

His hands immediately started to roam your back as he kissed you with more hunger.

You could feel how hard he was as he walked the two of you back into the counter behind you. As soon as your ass hit the edge of the counter Daryl brought his hand down in between your legs. He pushed his hand down into your panties and began to rub your pussy up and down.

“Ohhh, baby…” you whimpered at the feeling, pulling your lips away from his as your body fell back at his touch.

He grunted to himself, rubbing his leg up and down your inner thigh, trying to give his hard cock some relief. He was always so ready for you.

You groaned with confused happiness as you felt his hard cock running up and down your thigh, turning you on even more as his fingers played with you.

He pushed his lips to the side of your neck and began to harshly kiss it.

“Daryl…” you whimpered, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself at the feeling of him loving up on you.

He pulled his fingers out of you and ran his hands over and cupped your ass, under the fabric of your nightshirt, pulling your core into his.

“I need you, baby,” he whispered into your ear as he ran his hands eagerly up and down your ass with pure need.

“Do you think we have time?” you asked, trying to stay logical while he drove you fucking crazy for him.

“They can wait,” he said, leaning back over and pushing his tongue back in your mouth. He grabbed ahold of your tongue and began to swirl it around as fast as he could this time, causing you to moan happily into his kiss, completely submitting to him.

He knew that was all the convincing you needed. He brought his hands to the sides of your panties. He pulled his lips from yours long enough to step back and push them down to the ground.

He brought his hands to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them in front of you.

You stepped out of your panties and watched as he popped open his pants and pushed them to the ground. He stood back up and your eyes went wide with excitement as you watched his throbbing cock pop up to the middle of his bare stomach.

No matter how many times you two were together you were always amazed at how much he always wanted you and how good he always felt inside of you.

He walked over to you and pulled your shirt up.

You quickly raised your arms and allowed him to pull it up and off of you.

He then slammed his hand down on the counter beside you, silently ordering you to hop up.

You obeyed, quickly hopping up onto the counter. You spread your legs and brought your hands to the sides of his body. You stared down and watched as he grabbed his cock, stroking it a few times before bringing it to your pussy.

He ran it up and down your folds a few times and then swiftly pushed himself inside of you.

“Ah!” you cried out in pure pleasure as he shoved himself inside of you so quick.

His hands came quickly to the sides of your hips and ass. He gripped them tightly and began to thrust into you with full fervor.

You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his lower back as quickly as you could to endure the brunt of his excited cock. You looked into his eyes with pure happy disbelief as he started to fuck you the way only he could.

His jaw clenched at the pure look of loving desire in your eyes as he started to thrust harshly into you.

You whimpered and locked eyes with his, looking back at him with happy disbelief at the feeling.

He got lost at the look in your eyes, and how beautiful you were loving every second of him inside you. He stopped his cock’s motion just as suddenly as he had started it. He then wrapped his arms firmly around your body and pulled you up into his arms.

You quickly adjusted, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and resecuring your legs around his waist as he picked you up off the counter into his arms, still deep inside you.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a happy smile as he started to walk you out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom you shared.

“They can wait a few extra minutes…” Daryl said sweetly, walking you both back to your bed and laid you down onto it.

You two climbed up the bed in perfect unison until your head was back on your pillow and he was back on top of you, just the way you loved it.

He looked over into your eyes with a soft-hearted happy smile, pressing his lips sweetly to yours a few times before finishing his thought.

“…I wanna love my wife down right, just the way she deserves,” he finished with that sweet smile you loved so much.

You smiled back up at him, running your hand softly up and down his neck as you took him in. He was the most amazing man you had ever met and sometimes you still felt like meeting him had all been just a dream. But here he was every day reminding you that he was oh so very real and so very much in love with you. You felt the exact same way and you couldn’t believe that you had found such a love in the strangest of times.

“I love you, Daryl,” you said softly and with pure sincerity in your eyes, wishing you could freeze this moment in time forever.

His smile widened, and he nodded, nudging his nose up into yours and ghosting his lips with yours as he looked deep into your eyes.

“I love ya too, Y/N… Always,” he whispered, looking down at you and getting lost in all that you were and all that you had brought into his life since knowing you.

He couldn’t wait to spend every second of every day with you. He knew he would never get tired of having you by his side. You were his love, his rock, his everything. And he still couldn’t believe that he got to keep you for the rest of your lives.

You ran your hands down to the sides of his neck and placed them there, rocking your hips up and down his with a playful smile on your lips as you goaded him forward.

“Good. Now fuck me, baby,” you said with a slight whine in your voice.

He cocked his eyebrow at this as his eyes turned dark with desire for you again.

“With pleasure,” he said with another dark smile and then began to thrust his cock in and out of you again.

He started fast, hitting into you with pure driven lust-filled passion.

You moaned loudly, running your hands down to grip his shoulders as his cock pushed your body up and down with pure pleasurable force.

“Yeah? Ya like that?!” He grunted with pure excitement as he watched you loving his cock.

“Yes! Don’t stop!” you cried out loudly, rocking your hips up and down with more need as you felt your high coming.

He could tell you were close, so he sped up and increase his pressure on your core, just the way he knew you loved it.

“Ohh…Yes!! Don’t stop!” you moaned happily with every hit from his amazing cock.

He gave you everything he had, slamming harshly into you faster and harder until your hips locked up into his and you came so fast for him.

“Oh, God!? Yes, baby!!” you cried out as you hit your high, closing your eyes with a smile on your face as you enjoyed the amazing feeling buzzing through your body.

“Damn, girl!” Daryl grunted at the feeling of your pussy convulsing happily over his cock and the look on your face.

He sped up his cock, jackhammering into your hilt as fast as he could until he slammed into you and exploded deep inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl growled, clenching his jaw shut and glaring you down as he came so hard because of you.

He growled again, slamming his cock into you again, pushing your threshold, prolonging his high.

You smiled up at him, bringing your hands back to his hair to massage it as he collapsed on top of you, burying his head safely into the side of your neck. You nuzzled your head into his lovingly, running fingertips softly up and down his back.

He was panting away his high into your neck, causing shivers of bliss to breakout across your skin.

You two enjoyed the post-coital bliss for a few minutes in happy silence. After a few minutes of silent bliss, he began to kiss your neck repeatedly, silently thanking you for the amazing feeling you had just given him.

You lightly patted his back.

“I think we should get going, baby. I don’t want to be late for my first run,” you said reluctantly.

He nodded into your neck, kissing your neck a few more times before leaning back to look back into your beautiful eyes.

“Are ya sure I can’t convince ya to stay here?” he asked, knowing the answer, but needing to ask one more time anyway.

You shook your head.

“I am coming with whether you like it or not, Dixon,” you said with a resolved smile.

He nodded, reluctantly, knowing that that would be your answer.

He then pulled himself out of you and rolled over onto his back. He watched as you got up off of the bed and walked over to your dresser. He watched as you pulled out an outfit to wear. He smiled to himself, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly as he watched you put on your panties, jean shorts, and your favorite black tank top. You looked over at him as you grabbed a pair of socks, noticing the dumfounding look on his face, watching you as you got dressed.

“What’s that look?” you asked curiously, hopping up onto the dresser as you put on your socks, looking over at him curiously again when you were done.

“Nothin’, it’s just… If it’s possible you look more beautiful than you ever have this morning,” he said looking over at you with pure loving admiration in his eyes.

You smiled and rolled your eyes, hopping off of the dresser and putting your hands on your hips.

“Don’t think that sweet talk is going to make me change my mind, mister,” you said with a pointed smile over at him.

He laughed and nodded in agreement. He got up and walked over to you, putting his hand on the side of your face as he looked over at you.

“So, damn, stubborn,” he said with a smile.

You brought your hands to rest on his hips and leaned into him.

“We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” you said with another pointed smile, leaning up to kiss him.

You were swirling your tongues passionately around one another, getting lost again in one another when there was a rap on the front door. You pulled your lips from his.

“I told you!” you said, turning to walk towards the bedroom door to answer the front door.

You turned back around and looked his naked body up and down with admiration one more time before turning serious as your eyes came back to his.

“Get dressed, Romeo. We’ve got to get going,” you said, giving him another smile before turning and walking out of the door.

You walked down the hallway to the front door. You opened it to find Michonne standing on the other side of it.

She nodded a stern hello to you. She, along with most of Daryl’s family still hadn’t warmed up to you much since you had moved here. You guess you couldn’t blame them after what your father had done to them. But still, you were hopeful that one day they would accept you as one of their own. At least for Daryl’s sake.

“You ready?” Michonne asked, pure business on her face.

“Yeah, just give us a minute. We’ll meet you at the gate shortly,” you said with an apologetic smile.

If Michonne noticed, she didn’t let on that she did. She just nodded militantly and turned to walk towards the gate, her sword secured tightly on her back.

You grimaced and shut the door.

You turned back around to see Daryl now fully dressed, walking toward you with an awe-filled smile still on his face after your wonderful morning together.

You forced a small smile, trying to deny how nervous you were about today.

Daryl noticed the change in your demeanor and the look on his face turned to concern. He walked up to you and brought his hands up to cup your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with worry on his face.

You shook your head.

“It’s nothing…It’s just I don’t think they’ll ever accept me, Daryl,” you said looking up at him sadly.

He shook his head and then planted a few loving kisses on your lips before looking back into your eyes with resolve.

“Hey, don’t say that. They will. They just need time,” he said, trying to reassure you.

You looked away and shrugged, your confidence in that ever happening was obviously not very high.

“Y/N, they will come around. I know it. But right now? I need you to be focused on the job at hand. Because there is no way I’m allowing you out there if you aren’t focused on staying safe,” he said, dipping down and forcing your eyes back to his.

You smiled and nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath before answering him.

“You’re right. Alright, I’ll get my boots on,” you said.

Daryl nodded in agreement, breathing a sigh of relief. It was bad enough you insisted on coming out there where there was danger around every corner. He couldn’t have you distracted.

You two put your boots on in silence.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow, slinging it over his back, securing the strap around his chest. Daryl handed you your belt, which had two knife holsters on it. You quickly slipped the belt around your belt loops, buckling it tightly. He then handed you two knives that he had welded for you. You grabbed them and holstered them securely on both your sides.

Daryl brought his hand to your chin, grabbing it securely, and then looked seriously into your eyes.

“You stay by my side at all times, got it?” he asked, worry flashing across his face as he thought about all that could happen to you, the most precious thing he had ever cared about.

You nodded, smiling up at him with reassurance.

“I promise,” you said, knowing how worried he really was to have you out there.

You? You couldn’t wait to step foot outside and finally be free from any kind of walls. But you also didn’t want to die either. So, you would do as Daryl said. Even if you usually would fight him on it. You didn’t want to mess up anything. You wanted to be with this man, here at his home, for as long as you could. Hopefully, forever. So, you agreed to his terms with sincerity.

Daryl searched your face with worry on his, trying to find any ounce of defiance in his order in yours. When he was sure there was none and that you had fully agreed he took a deep breath and nodded. He dropped his hands from your face and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly in his.

He nudged his head towards the door.

“Come on,” he said and then pulled you away with him out of the house.

You shut the door behind you and then walked hand in hand with Daryl down the steps of your house and the streets of Alexandria.

You looked around nervously as you locked eyes with people as you passed. Most gave you a look of unease, some even hid their children behind them protectively as you walked past them.

Daryl noticed, his heart pinging with sadness at the look of uneasy sadness on your face as you tried your hardest not to feel it fully.

He nudged your shoulder with his.

“Hey,” he said, waiting for your eyes to come back to his at his behest.

“You here with me?” he asked with concern.

You smiled over at him, getting lost in his eyes as you always did, and nodded. You leaned your head onto his shoulder and squeezed his hand tightly as you forced your eyes forward towards the gate.

“Always,” you said, smiling genuinely as you remembered the love you had for this amazing man and why you chose to endure this.

You reminded yourself that nothing and no one would ever get in the way of you two being together.

He smiled happily to himself, kissing the top of your head sweetly before forcing his own eyes ahead to the gate and to the group you were going out with today.

You and Daryl walked up to Michonne, Rick, and Aaron, hand in hand. You straightened out as you grew closer to the group, noticing their wary eyes as they took the image of you two together in.

Rick was the first one to walk towards you two, looking over at Daryl and nodding seriously over at him.

“You ready?” Rick asked him,

Daryl nodded, squeezing your hand with silent support for you.

“Yeah, *we’re* ready,” Daryl replied, emphasizing the fact that you were also here to help.

Rick nodded again, looking over at you with a hard apology in his eyes and demeanor.

“Y/N,” he said politely and then turned and walked back towards Michonne and Aaron.

You looked over at Daryl with unsure eyes again, your nerves getting the better of you.

He leaned over, kissed your forehead, and then cupped the side of your cheek with his free hand before speaking to you again.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Just stay with me,” he said with a comforting smile.

You smiled back, relaxing a little at just how much you loved this man.

“Okay,” you said, nodding in agreement back to him.

He nodded back and then you both gave your attention back to the others. Rick and Daryl nodded to one another and then Rick began to tell you all what the plan was for today’s run.

“Alright, today’s mission is like any other, to get as much supplies as we can to bring back for our people. Michonne and I found an old-abandoned farm not too far from here. It is fenced in and as far as we can tell is free from walkers. We have spotted a big garden with plenty of food on the vines. It looks like this place has been well-tended to up until now. Not sure what happened to the people living there, but we are going to use their absence to our advantage. Aaron, Michonne, and I will take the truck while Daryl and Y/N, follow behind us,” Rick stated, looking over at you warily for a moment and then over to Daryl.

“Daryl your job is to make sure you give us a heads up if you see anyone coming, dead or alive,” Rick ordered.

Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Keep your walkies on at all times. But only use them if you have to. We don’t know who’s out there listening,” Rick instructed everyone.

He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out a walkie, bringing it over and handing it to you.

You took it and secured it behind you, clipping it to your jean shorts.

Rick then looked around at everyone with his ever serious eyes and tone.

“Let’s get out there and start re-building what has been taken from us,” Rick said, clenching his jaw and resisting the urge to glance back over at you with his comment.

That didn’t stop Michonne though, she looked straight into your eyes with a wary harsh glare.

You looked away, trying to ignore her glare and focus on the mission at hand. Which would hopefully begin to earn you some trust with these people.

“Alright, let’s head out,” Rick said, twirling his finger around in the air as he walked over to the driver’s side door.

He opened it and hopped inside. Aaron went to the other side and hopped in. Michonne climbed up onto the back of the truck bed, sitting and leaning against the back of the truck’s cab. She slammed her hand on the window above her, signaling to Rick that she was secure and ready to go.

“Come on,” Daryl said and pulled you over to his bike.

He dropped your hand and slung his leg over, sitting easily on the big piece of metal.

You followed him and slung your leg over, settling in behind him. You put your hands on his sides to secure yourself to him and the bike.

He looked back at you silently asking you if you were ready. You nodded and looked forward towards the gate with resolve.

Daryl kicked up his kickstand and pushed his foot harshly down onto the pedal below, igniting the engine with a loud roar.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his body and leaned yours into his with slight fear. You had never ridden his bike with him before. So, this would be another new experience for the two of you.

Daryl felt your tight grip on him and looked back at you with a smirk.

“Hold on, darlin’,” he said, his smirk widening at the sight of you, of all people, being so nervous.

“Shut up and drive, Dixon,” you said with a playful smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

Daryl smiled sweetly back at you as your spitfire nature returned to your being.

“Yes, ma’am,” Daryl said with another sweet smile over at you before turning his eyes and attention back to the road ahead.

The bike jolted ahead, and you watched as you both followed the truck to the gate.

The gate opened and away you all went. You held onto Daryl tightly as you took off together after the truck. You looked back and watched as the people quickly closed and locked the gate behind you, but not before you saw the look of anger on Sasha and Rosita’s faces as they did so.

You forced your mind and attention forward to the task at hand, ignoring the sudden urge to throw up again at the look on their faces. You took a few deep breaths trying to calm your upset stomach as you tried to focus on the mission at hand.

Daryl noticed your wavering body behind him, your grip loosening for a moment before you gripped him even tighter than before.

He looked back at you with concern.

“Ya alright?” he asked with a look of worry on his face.

You gulped back the sensation to puke because of your nerves and nodded over at him with a look of resolve on your face.

“Yeah. I’m okay, let’s just get this over with,” you said, your voice breaking at the end of your sentence, now wishing you hadn’t agreed to come out with him, but knowing you needed to prove your worth to the people your dad had wronged so deeply.

He looked you over with concern again and then nodded, turning his head and mind back toward the mission, knowing how important this was to you and the group.

You held on tightly to him as you all drove forward on the dirt road. You looked around and noticed a few walkers staggering slowly toward the sound of your vehicles far off into the distance. Your heart started to race as you watched them stretch out their arms following you. You shivered a little at the sight. You hugged Daryl, laying your head on his back and closing your eyes, trying to calm your nausea at the sight of the monsters.

You kept your eyes closed, hugging him tightly as the bike sped along, turning here and there until you felt it come to a stop.

Daryl kicked the kickstand down and the bike leaned to the side as it settled into its parked position.

You opened your eyes and noticed a big white farmhouse to the right of you. It was at least two stories with an attic. It was fenced in by a beautiful wooden fence that wrapped all the way around the property. There was a big red barn behind the house with a huge overgrown garden. From here you could see ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, and what looked like squash growing under the massive vines.

You smiled at the sight of what looked like a glimpse of the old world. You imagined children running around playing in the yard while their parents watched them from their rocking chairs that now were empty on the front porch.

“We’re here,” Daryl said, looking back towards you, noticing you were still hugging him so tightly.

You rested your chin on his shoulder and looked over at him with the same happy smile.

“It’s beautiful here,” you said to him, a glimmer of hope filling your eyes at your vision of the future.

Daryl smiled softly back at you, knowing that look in your eyes by now.

“Yeah. It is,” he said softly, getting lost in your eyes for a moment until he heard the sound of the truck doors slamming shut.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get this done so I can get you back home,” he said with a nod of his head.

You sighed, slumping a little but nodded in agreement.

You let unwrapped your arms around him, bringing your hands up to his shoulders to brace on them as you swung off of the bike. Once your feet hit the gravel, your head started to spin a little, causing you to brace your hand on the side of his arm for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, looking you over with concern again.

He had never seen you so off-kilter as you had been the past few days. He was starting to worry there was something wrong with you. And that worried him more than anything else in the world.

You shook your head, closing your eyes as your dizziness slowly subsided, bringing your hands to your hips as you steadied yourself.

“Nothing. I’m okay. I must just have some vertigo from the bike,” you said, trying to shake the dizziness from your being.

Rick, Michonne, and Aaron walked over to you two as Daryl swung his leg quickly over his bike and came to your side.

“You two ready?” Rick asked, looking over at the state of you, and then looked over at Daryl with confusion in his eyes.

You nodded, forcing your eyes to Rick’s.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” you said with hard resolve in your eyes.

You looked back at Daryl with a reassuring yet weak smile.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, looking you over with uncertainty. If it was up to him, he would have taken you home this instant to get you checked out by the Doc. But this was important to you. So, he nodded back to you and then forced his eyes back over to Rick’s.

“Yeah,” Daryl concurred, nodding over to Rick.

Rick looked you over again, noticing how sickly you looked, and then looked over at Aaron.

“Why don’t you two take the garden. Aaron, drive the truck up to it and you two can start filling the buckets with any vegetables you can find,” Rick instructed.

Aaron nodded, looking over at you with wary but kind eyes.

You looked over at Aaron and then back at Daryl with unease. Daryl noticed and leaned over to kiss your cheek and then whisper into your ear.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Aaron’s good people. I trust him with you,” he whispered, looking over at you with another reassuring smile.

You smiled back and nodded, taking a few deep breaths of courage before looking back at Rick for further instructions.

“Michonne, Daryl, you’re with me. We’re going to case the house and if it is empty, we will scavenge everything useful we can find. Grab the bags from the back of the truck and let’s get going,” Rick ordered with another hard nod at Daryl and Michonne.

They both nodded back. Michonne went to grab a couple of big duffel bags from the back of the truck.

Daryl looked over at you unsurely one more time before walking in front of you, turning his back on the others. He looked you over as he cupped your face, softly caressing the sides of them with his thumbs as he leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly.

When he was done, he leaned back, his hands still securely hold onto your face, and spoke.

“Ya need anything, just call,” he said with sweet concern in his eyes.

You nodded, bringing your hand down to pat the top of his walkie on his hip as you answered.

“I will. I promise,” you said, leaning up to give him one last sweet kiss on his lips before dropping back to your feet.

“Be safe,” you said, your turn to think about all the things that could go wrong here.

“I’m comin’ back to ya, always. I promise ya that,” he said with nothing but pure love and admiration in his eyes as he looked you over.

Even after all this time, you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

He nodded slowly, dropping his hands reluctantly from you after one more sweet kiss on your forehead.

You two nodded your silent goodbyes to one another and then Daryl turned back towards the group.

Daryl looked over at Aaron silently telling him to take care of you.

Aaron picked up on it right away and nodded back to him, showing Daryl that he would do whatever he could to make sure he kept you safe.

Once Daryl was convinced, he took one more loving look at you and then walked to the truck, grabbing two more duffel bags, and followed Michonne away towards the house. Rick nodded a polite goodbye to you and Aaron before grabbing two bags himself and following the other two.

You watched them all easily hop the fence and walk towards the farmhouse. Daryl looked back at you several times before forcing his focus forward.

You watched him walk away from you with nothing but a sad longing in your eyes. Every step away from you made your heart ache more.

“Well, I guess we should get started. Rick really does run a tight ship,” Aaron said, looking over at you with a reassuring smile.

You looked back over at him and noticed his pleasant demeanor toward you.

You offered a small smile back and nodded in agreement.

“Why don’t I open the gate. You can drive through, I’ll close it, and we can head over to the garden,” he suggested.

“Sure. Sounds good,” you agreed.

You started to walk over to the driver’s side door of the truck when Aaron placed his hand gently on your shoulder. This caused you to stop and look over at him curiously at his touch.

Aaron smiled over at you again.

“For what it’s worth? I feel the same way every time I have to leave Eric behind,” he said with a nod of his head and dropped his hand.

“Thanks,” you said offering him a sweeter smile this time at his olive branch towards you.

He nodded again and began to walk towards the gate of the fence just a few yards away.

You followed suit and walked over to the driver’s side door. You opened it and climbed inside, shutting it and starting the ignition. As you did so, you looked out your window, scanning the area for any signs of danger. You saw none. Instead, all you heard was the peaceful whipping of the wind and the cawing of birds in the air above you.

You started the engine and put the truck into drive, looking over and watching as Aaron opened the gate.

He ushered you and the truck over with his hands.

You stepped onto the gas pedal and slowly drove the truck over and into the property. You pressed your foot onto the brake pedal, holding it there as you watched Aaron shutting the gate in your side mirror. After he was done, he walked over to the passenger side door and swung it open. He climbed easily up into the cab and sat down, shutting the door and then nodding over at you.

“Alright, let’s get us some food,” he said with an easy smile, looking happily over at the overly plentiful garden ahead of you.

You smiled over at his easy nature and nodded in agreement, your stomach growling at the thought of food. You pressed your foot to the gas pedal and drove the truck right up alongside the overgrown garden.

You two looked over at it with happy smiles on your faces.

“Wow! Look at all that!” you said with enthusiasm.

Aaron nodded in agreement.

“Looks like we will eat well tonight. Let’s start gathering,” Aaron said, opening the door and quickly climbing down to grab two of the buckets from the back and then walked over to the garden.

You did the same, climbing down from the truck, grabbing two buckets of your own, and following him into the generous garden. You were careful not to step on the vines and the plants as you made your way inside of it, behind Aaron.

You stopped at the tomatoes, putting your buckets down, careful to move the plants aside to do so. You began to pick them, placing them carefully inside the bucket. You looked over with worry every so often at the house that Daryl had disappeared into with Rick and Michonne.

Aaron went to work picking the cucumbers, looking over at you curiously every so often. He noticed your obvious worry and love for Daryl, shaking his head and smiling to himself as he bent down to pick a few more.

“You know…Not to brag. But I am an excellent judge of character…” Aaron started locking eyes with yours as you two worked together.

“…And I think people are wrong about you,” he finished with a smile over at you.

You looked over at him, surprised by his words, but smiled graciously back over at him before responding.

“Really?” you asked with a surprised smile over at him as you continued working together.

Aaron smiled again and nodded.

“Really,” he said, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

You smiled over at him one more time before doing the same. You two picked veggies together in comfortable silence, filling up bucket after bucket under the hot Georgia sun. You started to feel faint again after a while and stood up, putting a hand on your forehead. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, feeling nausea hit you again.

Aaron noticed and immediately came to your side.

He looked you over with concern. He leaned down and grabbed a ripe tomato and handed it to you.

“Here. Eat somethin’,” Aaron said as he offered you the tomato.

You opened your eyes and nodded, gratefully taking the tomato and biting into it with exhausted hunger.

“Thanks,” you said before taking another famished bite.

“Here, why don’t you sit down,” Aaron said, taking your arm timidly and guiding you to a nearby gardening chair.

You obliged, your head spinning again.

Aaron helped you sit down and then walked over to the back of the truck. He pulled out a bottle of water and brought it quickly back over to you.

“Here, take a drink,” Aaron said, kneeling down and handing it to you.

You took it, quickly opening the top of the bottle and guzzling it down quickly.

You pulled the bottle from your lips and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, taking in a few deep breaths of relief as your body thanked you for the nourishment. You smiled to yourself at the sense of satisfaction a moment before remembering you weren’t alone. You looked up at Aaron with a grateful nod as you handed him back the nearly empty bottle back.

He held his palm out at you.

“No, no. It looks like you need it more than I do,” Aaron said looking you over with concern again.

“Have you been feeling sick?” Aaron asked as he took in your state.

You shrugged, gulping down the last of the bottle before resting your arms on your thighs and responding to him.

“I’m alright. I’ve just been a little dizzy and sick to my stomach lately,” you admitted to him, looking longingly over at the house where Daryl was busy at work, wishing he was here to comfort you.

Aaron followed your lovesick gaze and smiled to himself before looking over at you again.

“Well, I don’t want to tell you what to do by any means. But I’d definitely pay a visit to the Doc when we get back,” he said.

You looked over at him quizzically.

“Why? I don’t have a fever or anything. Maybe just some vertigo,” you said, looking up at him with question.

Aaron laughed a little to himself again and then looked over at you.

“There might be more than just a fever you should know about,” he said looking pointedly at you before walking back over to continue his task.

You looked back at the house, wishing you would see Daryl emerge already, completely confused at what Aaron meant.

You felt better after having something to eat and the water. After another few moments of rest, you walked back over and helped him finish salvaging the garden.

After a while longer, you looked up at the house and noticed the trio finally exiting the house, Daryl following Rick and Michonne out with what looked like full duffel bags in each of their hands.

You breathed a sigh of relief, standing up and smiling happily to yourself at the sight of him walking back to you.

He walked down the steps with the two bags in his hands and looked over at you from the distance between you two.

You quickly put the last few squash on the vines below your feet into the bucket beside you and walked over to him.

You ignored Rick and Michonne’s eyes on you completely as you two walked into the middle of the yard, finally reunited with one another. You walked swiftly into him and hugged him wholeheartedly, loving the feeling of your bodies and souls being reunited after what had seemed like forever to you.

He dropped his bags just in time, and wrapped his big, beautiful arms around you, lifting you up into him for a great big bear hug.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he did so, hugging him tightly as you kissed his neck and then rested your head on the side of his shoulder. You held onto him tightly, tighter than you ever had as you smiled to yourself at the feeling of being back in his arms.

He dropped you back to your feet and you looked up at him like he had been gone forever.

“I was only gone a little while,” he said with a small smile at the look of pure love in your eyes for his return to you.

“I know. I just missed you,” you said with a sweet smile, your nerves finally calming at the sight of him safe and okay.

He smiled sweetly over at your relief to have him back with you. He brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, silently telling you how much he loved you too with only his eyes, and then kissed your forehead.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Daryl said with another sweet smile.

You nodded, trying to fight your nerves as you turned around to face the group again.

Daryl picked up the bags and followed you over to the truck parked near the garden. You looked over at Aaron and smiled gratefully over at him for being so kind to you today.

He smiled and nodded a silent your welcome before loading up the last two buckets that were filled with veggies from the garden.

Daryl, Rick, and Michonne all dropped their filled bags into the back of the truck. Rick looked over the harvested food and the filled bags with a hopeful smile on his face, the first time in a long time he had been able to do that.

He looked over at you for a second. He had to admit that all of this was theirs to keep because of you and what you had done for them and their community. He nodded a silent thank you to you, much to your surprise.

Daryl walked over and grabbed your hand holding it in his as he stood there protectively by your side.

Rick noticed this and nodded over at Daryl with a silent apology.

Daryl nodded back.

You watched as the two men made their apologies in complete silence, smiling to yourself as you watched Daryl’s shoulders relax a bit afterward.

“Alright, let’s get this back to Alexandria and start going through what we’ve found today. Good job, everyone,” Rick said, looking over at you with one last polite nod before he turned and walked to the driver’s side of the truck.

Michonne climbed into the back of the truck reclaiming her position at the back of the cab. Aaron was about to get into the truck when he looked over at you and Daryl.

“Daryl, you have a second?” Aaron asked him.

Daryl looked over at him curiously and nodded.

Daryl’s hand dropped away from yours and you watched Aaron and Daryl walk a few feet away from everyone. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they both looked over at you with concern in their eyes as they began to walk back over to the group. Daryl patted Aaron on the shoulder and then walked back over to you.

“Come on,” Daryl said, grabbing your hand and walking you back over to his bike.

“What was that about?” you asked as you walked away with him.

He looked you over with concern again before bringing his worried eyes back to yours.

“Aaron said we should get you to the Doc when we get back. Said he was worried ya might have somethin’,” he said.

You nodded in complete agreement with him for once. You held your hand to your stomach as another wave of nausea hit you.

“Yeah. I have been feeling pretty sick lately. Maybe that’s a good idea,” you said, taking a few deep breaths as you tried to calm your stomach.

“Ya alright to ride back with me?” he asked, noticing you were sick to your stomach again.

You nodded.

“Yeah, let’s just get home,” you said with a weak smile.

He nodded, looking over at you with concern again before forcing his eyes and feet forward. He walked you both back to his bike and slung himself over, sitting down on the seat. He moved forward to allow room for you and nudged his head back to you.

“Get one,” he instructed as he kicked up the kickstand and revved the engine to life.

You quickly got on behind him, wrapping your arms securely behind him and resting your head on his back. You closed your eyes as the bike jolted forward. You tried to focus on the cool air that blew across your face as you two rode back to Alexandria, following behind Rick and the truck.

When you got back to Alexandria, you opened your eyes, watching Daryl idle watching impatiently for the gate to open. Once it did, you all drove through. You heard the gate clink shut from behind you. Daryl drove you right up to the Doc’s house, parking the bike on the side of the road.

You sighed in relief at the feeling of the bike coming to a halt. Daryl put out the kickstand. You brought your hands back to his shoulders and braced on them as you weakly got down off the bike. You stood there in a haze for a moment before your hand came to your mouth and you gagged. You quickly walked over to some nearby bushes and threw up the water and tomato you had eaten.

“Ick…” you muttered to yourself as you wiped your mouth, your eyes watering with sick pain in your eyes.

Daryl was beside you in an instant, rubbing your back softly as you purged your system.

You looked over at him with an embarrassed smile.

“Well, that’s a new milestone for us. I’m sorry,” you said with another weak smile as you clutched your stomach.

“Don’t be. Let’s just get you in there and see how the Doc can help,” he said with nothing but sympathy for you in his eyes.

He didn’t like seeing you in pain or discomfort.

You nodded, letting him take your hand and walk you both to the front door. Daryl knocked loudly on the front door, pounding on it until it opened.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” the Doc said as he swung the door open, looking at Daryl with slight annoyance.

He then looked over at you and noticed the state of you. Your face was clammy, and you looked like you were about to fall over.

“Come in. Come in,” he said stepping aside and ushering you both inside.

Daryl helped guide you inside of the house, following the Doc as he walked you both to the backroom that was frequently used for examinations.

“She’s been feelin’ real sick lately, Doc. You’ve got to look her over,” Daryl said looking you over with worry again.

You noticed this and smiled up at him reassuringly.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Daryl. It’s probably just a stomach bug,” you said, squeezing his hand tighter.

Daryl licked his lips and nodded repeatedly, trying to believe that it was something minor. But in this world, he was too scared of losing you not to go to the extremes inside his head.

“Daryl, why don’t you wait outside while I look her over,” the Doc said, putting his black stethoscope around his neck.

“Go ahead, Daryl. I’m okay,” you said, noticing the look of defiance in his eyes.

He looked you over to make sure you meant your words. When he was sure you did, he nodded again and kissed your cheek.

“I’ll be right outside those doors,” he said, cupping your face as he stared deeply into your eyes.

You nodded, smiling sweetly back at him.

“Go,” you said softly, squeezing his hand one more time before dropping it from his.

He nodded, looking over at you warily one more time before he dropped his hands from you and turned to walk out the door. Before he left, he looked back at you again and said, “I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, smiling happily back at him before you turned your attention to the Doc. You heard Daryl close the door as you smiled politely over at the Doc.

“Why don’t you come sit down and I’ll take a look,” the Doc said, gesturing with his hand to sit on the cot set up in the middle of the room.

You obeyed and sat on the cot with your hands in your lap.

“So, how have you been feeling lately,” he asked, taking a look into each of your eyes before moving his hands down to your neck, checking your lymph nodes.

“I guess I have been more tired than usual, and I’ve been really sick to my stomach lately,” you said.

“Mhm,” the Doc said, putting the stethoscope earbuds into his ears, bringing the flat plate over to your chest.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said, placing the plate on your chest.

You took a few slow deep breaths as he placed the plate around your chest, listening intently.

After a few more deep breaths, he dropped the plate and took the earbuds out of his ears, hanging it back around his neck. He brought his hands to your stomach, pressing on it near your side.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, checking the area where your appendix was located.

“No,” you answered.

“Have you been having any aches and pains lately?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“I mean aside from the usual wear and tear I guess my body has seemed more tender than usual,” you said.

“Where has it been tender?” he asked you.

You looked up at him embarrassed as you gestured to your breasts.

He nodded again, walking over to a big cabinet, opening the doors, and grabbing something inside of it.

“Any motion sickness?” he asked, holding something in his hand as he walked back over to you.

“Yes, definitely,” you said, nodding as you peered curiously over at whatever was in his hand.

“Here, I think you should take this test,” he said and handed you a box.

You took it from him and looked over at it curiously.

It was a pregnancy test.

You looked up at him in pure shock.

He laughed a little at your reaction.

“I don’t see any symptoms of inflamed lymph nodes or an inflamed appendix. The symptoms you are describing can also be the symptoms of a woman’s first trimester,” he said, matter-of-factly.

You stared down at the box in your hand and nodded, still in shock at this.

“When was the last time you had your period?” he asked.

You searched your mind.

“I guess it has been quite a while,” you admitted, just now realizing how late you were.

“You can use the bathroom back there if you would like,” the Doc said, gesturing to a door behind you.

You looked over at the closed door where Daryl had exited, wondering if you should tell him. You decided to wait until you yourself knew for sure. You slowly got up and walked over to the bathroom door in a haze.

You walked inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You unbuttoned your jean shorts and pulled them and your panties down as you sat down on the toilet. You opened the box, taking the test stick out from the packaging. You read the instructions carefully, one line meant no, and two lines meant yes.

You brought the stick down, shifting awkwardly as you tried to line it up, and then began peeing. You took the stick out after you had wettened it and set it on the edge of the sink next to you. You wiped and got up fastening your shorts and walking over to the sink. You stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands clean.

Were you really ready to be a mother? You wondered. You looked up at the clock on the wall, marking the time. The box said you had to wait five minutes. You walked over at sat down on the edge of the tub to wait, staring at your hands as your mind raced with so many thoughts and questions.

You tried to stay calm, reminding yourself that it could be negative. Then your thoughts turned to Daryl. You smiled to yourself at the thought of him holding your child making them laugh or smile. You thought about how much you had wanted a family with him. You just didn’t know it would happen so soon. Although would you really be that surprised with how active you two had been since day one?

You stared up at the clock every so often, lost in your confused thoughts until it was time to look.

The clock ticked to the five-minute mark. You ran your hands up and down your thighs a few times before you took a deep breath and got up. You walked over to the sink and picked up the stick.

It was Positive.

Your stomach did a flip at the sight of the positive result. You felt like you were in a dream as you set it back down on the sink and walked back out into the Doc’s exam room.

From the look of shock on your face, the Doc figured out the answer.

You didn’t even look at him as you slowly walked over to the door and opened it.

Daryl quickly rose to his feet, looking you over with concern. His hands came to your body, bringing them back to your face to cup it.

You had the strangest shocked look on your face, which immediately made him think something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Is everything alright?” he asked as he checked you over with anxious panic now.

You slowly nodded, bringing your in-shock eyes back to his.

“I’m-I’m pregnant,” you said, looking over at him in pure shock as you pushed out the words.

Daryl’s hands dropped from your face and he stepped back a bit, looking over at you with his own pure shock in his eyes.

“What?” he asked, feeling like he had misheard you.

“I’m pregnant,” you said with more conviction this time.

Daryl stared over at you in disbelief for a few seconds before walking into you and wrapping you up into his arms, giving you a big hug.

You smiled and laughed a little at the sheer force of his happy hug. After what seemed like a five-minute hug, he finally brought his hands to your shoulders, pulling you two apart just enough to be able to see your face again.

He had the happiest smile on his face that you had ever seen. You even thought you saw a few tears starting but he quickly pushed them away.

The Doc came over with a happy smile.

“Congratulations you two, you’re going to be parents,” he said, reaching his hand out to shake Daryl’s.

Daryl took it shaking it firmly as he brought his attention to the Doc.

“Is she gonna be okay? How far along is she? What do I need to do for her?” Daryl asked, suddenly having a million questions running through his mind.

The Doc chuckled a little before responding.

“She’s going to be just fine, Daryl. We’ll set up a weekly appointment for her to make sure we catch anything that could be problematic. In the meantime, she will need lots of rest. So, I would suggest no more runs for her unless it is absolutely necessary. Times have obviously changed. The body can fall prey easier to pregnancy without technology to help guide us. So, the less strain she puts on her body the better,” the Doc said to Daryl.

Daryl nodded, already making a list in his mind of all of the things you were no longer going to be doing.

“As for how far along, if I had to guess I would say you are around 5 or 6 weeks pregnant,” he said to you.

You looked down at your stomach, placing your hand on it. It was mind-boggling to you that you had been with this child for so long already and didn’t know it.

“Get plenty of rest and I’d suggest more soup-based meals until your morning sickness subsides. Your body will tell you what it needs with your cravings and we will do the best we can to accommodate that. I’ll also put prenatal vitamins on the next run list for you,” the Doctor said to you both.

“Just tell me where to look and I’ll get them,” Daryl said to the Doc.

The Doc nodded back to him.

“Very good, I’ll plot you out a map of places that could have them and get it to you by the morning,” he replied.

He then looked over at you two with another smile.

“I’ll let you two settle into the news. But if you have any more questions you know where to find me,” he said, nodding politely again before walking back into the exam room and closing the door behind him.

Daryl looked back at you.

You both stared at each other in shocked silence for a minute before you spoke, still holding your hand protectively over your stomach.

“Are you…okay with this?” you asked with slight worry on your face that he might not be.

He cupped the side of your face and looked lovingly back into your eyes.

“Are ya kidding me, Y/N? I can’t wait to meet our little creation,” he said with a sappy smile on his lips.

You smiled back up and him and nodded, imagining the spitfire that you two probably created.

“Ya just keep surprisin’ me, Y/N…” he said, tenderly caressing your cheek with his thumb as he looked at you in complete awe.

“I love you, Y/N. And I’m gonna love this kid just as much,” he said, with a happy dumbstruck smile.

You smiled sweetly back over at him. The look of pure love in his eyes squashed any doubt you had in your mind about this being a mistake. He was going to be a great dad.

“I love you, too, Daryl,” you said in awe of him, even more so now than ever before.

Whatever came next, you knew he would take care of you and this child so damn well…

—–

Tagged: @katieswinforddiaries @rawr-bitches@jodiereedus22@whovianayesha @hearydaysquite @kal-kal28 @team-barry@simpledyiing@sesshomaru @khyharah @dashesoflipstick @tiquismiquis@dunne31@bryai003 @ketxo @justaclumsybrunette @clinicalkayla@teamfreewiffy@kawaiirepublic @letusunalivethem @nicolesyneah25 @i-sing-the-body-elektra @deeindarkwonderland @reoccuringfate @imagine-all-the-imagines@megandrawsspace @professsionalsinner @kbnix23@maddybeck01@kingdixonreedus @isayweallgetdrunk@wadeyourebarelyalive@anna1012131@otakuforlife12@youandyourstupidrope @reedus87 @ass-kicker-daryl@benerchic @derpypenguin @bigbaldheadfangirl @daryldixon-addicted@shinydixon @blondielovesr5-blog @stilinskibarnes @alyisdead@addiction-survivor25 @isayweallgetdrunk @cleohalestilinski@reedusteinrambles @betty-rage527 @ladybuglolly @super-who-nerd@alaska00young@fiftypercentmoreintoyou @mwesterfeld1985@sapphire1727 @the-moose-of-baskerville @purplejellybean @katiescrotch@coffeebooksandfandom@captainhopelessromantik-808 @kjs1939 @colagirl5@uniquewerewolfsuit@princessxpunk @toxic-ink @deepsouth @dixon-daryl@azanoni@lucilepiewhiskey @forsakensiren @kclark14love@girlyfandomfighter13@sweet-things-4-life @dragongirl420 @twd-daryl@cbarter @the-writingdead@sarahdearr @redm81 @alyisdead @serfyan18@morphinetune@dragongirl420 @momc95 @art-flirt @evilangelqueen@chelbyswartz20 @serfyan18 @alyisdead @bitchassbecky691 @mtngirlforever@evilangelqueen @lokispunisher jules-ette lizzyhowie69@robindixon redm81rhochradel @beegnc heyitscam99 serfyan18 mrs-amendolarussosprettydiamondnow supernal-blyss rasax45 alilarkin99@simons-savior86 xbeckydixonx apricotlion sleepylunarwolf colagirl5 pxstelinkazanonikatiebug0603 sassi-luna beltzboys2015-blog rivaille-the-shortsynestra88synestra88 lana-del-dick smoothdogsgirlmustbeaweasleygingerwilde-abandonlucacangettathisass automaticstarlightcollectionl rivaille-the-short russosprettydiamondnow smoothdogsgirl colagirl5 twisted-tasty14 @justgipsy sizzlingcheesecakeglitterbomb @the-wintergirl @justrepostandlove @risingphoenix761 @rhyatt-deauxtreve awkwardlysexualvelociraptor driszzle natalie-reader xqueenunicornxx deliciousassafrasssandwich littleblackwolf016 princessxpunk lonewolf471 killer-mermaid93 chocolatealmondmillk mblaqgi jellyfishangel dotslabyrinth @isayweallgetdrunk @baseballbitch116 lonewolf471 @jender123 @madamwhisper @kazeouki-tan @nayyysa rosa-berberifolia @lady-dixon-riddick paintballkid711 ly--canthrope themonstermash-graveyardsmash lonewolf471 @elisdays @leej2468 sophia-gwendolyn storybookhall courtnytrash04 fuseburner lucillethings

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buttonso · 3 years

Text

Teamwork: An Aura/Harvey short

AKA: Buttonso Very Unsubtly Projects FEELINGS Onto Poor Aura.

I am going to put this below a cut both for length and because the whole thing concerns fears/anxieties around pregnancy. If you like it and want to reblog it, you may, but I will not tolerate any form of judgmental commentary. I'm prepared to block people if needs be.

2,685 words. Contains a few swears. Forgive any typos ^^*

So. Ok. Well. A few weeks ago, I learned that I was pregnant. I did not think it was in the cards for me, for various reasons, so it's been a surprise, and while it's a good surprise, I have found it to be more than a little overwhelming. My husband has been amazing and has been doing a good job of keeping me off the ledge, and this whole thing is based on one of the many pep talks he's given me in the last few weeks.

This clearly would take place after Breathe With Me is over. It may or may not be considered canon, as I could end up contradicting it in the future sequel of Breathe With Me...... which may be a long time coming now that my life is changing.

Maybe this is TMI, and if I've made anyone uncomfortable, I do apologize.

Teamwork

Harvey whistled under his breath, a cheery tune befitting the sunny day and his sunnier disposition. No matter how busy he got at the clinic, nothing had been able to dampen his spirits for long over the past several weeks. It was a lovely spring and promised to be an even lovelier summer. His home and his wife were lovelier still… and he was going to be a father. Oh, not for a awhile- Aura was nearing the end of her first trimester, but everything seemed to be going well so far.

It seemed that having everything he wanted in life agreed with Harvey.

His last appointment of the day had cancelled on him, and he’d decided to close the clinic early and head home to surprise Aura. He’d stopped by the General Store for a few things, the plan spinning out naturally as he shopped. He would draw a bath for her so she could relax after she came in from the fields while he cooked a nice dinner. He harbored vague, hopeful notions of offering her a massage after dinner, but that would be dependent on her energy levels after- it was entirely possible she would want to go straight to sleep.

Aura, of course, stubbornly insisted on continuing to do all the work she was accustomed to doing, and despite Harvey’s misgivings, he’d yielded to the judgement of her OB, who had said she could continue to work as long as she felt up to it. Well, the doctor was right, and he himself would have said the same thing to a patient, but that didn’t stop Harvey from worrying.

He did not see Aura anywhere near the farmhouse as he stepped up onto the porch, but that was not unusual. She might be in the far fields, or the barn, or the woods… she might well even be inside, working on something in the kitchen. But she always came home at 6:30 for supper, so he would be ready when she arrived. Harvey’s cheery little whistle became a contented hum as he set the groceries down on the kitchen table, then headed towards the bedroom to change clothes, loosening his tie as he walked. The living room and kitchen was empty- even the cat was nowhere in evidence.

The hum died in his throat as he pushed open the bedroom door and he saw her. Aura was lying on the bed, fully dressed on top of the covers, curled on her side. Her back was to him, and her body was shaking with soft, hopeless little sobs. Alarm shot through him- he couldn’t help the automatic, instinctive lunge towards the bed.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, as she jumped, clearly startled, nearly lurching off the bed as she turned to face him, eyes wide as she hastily wiped at her tear-streaked face. Murphy, who’d been hidden from Harvey’s view by Aura’s body, scampered off the bed in alarm, his tubby body hitting the floor with a thud on the opposite side of the bed, claws scrabbling on the floor as he scampered off.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!!” She exclaimed, one hand pressed to her chest and the other held out towards him, her finger pointing at him in accusation. “What are you doing home so early?!”

“My last appointment was canceled, and I thought I’d surprise you. Please… tell me, what’s going on…” He fought down the panicked, instant assumption of utter disaster, but he’d never seen her like this before. “…Did… did something happen? Are you well?”

“I-I’m fine…physically, anyway.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before rubbing at her eyes and cheeks again with both hands. “I’m just… having some feelings. Dealing with feelings was never my strong suit and it’s harder than ever these days.”

“What sort of feelings?” Harvey moved cautiously towards the bed, sinking onto it beside her.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Aura sighed, but she leaned into his touch when he reached out and put a hand on her cheek.

“It’s not nothing, you were in tears.” Anxiety made his voice tight and his tone a bit sharp. She flinched, biting her lip as she avoided his gaze. His hand slid from her cheek to her shoulder. “Sweetheart… please… tell me.” His heart raced and he felt himself trembling a little, despite his need to be brave. “Please,” He repeated, when the silence stretched between them, and he felt her shoulder beginning to tremble again.

“I-I…” she took a deep breath. “I’m… I’m scared, okay?” She blew out a frustrated breath and covered her face with her hands. “I’m… scared and I feel stupid, immature, selfish… I…I hate myself for feeling this way…”

“Why? What are you afraid of?” He slid his arm around her carefully, but she stiffened, rather than relaxing into his embrace as she always did. Dread crept up his spine, and panic made another attempt at clawing its way out.

“…I…I should be happier than I am. About the baby.” Her tone was extremely reluctant, her silver eyes downcast as she continued to avoid his gaze. She put a trembling hand on her stomach as the other hand came to rest on Harvey’s thigh. “But once the excitement of telling you wore off… every day, every week since… I’ve only gotten more and more worried.”

“Oh.” Harvey released the breath he’d been holding in a trembling sigh. “…Is… that all.” She still had a long way to go in her pregnancy… but still, that meant she’d been agonizing for several weeks in silence. It didn’t speak well for his attentiveness as a husband. “I’ve been floating around here like a happy fool, and I never noticed you were in distress…”

“You didn’t notice because I hid it from you,” She sighed. “I…I didn’t want to rain on your parade. And your excitement was definitely contagious at first, but now…”

“…Now?” He made another attempt at sliding his arm around her, and this time she did lean into him, to his relief.

“Everything… is gonna change, Harvey,” she said softly. “Everything. And I… I’m not sure I’m up to the challenge.”

Harvey ran his hand up and down her arm slowly in an attempt to soothe her. “I’m of the firm belief that there’s nothing you can’t handle, my dear.”

“But… don’t you see…” Aura paused as she seemed to try to compose herself, only to have her voice break. “I’m… I’m not good enough, Harvey.”

“Not good enough?” He echoed, biting back the automatic impulse to deny it. “Why do you think that?”

“There’s… there’s no doubt in my mind you’re going to be the best Dad ever. I mean… baby, you practically have nurturer tattooed on your forehead. But me? I’ve spent my entire adult life just doing whatever I wanted to do. I’ve learned how to be considerate of you, and to accommodate you in my life, but… a baby… I don’t… I don’t know how to be in a normal family. I just can’t see any way I’m not going to totally fuck this all up.”

“Sweetheart…” He tightened his embrace and pressed a kiss to her temple. “It’s perfectly natural to have concerns about impending parenthood… I know I’ve been all smiles since you told me you were pregnant, but I’ve been worried too… I grew up without a father, so I have no example to look back on. But we’ll learn together. We have friends with experience to draw upon, and we’ll be just fine. All three of us.”

“No, no it’s not… not just that…” Aura shook her head and gestured with one hand, as if she were shaping a lump of dough while she worked through her thoughts. “It’s not just worrying about doing a good job… even though I am… but I…” Her hand tightened into a fist, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “All this worrying I’ve been doing… I’m thinking about myself. How my freedom is going to be curtailed. How my relationship with you may be affected, may even suffer. How… how much I am not enjoying feeling the changes in my body.” Her cheeks reddened as her voice wobbled. “I hate feeling low-key sick all the time… my clothes are getting uncomfortably tight… my breasts feel too big, I’m not sleeping well... I mean, do you hear this? It’s all me, me, me, I, I, I… what kind of fucking self-centered monster am I? Instead of worrying about whether or not my baby is healthy I’m only thinking about how uncomfortable I am and how scared I am of all this change.” Her voice broke at last, and she began to sob again.

“Oh… my darling…” Harvey had never seen her in such a state, and he wasn’t quite sure how to react for a moment, but hugging her seemed like a safe bet, and he used both arms to do so, pulling her against his chest. “I wish you’d told me sooner…” He was no obstetrician, but Aura’s doctor was a friend of his, and he’d read quite a lot on the subject of pregnancy ever since they agreed to try for a baby. This felt like mere reassurance wouldn’t be enough. “You know… I meant it, earlier, when I said there’s nothing you can’t handle,” He said after a few moments of simply holding her.

“I know you think so, but…” She sniffed and he shook his head.

“No but.” He put just enough sternness into his voice that she blinked at looked questioningly at him.

“When you first came here… I was so in awe of how confident you were. You came here all by yourself and resurrected your grandfather’s dying farm. You ventured into those dreadful mines and fought monsters… and you told me once that you were not going to stop taking risks if you had a shot at something better. I remind you of all this not to dismiss your concerns… but to tell you that I have every confidence in you,” Harvey told her, doing his best to be calm. He hated seeing her this way, but he knew he needed to be the strong one now, even if that was normally her role.

“How can you not be… disgusted by what I just told you?” She asked damply, sniffing again, and wiping her face inelegantly with the back of her hand, blinking several times to clear the tears from her eyes.

Harvey fished a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. “Because you’re my favorite person in the world, and I love you so very much.” He smiled, feeling a bit shy and awkward. “I think you should talk to some of the other mothers in town… or if you aren’t comfortable with that, find a support group online. You cannot possibly be the only woman to feel this way. I of course cannot know what it feels like to be pregnant, but… it is not surprising at all that the physical changes may be disturbing. I’m no obstetrician but I have treated pregnant women before.”

“…I… thought about reaching out to Doctor Delecroix… I hadn’t talked to her in a while, but she always makes time for me if I need it…” Aura admitted, hesitantly. Aura’s therapist was a big believer in the power of the internet and was more than willing to have video chats with patients if they couldn’t make it to her office in Zuzu City, even a patient she was no longer seeing regularly, such as Aura.

“If you think it will help, then you should.” She’d stopped trembling, at least. “You’re not doing this alone,” Harvey added. “It will be a big change, it’s true… but it’s a change we’ll navigate together.”

“Just… just admitting how I’ve been feeling… It does help, a little…” Aura said slowly. “I’m still scared, but…right now, at least… I feel… I feel a little better… I…” She hesitated a moment. “I do want this baby, you know… I just… I didn’t expect to have all these mixed feelings.”

Harvey pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’re doing this together,” He repeated. He’d say it as often as he had to. “We’re not just a team, we’re a family. No matter what happens. You, me, the little one…” There was a soft thud and a little “mrrrp” as Murphy returned to the bed, making his way to Aura’s lap and purring as Harvey stroked his head. “And him,” Harvey added. “We’d never forget you,” he said with a chuckle as the cat shoved his blocky head up into Harvey’s hand.

“I was so afraid that you’d be hurt if I admitted how I’ve been feeling…that… that was the worst part…” Aura said quietly, rubbing at her cheeks again. “I’m sorry if you were…”

“I was only worried about you,” Harvey said as they took turns petting the cat, who settled into a happy loaf on Aura’s lap, reveling in the attention. “Please don’t ever suffer in silence… our little one has a lot of growing to do yet, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep her mother happy.”

“Her?” Aura chuckled. “We can’t possibly know the sex yet. Besides, I thought all men wanted sons.”

Harvey shrugged. “Whenever I imagine it… I see a girl. Someone who will grow up as strong and beautiful and brave as her mother.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Though I wouldn’t say no to eventually having an assortment.”

She snorted and tilted her head a bit so she could kiss him lightly. “How about we make sure everyone survives this one before we talk about assortments… I’m still not loving the physical side of all this. I’m afraid I may be difficult to live with the next several months…I’ll… I’ll try my best to not be a complete monster.”

“Just be honest with me about your feelings, and I’ll extend you the same courtesy.” It was Harvey’s turn to initiate a kiss, brief and tender though it was.

“I…I should get back out there…” Aura said reluctantly, swinging her legs off the bed. “Got a few things that need doing before the day’s over.”

Harvey wanted to argue, to insist that she stay in and rest, but he didn’t have the heart to try to cage her now. “Go and do whatever you need to do… just be careful, please… and I’ll have a bath and dinner waiting for you when you get back.” He caught her hand as she nudged the cat off her lap and stood up. “And as for whether or not the baby will hurt our relationship… of course I can’t see the future, but… I can’t imagine any outcome apart from loving you more.” Harvey felt his cheeks heating in the familiar old blush that she could manifest in him with little more than a smile.

“I…” Aura gave a brittle little laugh and pulled his knuckles to her lips, giving them a brief kiss. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

“I’ve told you before that you should let me be the judge of that.” Harvey answered as she quickly wound her hair into a loose braid.

“And you’ll… you’ll tell me if you have things you’re worried about, right? Or if I do or say something to hurt you? You won’t suffer in silence either?” She asked pointedly.

“I promise,” Harvey answered as she headed towards the door. “I love you, Aura.”

She paused at the doorway and blew him a kiss with a weary chuckle. “I love you, too, Harvey. Thank you… for being you. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

Harvey smiled as she left the room, listening to her footsteps fade. Murphy shoved his head against Harvey’s arm, and he gave the cat a stroke. “Well, boy… life isn’t simple even when you do have everything you want,” he said to the cat. “But we’ll just have to do our best and look after each other… it’s all anyone can do, I suppose.”

#my fic #farmer aura #stardew harvey #pregnancy cw

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 3 years

Text

A Shared Meal

Mensah cooks dinner, and MB admits that it likes how food smells. This is a sweet little one-shot based on a Discord conversation about MB and cooking.

The kitchen area in Mensah's farmhouse has been created with an extended family in mind.

There was enough space for at least three different people to comfortably move about and room enough in the pantry to feed a dozen human beings. That afternoon, through some miracle of scheduling, the house stood silent.

Mensah was alone in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tangy-smelling hot liquid while pacing and reading reports on her display surface. The doctor was technically on vacation, but that didn't stop her from fussing over whatever work she brought home.

I sat on a couch in the next room over, re-watching Sanctuary Moon episodes in preparation for a live performance that evening. I'd come down to the planet to spend the day with Mensah and see a play, and hadn't been paying attention to the human until her pacing brought her into the living area. A couple of my drones captured her entrance, but I looked up when she approached.

"It's going to be another extended council session when I get back," she said, long fingers wrapped around her mug. Steam slowly rose from the concoction inside. "I understand the necessity, of course, but it's... frustrating."

I checked my logs and then said, "You should eat something."

The human rolled her eyes at me. "Mothering's the last thing I want right now. But... you're not wrong. Come sit in the kitchen?"

I didn't see any reason not to, so I got up and settled on a tall barstool in front of a chest-high stone counter. Mensah's house was largely Murderbot-proof, so I didn't have to worry about destroying the furniture if I sat on it. This isn't always the case, and I appreciated Dr. Mensah's thoughtfulness.

Through a drone, I watched her remove fresh ingredients from a crisper and lay them out on the counter. She pulled out a cutting board and began deftly chopping at vegetables I couldn't name.

"What do you think about all of this?" She gestured at the display surface, now face down on the counter.

I had no opinions on the inner workings of the Preservation Alliance's governing body. As far as SecUnits went, I was a terrible example, and she would've had better luck discussing policy with Three. Unfortunately, it was currently on a trip with its family and out of easy communication range, but I suspected she had talked with it before its departure.

Meanwhile, Mensah chuckled. "Have you even looked at the news?"

"Enough to know that I don't care."

"Fair."

She tossed something onto a hot skillet, and the ingredient sizzled satisfyingly when it encountered the heat. Whatever it was smelled great. I don't eat and have no digestive system — which hasn't always stopped humans from forcing me to consume food — but the smells of human cooking are nonetheless pleasant.

"That's ghee," Mensah told me when she noticed me looking. "It's clarified butter."

The ingredient. Right. I still couldn't care less about its name, but now it had a name. On a whim, I pulled the terms for all of the other ingredients on the counter from the local feed archives. I doubted the conversation would veer toward food since the human knew I didn't eat, but having the names made the process appear less mysterious.

"I've never seen you pay attention to any of us cooking," Mensah admitted while tossing vegetables into the heated pan, followed by more sizzling and delightful smells.

Usually, I didn't hang out in her kitchen while the family cooked or ate dinner, and on those rare occasions when I couldn't avoid it, the process looked boring. Food appeared, humans consumed it, and then seemed more cheerful and relaxed afterward. The side effects were nice.

"It smells good," I admitted.

I liked the smells of humans food courts and cooking areas, especially once I'd returned to Preservation Station with Mensah and could walk around the station without triggering every alarm in the mall.

"Which parts?" Now Mensah was looking curiously at me. Well, she was looking past my right shoulder, but she was good at not making eye contact. I still knew she was intrigued, and I could easily see her expression through the drones' cameras.

"All of it?" This was hard to explain to a human. "I like the way food smells. I just don't want to eat it."

She frowned in that thoughtful way where her brow creased. "Huh. I never knew that. Want me to teach you some recipes?"

"I can look it up."

"It's not the same, SecUnit," Mensah told me. "I've been teaching Amena recently when she's home between semesters. I could show you a few tricks."

Well, that explained the younger Mensah's middle-of-the-night exploits. Maybe. I wanted to remind the doctor that I didn't actually need to eat and would have no practical application for the skill, but before I could, she went on. She peered at my face and judged whatever she found there worthy of further explanation.

"Sometimes, making food isn't about eating at all, if that's what you're thinking," Mensah mused, her gaze on the sizzling vegetables. "Sometimes, it's about community and connection — words you're probably allergic to. But think of it as an experience or an art. It's like going to see a play that's only performed once. No two meals are going to be exactly alike."

That made sense to me. At least here on the farm with ingredients cultivated in the family gardens, freshly-cooked food had distinctive smells and tastes. I imagined that rations all tasted pretty much equally terrible given the sheer number of complaints I'd heard about them over the cycles.

Mensah took a sip of her cooling drink and leaned back against a counter. "I love the smell of coffee. It reminds me of home, honestly. You can't get decent coffee on a station, so when I want the good stuff, I have to come back here."

I sat at the counter, watching Mensah cook with my own two eyes and the companionable silence felt comfortable. I didn't want to stare at a wall for a change, and no one asked me to talk about my feelings.

I still hate planets, but I could get used to moments like this, occasionally. I cropped together a recording of the preparation ritual and sent it to ART, who was scheduled to visit in the next dozen cycles or so. It would get my message sometime before docking at Preservation Station.

Sharing one family with another maybe wasn't so terrible, even if it meant I didn't get through all episodes of Sanctuary Moon I wanted.

#murderbot #dr. mensah #fanfiction #sweet #fluff

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

Text

Not Alone: Chapter Eleven

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P new character unlocked

-> Word Count: 2.1k

-> Warnings: none(?)

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

The sun set as they reached the top of a hill she never climbed. It was in the opposite mountain range from where she had been and she was nervous of it. She didn’t know what lied on the other side. Her feet hurt and she was tired.

He layed a bunch of bows on the ground and gave Y/n a very appealing look. It made her stomach hurt.

She walked to where he had chosen to sleep and smiled at it. There were branches on the ground which made a mat for sleeping. He had chosen a huge tree with great bows to protect them in case it rained. He was like her father, more than she expected him to be. Not that she ever expected to meet him.

“They think you’re dead.”

He put the last bow down and sat on it. He took the jacket he had brought with him and put it down, patting it for Y/n to sit beside him. Her steps hurt her feet now that they had stopped walking. She dropped onto the ground beside him and watched his eyes sparkle as darkness took over the night sky. She tucked her bow and quiver next to her, always close.

“I was taken to the work farms. We were hiding in this old house like your farmhouse. I wasn’t smart like you though. I never thought about bunkers or having a few different houses and traveling between them. I was an idiot. Anyway they came. I hid Mina and Kirishima and let them take me.”

His face was stoic. She wanted him to kiss her again. She started to wonder if he was going to.

“How did you get away from the farms?”

“I met some people while I was there. Doctors who were forced to work the breeder camps and other scientists. They convinced me I needed to start a revolution from the outside. I escaped with some of him.” He shook his head, as if his thoughts entertained him and brushed his hand through his hair again. He looked at Y/n and smiled, “You know a good spot to clean up around here?”

She shook her head, “Never been here before. You’re starting a revolution?”

He nodded, “The camp we were just at is one of our peace camps. It’s like a retreat. The children and young and old stay there. We have people coming and going constantly. Didn’t you notice how easily you were welcomed?”

“I guess. I just thought that’s what people were like when they live in a camp like that. Aside from the machine gun escort that is.”

He laughed again. She liked the sound of it but it reminded her of Kirishima.

“Well that was a big wolf Y/n. How’d you end up with him?”

“His mother gave birth and must’ve gotten sick shortly after. Hades was waiting for me at the door of the cabin one day. He was tiny then. I could hear his brothers and sisters in the woods. I found the mother dead and half eaten surrounded by the other cubs who were weak and sick. It was awful. I shot them and burned them. It’s the closest the infection ever got to my cabin. He was immune anyway so that’s helpful.”

“He’s immune? Naturally? Maybe he never ate any of the mom.”

Y/n shook her head, “Nah, she wasn’t the only sick thing Hades has eaten. He likes the infected.”

He grimaced, “That’s disgusting. Disgusting and lucky all at the same time.”

“It is.”

“What do you know about the start of the infection?”

Y/n shrugged, “People got sick and some died but others lived and went a little crazy.”

His eyes looked dark as his expression lost its humor and the sun set completely. “No Y/n, people didn’t just get sick. The infection was spread on purpose. Everything that’s happened has been a plan all along.”

“That can’t be true.”

“I wish it weren’t. There was something called the United Nations. They did all of this.”

Y/n felt sick, “They were evil?”

“Not evil, just detached. The world was running out of resources and everyone was constantly putting a hand out to them and asking for aid and food and money. The UN had been warning us forever about global warming and the ice melting and the ocean becoming acidic. Anyway in 2012 all of Greenland's ice and snow melted in a week. The earth started to enter a drought. We thought it was a cyclical event but it wasn’t. It was man made. We had pushed it too far. The same time all this was happening, a conference was held in Rio about the environment. Canada, the US and China pretty much pulled out and admitted they had no intention of slowing their pollution to the recommended level. It would be too hard on their economies. That was the final straw. Apparently the UN had a backup plan for a worst-case scenario such as that. They had a plague. It had a vaccine, which made it easy to spread and then control. The problem was it mutated. They spread the virus at the same time they had bombs placed deep in the ocean along the Japanese coastline. They bombed the shelf and pretty much wiped Japan off the face of the earth and made the west coast of North America a target for huge tidal waves.”

It felt like a movie to Y/n. It didn’t feel real. It felt like the ramblings of her father, before.

“How could you know all this?”

“The work farms. I met people who had been part of the initial plan. The plan was to reset everything. Instead the UN decided they wanted to start humanity over but set it up to succeed this time. The breeder farms were built where only the fit and healthy were allowed to reproduce."

She shivered just imagining it.

Bakugo laughed, “It isn’t what you think. I know what everyone thinks happens but it’s not. The girls only breed every three years and only up to three times. The pregnancy isn’t the result of rape, it’s done using science. The baby is made in a lab and then inserted into the woman’s womb.” Y/n gagged and Bakugo laughed. “The religious had the same reaction. The UN never mentioned this plan to anyone but the very high ups. It never went well.”

“The girls are still taken against their will and made to make babies against their will.”

She saw his head nod in the dark, “Yup and the babies are not God’s children to the Christians. Anyway the UN runs the military but again, they sit in their closed office and plan using numbers and facts and data. They don’t leave it to see what the world looks like or how corrupt the military is. They’ve built six cities world wide from the ashes and rubble of previous cities. They plan on cleaning every inch of the world.

Y/n’s head was spinning, “What about the borderlands?”

“They can’t use anymore bombs without affecting the weather and pollution again, so the plan stands at leaving us to our own devices until they have this part of the world cleaned up. Then they’ll come round us up.”

“Why?”

“They want the diseases and illnesses bred out. They won’t allow those people to live and breed.”

“Oh my god it’s like a nightmare.”

“It is. On that note, we need sleep. You sleep first and I’ll keep watch.”

“That’s some bedtime story.” She liked Kirishima’s better. He laughed and Y/n watched his silhouette in the dark for a moment. He didn’t lean in to kiss her. He was watching the hill they climbed. “How long have they been breeding science babies?”

His outline turned to her and she saw the shine of his eyes in the dark,”A long time.”

“Are the babies different than the rest of us?”

“Yeah.”

The broken branches led them to a camp in a valley on the opposite side of the mountain where her farmhouse sat. The size of the camp was disturbing. Bakugo smiled as he saw it and walked directly up to the man holding the gun amid the trees.

“Halt.”

“Oi dunce face!” Bakugo shouted.

The gunman smiled, “No shit, Bakugo you’re alive. I heard they caught you.”

Bakugo laughed, “They think they did. Is Monoma still in charge?”

The man Bakugo called dunce face pointed to the camp, “He’s still in the smallest tent, you know what he’s like. Still paranoid they’ll bomb us.”

Bakugo laughed and pointed towards Y/n, “This is my friend Y/n.” She felt hurt when he called her his friend. She didn’t know why but the word stung.

“I’m Denki,” He put a hand out and Y/n noticed he had a nice smile. She met his golden eyes and smiled back, “Nice to meet you.” His eyes flickered to Bakugo and an even bigger smile crossed his lips, “So where’d ya two meet?”

She looked at Bakugo.

“She walked up to the mountain retreat the other day with a huge wolf for a pet and an unruly teenager.”

Denki’s eyes grew wide, “You have a wolf?”

She nodded. She wanted to find Mina and Kirishima. She didn’t understand why Bakugo wasn’t busting inside to see them. She felt herself fidget in place,

“Well I’m gonna go see Monoma and see what’s new on this side of the hill.”

They walked toward the camp as the sound of birds squawking filled the forest. The gunmen lower their weapons as they hear the sound and they walk past them. The camp opened as the forest spread thin. It looked like the camp they were at before except that everyone was wearing a firearm or knife. At one point Y/n swore she saw a sword. There were no children here.

“Bakguo! You’re alive!”

A girl with long blonde hair and cut off shorts ran and jumped into his arms. Y/n’s heart stopped as she watched the girl kiss his lips. The lips that only just kissed Y/n the day before. She felt heat radiating from her cheeks. She heard about men who weren’t tied down in romance novels and felt sick thinking that she had fallen for one. All the years of reading the novels and judging the ladies who seemed strong and smart and then fell for a jerk. Reality hurts. She wanted Kirishima and Mina and her cabin and Hades and Jirou. She wanted to let the world kill itself and hide up in the mountains. She never wanted to kiss Bakugo again. She couldn’t believe she was so reckless.

“Camie what the hell. You know me better than that,” He twirled her around and looked sheepishly at Y/n, “This is Y/n.” Y.n nodded and gripped her bow.

Camie beamed at her, “Wow nice find Bakugo, He save you from the farms too?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a hero.”

Camie looked at Bakugo, who was staring at Y/n. Y/n walked past him and started to look around. If he didn’t want to find his friends then that’s his problem. Y/n would be damned if she would let them live another moment without the knowledge that their asshole of a friend was alive and well.

“You pissed at me?” Y/n didn’t turn and continued along, eyes desperately searching the crowds of people.

“Bakugo.” He shook hands with a very tanned man with the whitest smile Y/n had ever seen. People continued to greet him, but she couldn’t hear them anymore. She saw what she was looking for. She saw a tall guy limping with shaggy red hair. She broke into a run and dived into his arms when she was close enough to him.

As she made contact he turned. His face was exactly as she remembered it. He had her in his arms before she could speak a word.

“Y/n oh my god. Y/n it’s you. Holy shit I thought they got you.” He was planting kisses everywhere across her face.

“Where’s Mina?”

Kirishima’s kisses stopped but his grip on her face was still strong, “They took her.” Y/n felt her heart drop and wanted to collapse into his arms and sub.

“Shitty hair.”

Kirishima dropped to his knees in front of Y/n. His hands left her face and fell onto the tops of his knees.

“Bakugo? Bakugo is that you?”

Bakugo rushed at him and lifted him up. He pulled him into his embrace. The friend’s hug was fierce but all she heard was the sentence ‘they took her’ repeating in her mind.

Kirishima looked back at her, “You found him?”

Y/n shook his head, she had no words. They hug and cry and laugh but she was stunned. Finally able to speak, she muttered, “Where’d they take her?”

Their reunion no longer meant anything to Y/n.

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saebyeog-i · 4 years

Text

bitter brews (i) | syh

“Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.””

genre | not quite a coffeeshop!au, (mild)slow burn, this thought about being an adversaries to lovers fic for six minutes

rating/warnings | a stupid amount of exposition about coffee plants, catch me throwing in the random recipes that have been my go-to for cooking during quarantine, is this angsty?, discussions of mental health issues {see tags for details}, overall mature content/themes {foul language, alcohol consumption, references & discussion of masturbation, awkward boners, future smut}, some soft moments, and some good ol’ tooth rotting waxing poetic nonsense fluff. Don’t expect too much out of this I just got tired of editing this part so I’m finally posting it.

word count | 19.6k (I meant for this to be a super long one-shot but it’s turning into a story in parts for the sake of ratings w h o o p s)

pairing | Johnny Seo x fem reader

writing playlist | Egotistic - Mamamoo, Black Swan - BTS, Sober - HYO, I Blame On You - Taeyeon, Heartbeat - BTS, Close to Me (Red Velvet Remix) - Ellie Goulding feat. Red Velvet

—

“So, what you mean to say is… you’re not coming? Like, at all?”

The bright yellow plastic of the rotary phone was slightly cool against your overheating skin, which was constantly veiled in a thin layer of sweat whenever you stayed on the farm property instead of the main house on the opposite side of the island. It was the first week of May, which meant it was already humid again. If it wasn’t the time for the daily afternoon rain showers, it might as well have felt like it was raining with how saturated the air was.

“I’m sorry, Bean, I just can’t get on a plane right now. I thought it would be fine it we stretched out the time between flights, but all my doctors are saying I need to just stay here between now and the birth, so…”

Your sister’s voice trailed off and you had to wait for a moment to be sure it wasn’t the poor reception for the phone call running across the four thousand miles that separated you— the four thousand miles that would continue to separate you for the rest of the summer.

You exhaled and twirled the aged spiral phone cord that could barely hold its shape around your index finger, staring at the concrete floor and scrunching your toes. “Well, I’m already here, obviously… do you… you want me to stay here then? Take care of stuff?” You asked hesitantly, already having a feeling of what the answer would be.

A crackly sigh of relief came through the other line. “Little Bean, you are the best, Yunho was worried about asking you to stay and man the farm for the summer harvest but I knew you would just offer! You’re the best like that, you know?” You gritted your teeth and forced a smile through, even though no one was there to witness it. “Okay, so we’ll ship out the supplies in the next few days. Yunho is gonna email you a list of delivery dates of materials for the projects he had planned for the summer and a few contractor contacts…”

Her voice warbled on, and you could only nod your head and vocalize an ‘mhmm’ every so often, listening to her rattle off instructions and information that you knew would be sent in an email too. You’d been looking forward to spending the summer with her— you hadn’t gotten a proper chance to visit for more than a weekend since she and Yunho had gotten married about two years ago— but it turned out this wouldn’t be it. You couldn’t blame her though; she was approaching the third trimester of her pregnancy. You’d do anything for her, even this, even isolating yourself on a farm for four months. Alone.

Not exactly the leave of absence you’d been hoping for from work, but it would have to do.

✧ ✧ ✧

This was supposed to be a vacation. A break. Some much needed time off, away from your job, your career, and your “normal” life. You told yourself over and over again you were looking forward to it. And besides, it would all be worth it, because of all the time you’d get to spend with your sister after so long.

And then she had to betray you by going and getting fucking knocked up, with twins no less.

Fucking happily married couples with their god damn healthy ass sex lives and family planning and wanting to raise children. What the fuck was that all about?

It had been so long since your last vacation. Years, in fact. So long, you had over two months of paid time off accrued at work, and back at New Years you’d made the preliminary plans to spend a month on the farm in Hawaii with her, bonding and just relaxing. Sure, it would require some manual labor for the business here and there, but mostly just to rest.

What a joke that turned out to be.

The farm in Hawaii. You know, the coffee farm your brother in law bought four years ago on a dare from your sister, because he said he could totally pull it off as a side hustle, and she said he wouldn’t be able to? Yeah, that one. Fast forward to today and the side hustle became a full fledged passion that roped in a good amount of the family into the business. Siblings, cousins, parents, all involved in different aspects of package design, social media marketing, distribution and wholesale— everyone except you, who stuck with your soul sucking job in advertising, the same industry your brother in law had since left behind.

The farm and roasting wasn’t an overnight success by any means, but in the last year the brand had really taken off in the craft coffee scene. After all, Kona coffee was well sought after, and one could only claim the name ‘Kona’ if it was grown on the same two thousand or so acres of land on Hawaii’s big island. You know, the same area of land you were living on for the remainder of the summer?

Right. The whole summer.

It was just supposed to be the month of May. And then it turned into May and some of June, when you’d asked your sister to make more concrete plans, and she kept brushing it off. And then the week before you actually got off the plane, you hadn’t booked the return ticket, because you were still waiting for her answer. And then the phone call, and now, this was… indefinite? No, that was being too dramatic; if anything, it would be up through the birth. Based on the number of projects Yunho had planned for the farm, through the remainder of the summer was how long everything would take. Just you and a little over five acres of land and the summer heat. The thought of an extended isolation had your breath catching in your throat, but the last thing you wanted to do was complain or call for help. Stubborn and proud, you wouldn’t have made the offer to stay if you didn’t mean it, if you didn’t think you could handle it. There was no way you were backing out now.

When Yunho had first bought the farm, it had been a rough first few years of refining the coffee plants that had been on the land and uncared for for a number of years, but the last two summers had provided a steady increase in the harvest yield. There was a small farmhouse on the property, with two small bedrooms, a shower, and a small kitchen and living area. A few miles down the coast was the nicer, newer condo that the business had bought, a multi-bedroom unit with some better amenities for when more of your family wanted to visit. It felt weird spending time there— it was too nice, too clean, and quite frankly you had enough to keep yourself busy with on the farm property, you’d rather not have to spend time driving back and forth every day. So you opted to spend most of your nights sleeping here, even though it meant only ceiling fans and no air conditioning.

The farmhouse had very shitty, very limited wifi and a grand total of three electrical outlets outside of what was used to power the oven and refrigerator. One of those outlets was, of course, dedicated to an espresso machine on the kitchen counter, which you had gotten acquainted with over the last two weeks. It was an older model and a little temperamental (the one at the condo was much nicer), but it was still from a decent manufacturer, and you could still use it to pulled a decent shot.

Most of the time you worked in silence, and most of the time you were never too aware of how much time had passed, other than when the sun went down and it was suddenly dark out. You weren’t always this absent minded, you swore— maybe it was a byproduct of being alone for so long—

A loud, high pitched whine filled your ears, followed by some scratching at the door that lead to the lanai outside. You sighed, standing up from the kitchen table and walking over to face the monster that had made it.

“What? What do you want now?”

Staring back at you from the the other side of the screen door was what you’d affectionally referred to as The Thirty-Three Pound Menace— the medium sized stray dog that your brother-in-law so conveniently forgot to mention had been living on the farm for the last few months. It had been waiting outside the farmhouse when you first arrived, and you’d learned from the neighbors that Yunho had taken a liking to the stray and had arranged for them to feed it in his absence. But now that you were here, taking care of the dog was added to your list of daily chores. It seemed to not want to leave the farm property unless actively accompanied by you, with the assurance that you’d be bringing it back with you.

With a roll of your eyes you hip checked the door open just enough to let the dog inside the house. It circled you several times, sniffing at your knees before sitting and panting, staring up at you expectantly. In the two weeks you’d been here, the majority of your conversations were between you and this, a being that couldn’t talk back. Maybe you liked it that way. “What, dinner? Fine, fine,” you grumbled, shuffling to the cabinet and pulling out a can of wet food.

Your meals had consisted of relatively simple dishes, but today you were cranky at the confirmation that your summer was not going to go as planned. Tonight’s dinner featured a bowl of cereal and a coffee mug full of cold white wine.

You ate in silence. You drank in silence. The only noise came from the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, and the occasional sound of the dog, cleaning its paws and laying by your feet protectively. Why it seemed so determined to win over your affection, you had no idea.

After sitting in silence with only your thoughts and the now sleeping dog to keep you company for what felt like hours and downing a second mug full of wine, you found yourself letting out a loud yell, startling the dog and waking it. In a fury, you pulled out the laptop you had for the sole purpose of checking once a day for emails from Yunho and connected it to the shitty, sub-par wifi with just enough patience to navigate to an airline’s website and search flights back to the states. You were looking for the cheapest, most reasonable one you could find. After all of five minutes of research and a quick round on mental math, you clicked on a date and hit the ‘book now’ button before you could second guess yourself, slamming the computer shut once the payment went through and shoving it away from you across the table.

“September 10th,” you grumbled out loud for only you and the dog to hear. Standing from the chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, you crossed the room and stopped in front of the wall calendar your sister had put up the last time she’d visited the farm just after New Years. You lifted a few pages and flipped forward to the month of September. Red marker in hand, you found the date and circled it rather aggressively, several times over. You looked down at the dog, watching you patiently with its head tilted. “You got that? I’m getting off this fucking island on September 10th.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The day your life fell apart came twelve days later just before nine in the morning.

Mondays were the delivery day, that’s what Yunho had laid out in his instructional emails to you. Your only source of personal transportation was an older jeep, one you didn’t enjoy driving, given that it had no top and needed some mechanical work done. So you’d made arrangements and had your groceries delivered on Monday mornings, buying mostly direct from another farm on the other side of the island, and they were always kind enough to act as the courier for whatever additional miscellaneous supplies you’d request, regardless of where they’d have to go to procure them.

There was a winding driveway that lead up to the house from the main road, and a larger, wider drive up a less steep hillside for larger vehicles for delivery. You were fully expecting the truck that lumbered up the delivery road and came to a stop just outside the barn which housed the massive coffee roaster and stored most of the processed green beans from harvest. Even though it had only been three weeks, there was a routine that had slowly been settling into place: the sound of the truck coming to a stop riled up the dog, the dog came running from wherever and started barking, you’d get your groceries and any other assorted items, the dog would get a treat because your delivery boy had a soft spot for the creature, and you’d pay for your goods. “Hey Jin,” you called out over the barking from the front of the barn, hands currently full with a sack of processed coffee beans you’d hoisted over your shoulder. “You can just leave the groceries on the porch, I’ll put them inside in a few. Did you manage to get me the bags of fertilizer and some wood stakes?” A loud thud sounded as you dropped the bag to its resting place on the concrete floor.

“I mean, I can go put these inside if that’s easier. And yeah, there’s ten bags to get us started, we can have more delivered next week if you still need ‘em.”

You whipped around to face whoever had just spoken, because that voice was most certainly not Jin.

He was tall like Jin, had wide shoulders like Jin, and his hair was kept just a bit long and looked ridiculously shiny and soft and like you could run your fingers through it like Jin’s. It was a lighter brown with some honeyed highlights running through it, compared to the dark brown almost black of Jin’s. You tensed, seeing him carrying a brown paper bag with a loaf of bread and the leafy green tops of carrots sticking out the top. He wasn’t looking at you, rather, he was far too occupied with bending down slightly and scratching behind the ear of the dog who was currently whining and wagging its tail at his feet. Some guard dog it was.

Without a second thought, you reached for the first sharp object you could find, which happened to be the box cutter you used to cut open the burlap bags the beans came back from the processing plant in. “You’re not Jin,” you said tersely, holding the utility knife by your hip defensively.

“Chill out killer, he’s harmless,” a more familiar voice called. Seokjin, your regular delivery driver whose family owned the farm you bought directly from, came into view carrying another two bags of produce and a small pile of envelopes. “Picked up your mail on my way up, the box was practically overflowing. Do you ever check that thing?” You’d first met Jin two years ago when you’d come to visit your sister and Yunho for a long weekend. He’d become a good friend of Yunho’s and was one of the people who would take turns feeding the dog when no one else was here.

Ignoring the unknown man, you relaxed your shoulders slightly and placed the knife down on the table behind you. “Thanks,” you grumbled, taking the small pile of letters from him. Admittedly, you hadn’t checked the mailbox since the day after you’d arrived on the farm, mostly out of sloth and spite. You sifted through the letters— mostly junk mail, with a few bills and notices relating to the business. You put those in front so you could look through them later, when you’d finished the physical work for the day. You tore one envelope open in particular when you noticed it was addressed directly to you and had your sister and Yunho’s Illinois address in the upper corner. It was a letter postmarked from two weeks ago, which struck you as odd, because what the hell would he bother writing in a letter that he couldn’t just send you in an email or a text or a phone call? You started reading aloud softly to yourself.

“‘My Dearest Bean… First of all I want to apologize for the change in plans, but with your sister’s condition her doctors just don’t recommend her traveling,’ God, he’s so dramatic she’s not terminally ill she’s just pregnant. Blah blah blah, I don’t care, you’re full of absolute shite, Yunho,” you began skimming through his lengthy pre amble, looking for the purpose behind the note. Without reading the middle you flipped the stationary paper over to see his handwriting covered the entire back of the page, too. “God, he’s so long winded. Oh, here we go, the very end— ‘I promise we’ll make it up to you, thank you for running the farm and taking care of Puppy, please be nice to Johnny and treat him well, he seems like a good kid.” You stared at the words written on the paper and looked up at Jin. “Who the fuck is Johnny?”

The man next to him cleared his throat and held his hand up. “Johnny! I’m uh, that’s me. You must be _____— I’ve heard a lot about you from Yunho! I’m Johnny Seo, it’s nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, reaching a hand out.

You eyed it but made no move to reciprocate the action. “Cool. You know Yunho. Lots of people know Yunho, he’s a huge fucking flirt, social butterfly of the century, the man never shuts up. Why should I be nice to you?”

He shifted on his feet and his outstretched hand retreated. “Oh. Uh. I’m uh, here for the summer,” he explained, sounding almost confused. “Didn’t— didn’t Yunho tell you?”

Your eyes bugged out and you looked over to Jin. “Jin who the fuck is this and why is he on my farm?” You whispered.

Your friend laughed. “You read the end of Yunho’s letter. I’m sure if you read the whole thing it would explain more. This is Johnny, and he’s here for the summer. He’s gonna help you out! I know the list of all the projects you need to finish this summer is lengthy, and plus look at the guy, he’s jacked! You could use the muscle for manual labor. More work for him, less for you, right? And look, the poor dog you refuse to give a name to even likes him!” Jin gestured comically at Johnny. You looked over, sizing him up some— Jin wasn’t wrong. The stranger was muscular on top of being tall, and under the capped sleeves of his tee shirt you saw his arms that looked the size of your head. The dog was still circling him, sniffing and begging for attention.

Johnny tried smiling again. “Yunho mentioned there was a lot of construction type work to do. I uh, had nothing else planned so he said I could stay on the farm for the summer and work in exchange for food and a place to sleep. I take it he uh, didn’t run that by you first, did he?”

Your grip on the papers in hand tightened and you felt your jaw tense involuntarily. “No, he managed to not mention that once to me. How did you even get here?” You hissed back.

“I picked him up at the airport this morning,” Jin answered calmly, “Yunho gave me a buzz a few days ago to ask if I could bring him here with this week’s groceries.”

“So he managed to arrange for him to get on a plane and secure transportation to the farm but couldn’t be bothered to call me and let me know?”

Jin only laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I’m pretty sure he knows you well enough by now to know that this would have been your reaction whatever way he told you.” Despite the kinship you’d felt growing between the two of you, Jin was Yunho’s friend first, and it only made sense that his allegiance would be to him first. Of course he’d side with Yunho on this matter. “And yes, like Johnny said I did bring a bundle of plant stakes and ten bags of fertilizer— they’re in the back of the truck bed.”

“Oh, I could get those—” Johnny started, moving to step towards the truck.

You could barely think straight. First they bailed on you unexpectedly to spend the summer on the farm alone. That was fine— you’d gotten that through your head, and had come to terms with that. But suddenly springing a plus one on you, without your consent? Absolutely the fuck not.

“Yeah. Don’t need help. Thanks,” you spat, grabbing the bags of groceries from him and brushing past, stomping your way back to the farmhouse.

Johnny stood frozen for a moment before stammering, looking from Jin to your retreating figure and back again. “I should— I should talk to her, right? Or do I—”

“Whoa, don’t think too hard there handsome, I can smell wood burning. Don’t stress about it. She’s just a little… touchy. Let me talk to her,” Jin patted Johnny on the back before heading up the path to the farmhouse after you.

You’d stormed into the house and slammed the groceries down on the counter and let out a screech of rage before picking up the receiver of the yellow rotary phone and dialing. Tapping you foot incessantly, you waited as it rang.

“He-llo~?” The singsong voice that came through the other end was far too amused with itself, more so than usual, and that’s how you knew he knew why you were calling.

“Jung Yunho you better be thankful you knocked up my sister because if it weren’t for the babies in her womb I would fly myself across the Pacific and flay you alive,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

In true unbothered fashion, your brother in law only laughed at your threat. “Ah, so I take it your employee has arrived safely! I’ll have to thank Seokjin for getting him from the airport. Can you give the Kims a pound of the special medium roast as a token of my gratitude?”

“No!” You yelled back, “No! I will not! I’m already beyond frustrated that I’m on this island alone for the entire summer, I’m doing this as a favor because we’re family! I’m not your slave, Yunho! Where was my warning, huh? When were you going to ask if I was okay with you sending some stranger to live in the same house as me, huh?!”

The familiar ache in your chest started to swell, and breathing became difficult. ‘Not now,’ you thought bitterly, ‘Please not right now-’

You curled your free hand into a fist and pressed your nails into your palm, hard, grounding yourself. Yunho’s voice on the phone blurred out and by the time his words started making sense again, you’d already missed what he’d been saying. “I’m not saying you have to like the kid, just show him some hospitality, yeah? You just said it yourself, you didn’t want to be alone this summer, and now you won’t be. I know you’re a good cook so that’s why I told him food would be included. Don’t worry, I’ve already sent some pre-payments to the Kims, so your grocery orders are doubled for the rest of the summer.” His voice went quiet for a second. You rubbed at your temple in frustration, squinting your eyes shut and forcing the mere thought of tears deep back into the recesses of your brain. “Bean? You still there?”

“Don’t get all pretend concerned, Yunho. And stop using my childhood nickname any time you want something from me.” Your voice was quieter now, the intensity of your emotions subsiding, but the betrayal you felt still running strong. “Fine. I’ll tolerate him. But there better be a case of wine in next week’s groceries to make this bearable.”

“Done and done! You’re gonna love him Bean, he’s really great. He’ll be good company.” The continued use of your childhood nickname from anyone other than your sister always gave you pause.

“I said tolerate not befriend. There’s a difference,” you clarified quickly. A knock at the door startled you, and you jumped and looked to see Jin standing by the front door, a roll of wooden stakes under his arm. You rolled your eyes and waved your arm to shoo him away, pointing at the phone pressed to your ear. “Look, Yunho, I don’t know what you’re hoping to see me get out of this, but if he drives me insane I can’t promise that he’ll walk away from this unscathed.”

His laugh echoed through the receiver and reverberated against your skin. “I just think it would do you some good to have some human interaction, that’s all. Your sister too. She says hi, by the way,” he added softly, “And so do the little ones.”

You scoffed. Yunho always brought up your sister as a way of diffusing your temper. He knew it would always work. “They’re still in embryonic fluid, they can’t talk and they certainly don’t have cognitive function.” Sometimes you wondered if even Yunho had that with the wild ideas that went through his mind.

“Ever the romantic, you are. You know, soon they’ll be able to think! And they’ll be thinking of their favorite auntie, and how much they can’t wait to meet her! So she can’t be arrested for murder between now and when they’re born, because babies can’t go to prison!”

“I’m telling your sister you said that,” you challenged. With an exhale, you did your best to let go of the frustration and tension inside and politely ended the phone call. You were trying to clear your head and collect yourself before heading back outside when you heard a yell that sounded all too much like Jin’s voice.

“What fresh hell—” you started, shuffling back outside in the direction of the commotion where you saw Jin, somewhat struggling under the weight of two bags of fertilizer, and Johnny, now with a baseball cap turned backwards on his head, easily hoisting a stack of four bags without slouching.

Your eyebrow ticked up upon the realization that it was almost seventy pounds that he was slinging around like it was nothing. “Anywhere specific you want these?” He asked innocently, looking up at where you stood on the lanai just outside the door. You almost cursed him out when he blinked at you twice.

You pointed your left arm down the hill, the opposite direction of the way to the barn. “Shed. Next to the vegetable garden.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “And lose the hat. Or at least don’t wear it backwards. Makes you look like an ass.”

Johnny’s mouth hung open for a moment before he hummed and winked. “You got it, Boss! Come on handsome, if you can carry those good looks you can carry some dirt,” he called back to Jin, who was currently grumbling about how manual labor wasn’t a part of his delivery arrangement.

The hairs on your arm stood up on edge as you watched Johnny laugh deeply as he ambled his way in the direction you’d pointed. The thirty three pound menace next to you whined and wagged its tail, panting as it went from watching you to watching Johnny’s retreating figure. You looked down and made eye contact. “If I survive this, I’m going to kill Yunho.”

✧ ✧ ✧

There was no case of wine in the grocery deliveries the following week. The reasoning Yunho gave was that per Jin’s investigation, the liquor stores were all out of your favorite wine, so there was no point in sending you a sub par alternative. It was absolute crap, but you had better things to do than chew out your brother in law over the phone. Took way more energy than it was worth.

So far, Johnny was making good on his word and earning his keep. At first, you’d tried avoiding him as much as possible, intentionally waking up hours ahead of him and starting your day when the sun rose. You never made much noise in the mornings, the loudest thing you did was make coffee, and lately you’d opted for a pour over versus pulling shots of espresso. You weren’t personally one for breakfast, choosing just coffee and maybe a piece of fruit instead. This morning you felt a little hungrier than usual, so you thought you’d get yourself a bowl of cereal. Peering into your pantry, you saw that on the shelf where there had been a stash of cereal boxes, there was now nothing.

“Where the fuck are my cocoa pebbles?” You swore in shock, not realizing you weren’t alone in the kitchen.

“Shit sorry, I ate the last of those yesterday.”

You whirled around to see Johnny, still seemingly half asleep and with some gnarly bedhead, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. His lips were so perfectly pouty, one small part of your brain almost thought he looked cute like this.

But no, he wasn’t cute, he was a thief— he’d stolen all of your cereal stash. “Did you seriously eat through four boxes in a week?” You asked incredulously.

“It was three and a quarter! And yeah I don’t know, I’m always hungry and just one bowl of cereal isn’t filling enough, so I usually have two, or three...” He mumbled, voice trailing off as he rubbed a hand behind his head sheepishly.

You snorted. And then a thought came across you. “Johnny,” you said calmly, the feeling of his name on your tongue foreign and strange. Was this the first time you’d addressed him by name since his arrival? You couldn’t remember. “Do you not know how to cook?”

He hummed thoughtfully for a second. “No-pe!” He popped the p sound in the word. How was he this cheerful, even first thing in the morning? “I mean, I can like, boil water and cook pasta and stuff like that. I think I successfully grilled pork belly once, though it was probably doused in too much oil and too many spices. My college experience was funded almost exclusively on instant dinners and takeout for two years, and then for the second half one of my roommates was an actual chef, so, no one was allowed in the kitchen ‘cept for him.”

“Honestly, I am shocked that you haven’t perished in some tragically strange idiotic accident yet,” you sighed and shuffled to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. You grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet under the stove and clicked the burner on, reaching for the oil bottle that lived on the counter top and drizzling some in the pan.

Johnny shuffled closer to inspect what you were doing and let out a gasp of appreciation. “You’re making me eggs and bacon?”

“I’m making me eggs and bacon,” you corrected, “But I guess I’ll make enough for you too,” you said as you peeled the strips off the packaging and placed them into the pan with a sizzle. You reached for a few eggs and cracked four into the pan directly, cocked your head at the amount of food, and then grabbed two more eggs and added them in before taking a fork and scrambling them all together, adding salt and white pepper to the bubbling liquid. You glanced up at Johnny, still watching you, slightly curious. “I don’t trust you. You say you’re an adult but you eat like a teenage boy still. There’s never any leftovers.” After a few minutes you flipped the strips of bacon over and then quickly chopped up a green onion and scraped it onto the scramble just before the eggs finished cooking.

Johnny watched you the whole time, and you felt only slightly uneasy under his gaze. When you turned off the stove after plated your food and stepping away to pour yourself some coffee and he didn’t move, you gestured at the pan in a fashion as if to silently ask him ‘What?’

“Oh!” He gasped out lightly, springing into action and plating the food for himself. You hadn’t bothered to sit down at the table, instead holding the plate in front of you as you leaned against the counter and ate. Johnny followed your lead, taking a bite and groaning audibly in enjoyment at he chewed. He smiled and his eyes shone, almost sparkling. You watched him curiously for a moment before he mumbled out “Your cooking is really good! It uh, reminds me of my mom’s. She’s a great cook.”

You kept your lips tightly shut at the apparent compliment. “It’s just eggs, you weirdo. Finish up and do the dishes. When you’re done meet me by the shed. Today you’re stripping off the old paint and removing any of the rotting boards and disposing of them,” you instructed while placing your empty plate in the sink. His tasks for the day were the next phase in slowly rebuilding the dilapidated shed on the west side of the property to make it useful for storage of all the tools you used to tend to the fruit trees and vegetable garden nearby.

He flashed a smile at you and gave a mock salute. “Aye-aye, captain, I am at your service.”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, downing more of your coffee before trudging off.

It was going to be a long summer.

✧ ✧ ✧

“I’m telling you Wendy, I’m going to need an alibi, I really am going to murder my brother in law.”

“What, for giving you live-in eye candy for the summer and hinting that he thinks you need to get laid?”

“Ugh, no, that’s not— hold up, you don’t agree with him, do you?”

The sound of your best friend’s laughter through the phone had you dragging your hands over your face and pulling down at your eyelids dramatically, as if she could see your reaction.

On Thursdays, you finished up your work for the day around 4pm so you could pull up a chair next to the rotary phone and make time for the weekly scheduled phone call with Wendy. She’d insisted on the arrangement after you went six days without texting her, which you’d insisted was because service was spotty, but she’d accurately called you out on being cranky and stewing by yourself.

You and Wendy had met during your freshman year of college. By graduation, you’d lived together for three years, and made a vow to move to the same city together post grad, hence why she was still your roommate now— or was, seeing as you were on the island instead of back in the two bedroom apartment you shared. There was a five hour timezone difference between Hawaii and Chicago, so you’d figured out a schedule that worked for both of you. The calls had a tendency to last for several hours, and depending on how much wine you’d drink while on the phone with her would include bathroom breaks and you inevitably swearing at whatever you were cooking for dinner than night.

“Honey, please. I love you. Dearly, and against all other advice, you’re my best friend— but you need to get laid. You haven’t been this tense since our last finals week of senior year. And clearly you’re not opposed to the idea of Eye Candy banging your brains out, otherwise you wouldn’t have described him as, and I quote, ‘dumb hot and stupidly ripped’. When are you gonna send me a photo so I have something better to work with?”

“Okay but are you sure you’re not the sexually frustrated one here and you’re just trying to live vicariously through me?”

Wendy’s hum sounded through the line. “I mean, can’t we both be desperately horny and in need of getting some? It’s not ideal but it is possible. Plus, I’m not the one that didn’t pack her vibrator—”

You let out a whine interrupting her as you leaned back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass a few times as you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder. “Shut up stop reminding me! I regret it but no I’m not letting you send me a new one, especially not with a guy living with me. Come on, my stories are boring, it’s the same thing every day. I wake up, I feed the dog, I tell him what to do and then I hide away doing my own chores. When are you gonna tell me more about that girl you were seeing— what was her name, Joo-something?”

“Nice try, we’re not changing the subject with my dating life. Seriously, babe, you should just think about it.”

“And what, make it awkward for the rest of the summer? No thanks,” you shot her idea down quickly.

“I’m willing to bet money you’ll cave before the end of the summer. Plus, who doesn’t love a good ol’ summer fling? And who says you ever have to see him again once it’s all over?”

As much as you’d loathe to admit it, Wendy had a bit of a point there. “Cute, but you and I both know I’m too high strung for a temporary fling. Plus, I’m not in the mood to catch feelings right now.”

“If I find a way to replenish your wine supply, would that help?”

You groaned dramatically once more. “Not with the sexual frustration, but with my overall wellbeing, yes, yes it would.”

Wendy squealed on the other end of the phone. “Ha! So you admit it, you are sexually frustrated!”

“Woman, when in the years that you’ve known me have I not been at least some kind of frustrated?” You acknowledged.

Your best friend laughed in agreement, understanding she wasn’t going to get much more out of you about Johnny, and began a lengthy and detailed story about her last three dates with a girl she’d met through a friend of a friend. As you listened to how her voice held a dreamlike quality to it when she talked about her, you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy you felt and a sinking feeling in your gut that you’d been lying through your teeth earlier, and that maybe, subconsciously, you did want to catch feelings.

Maybe.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So… is there a story or a reason why you’re here instead of Yunho?”

You lifted your head from your focused task of sorting out the peaberry beans from the regular beans. It was tedious, time consuming, annoying as all hell, and made you want a drink stiffer than the coffee that you were certain made up more of your body fluids than blood or water did at this point. “Yes,” you said curtly after studying his face for a minute, not providing any further explanation. Johnny had his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, nodding for a moment where he stood in the entrance to the barn.

You had set up your mad scientist level organization for the process all across the concrete floor of the refinished barn. Over the last week, Johnny had finished replacing the boards on the siding of the shed, stained the wood, and sealed it with a protective coat. He even managed to remove all the broken glass from the windows without sustaining any injuries, which you hadn’t thought possible for him. This morning you had him weed the vegetable garden, prune back the hedges along the back side of the house, and clean the deck of the lanai. How did he possibly still have any energy left? He was definitely a harder worker than you’d first given him credit for— you shook your head, not wanting to continue a spiral on Johnny and any detailed thoughts about him.

Back to your task at hand.

The harvest had been divided into several metal basins of five pounds of beans each, and in front of each basin you’d placed two dishes on either side. The point was to be able to weigh how many beans ended up being peaberry from each five pounds of harvest, and to see if you could leverage a steady average from the yield and better plan for how many pounds of the limited roast you could advertise for and set the price per pound accordingly. You wore a face mask and nylon disposable gloves while sorting, and despite being an annoying task, after a while it became a way for you to zone out and let the hours pass by. When the dishes were empty and you first started sorting them, there was a distinct echo of the small beans hitting the metal dish over and over again, until enough beans were lining the bottom that it started to dull the noise.

“Sigh.”

A slight puff of air washed over you. Did he just say the word ‘sigh’ out loud? And was he hovering over your shoulder?

“Can I help you?” You asked, pausing your sorting for only a moment.

“Isn’t it my job to ask you that question? I’m not some layabout, I am trying to earn my keep, you know,” Johnny said in response, rubbing his hands together and eyeing the basin of beans in front of him. You were almost inclined to hand it to him. Over the last four weeks, you’d gotten a lot of decent work out of him, even if you did feel somewhat micro-manage-y half the time with the tasks you did give him. “Okay, how does this work?”

You groaned exaggeratedly and excessively, rolling your eyes. When you didn’t answer, he reached forward and plucked a single coffee bean from the basin and examined it closely. “Hey, this one’s funny looking!”

“Don’t touch them with your bare hands, that’s just going to waste them.” You swatted the bean out of his hand and then looked at your own gloves and sighed. “If you’re insisting on helping, fine. But you need sanitary gear to handle them. Go wash your hands, there’s masks and gloves by the sink,” you grumbled, standing up and taking off your own gloves to dispose of them and replace them with a fresh pair.

Johnny followed obediently, trailing behind you a little too innocently for someone of his size. “Yes, the beans still need to be roasted and that’ll kill any bacteria, but I just like to be extra cautious, okay? Because it’s a mutation there’s no rule to how much of a yield I’ll get with each harvest so I don’t like wasting even a single bean,” you reasoned, settling back down and folding your legs back at the now half-sorted metal bowl.

“So, we’re just sorting the weird ones from the normal ones?” He asked while picking up another peaberry bean, this time with gloved hands and a mask over his mouth and nose.

You took a quick glance and nodded to confirm that yes, the bean in his hand was one of the weird ones he should be looking for. “They’re called peaberry. Normally, a coffee cherry has two seeds in it, or beans. Those two seeds mature in the center of the cherry and you get one flat side and one side touching it. Sometimes people call them ‘flat beans’ but those are the ‘normal’ beans, as you said,” you explained, sifting through your bowl rather quickly. “But the peaberry ones only have one bean inside. The bean is round, so that’s where the name ‘peaberry’ comes from, because—“

“Because it’s round so it looks like a pea, oh I get it! That’s funny,” he laughed, examining the rounded bean in front of him. “Okay, got it, so we’re sorting the peaberry from the flat beans?”

“You proud of your new vocab words?” You snorted, listening for the well known tink of a bean hitting the empty metal bowls. He giggled in acknowledgement.

You worked in relative silence, a small rhythm growing between the two of you. Johnny worked at about half the speed you did, but you couldn’t knock him for it, as it had taken you a while to pick up the pace when you first started hand sorting like this.

“How do you even know Yunho?” You finally asked. Four weeks since he’d arrived, and you’d never bothered to get to know him well enough to listen to the full story of how he’d ended up here.

Johnny shifted in his seated position, clearly a little taken aback that you’d bothered to ask him anything, given your track record. “Oh. Met him in Chicago when I was home visiting. At a local coffee shop, where my buddy Jaehyun is the manager. I went to go bother Jaehyun at work and he was just, shootin’ the shit with one of his coffee suppliers who was doing a visit. That supplier was Yunho. Started talking about how he owned the farm where the beans were grown, and that he wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer out there like he’d planned, so he was looking for some reliable help to uh, take care of things. Mentioned someone else would be on site and in charge, but offered the whole ‘room and board in exchange for copious amounts of physical labor’.”

“And you said yes? Just like that, no questions asked?” It seemed a little too easy, but then again, Johnny had proved to be a little too easygoing.

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point of my whole year. Just, go with the flow.” You glanced over, but Johnny was looking down, focused on the task at hand.

You nodded and hummed and turned back to your own basin to continue sorting. A few beats passed by before you couldn’t help yourself— “You’ve said that before. ‘Go with the flow’, or that you ‘had nothing else going on’. What do you mean by that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Johnny’s ears perk up, followed by movement of his cheeks implying the curve of a slight smile. “I’m on a gap year, I guess is what the kids would say. Or maybe sabbatical? Though it’s not like I have any tenure enough to qualify for the real meaning of the term. But yeah, anyways— year off from work. Not getting paid or anything, but, when it’s over if I want it, my old job is waiting for me.”

“How come? That seems so—”

“Impulsive?”

You frowned. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he repeated, but not in a mocking manner— it was in agreement. “I guess the best way to explain it is this: I was a huge workaholic. I’ve only had my one job post grad after studying business, and I woke up one morning a month before my twenty-fifth birthday and realized it was sucking the soul out of me. It was all I ate, slept, breathed, and it wasn’t even what I wanted to be doing with my life, I realized.”

His pain started sounding all too familiar. “What is it you wanted to do instead, then?”

Even under the mask covering the lower half of his face, his smile reached his eyes. “Photography. I got into an art school when I was applying to colleges, but it just seemed so… risky. I would’ve had to take out loans and instead I got almost a full ride for a bigger university, so I went for that instead. Studied business, managed to grind through undergrad and grad school in four years and walked out with a combined BS and MBA. Took classes every summer to make it happen. I think after graduation, I went back to my parents house and passed out and slept for twenty-three hours straight,” he laughed, clearly recalling a specific memory. “I felt really accomplished when it was over, and even had the job offer already lined up. But I wish I had had more courage to study what I was truly passionate about.

“So after an almost three year long stint at the company and a vested 401k, I decided to take a year off to just, travel the world a bit. I grinded so hard through college I never got the chance to do study abroad, so I guess I wanted to make up for that? I never used to act on impulse or follow my heart, so, that was the goal for this year. To do only that.”

His words struck you differently. This was a whole new side to Johnny that you really weren’t expecting— not that you had a particularly three dimensional view of him to begin with. “And your heart lead you here… to my brother-in-law’s coffee farm?”

He laughed again, trying to hide just how thrilled he was that you were actually engaging in a full on conversation with him. “Well, sort of. My year off started back in February, day before my birthday. Got on a plane and did a few months backpack trip around Asia. I had no clue what would be next, thought maybe Australia, maybe Europe, but when I got off the plane in Chicago to see my mom and regroup on my packing, I decided to go straight from the airport to surprise and bother Jaehyun at his coffee shop. That day I met Yunho. That was a little over six weeks ago. And now I’m here, with you.”

There was something about the way he said that that didn’t sit well in your stomach— with you, like it was a good thing, like he liked it. You didn’t deign him with a response to the end of his story. Like an extension of the current state of your mind, your hands were reaching, feeling around for something, but you were only met with the flat surface of the bottom of the basin.

You looked down to see the last of the metal bowls was empty. Somehow, you’d managed to sort through all twenty pounds of coffee beans. You pulled the face mask down under your chin as you stared at the metal surface for a moment before standing abruptly and turning on your heels.

Confused, Johnny called your name out after you questioningly. “It’s getting late and I’m hungry. You uh, bag up the peaberry and set it aside and then wash out all the metal trays,” you gave him his next set of tasks quickly to make your escape back to the farmhouse to put some distance between the two of you.

A little over an hour later, you’d put together a curry on the stove with some stew meat and a base that included apples, carrots, potatoes, and melted dark chocolate for a more mellow sweet taste to balance it out. You thought about the first time Johnny complimented your cooking when it was just eggs, and how he’d continued to compliment it with every new meal you’d make. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef by any means, thinking that enjoying your go-to recipes would be a more acquired taste, and were in the midst of serving yourself when Johnny came inside with the dog trailing behind him. You didn’t bother saying much, you never did when you’d finished cooking a meal; just a grunt acknowledging his presence and a head nod at the food before you took your bowl and went through the door to go sit on the lanai by yourself. Absent-mindedly, you whistled for the dog to follow you.

Johnny kept to himself that night, eating at the kitchen table, content with looking up out the bay window to see you hand feeding small chunks of meat from your bowl to the dog, even going so far as to pet its head. He shook his head to himself thinking about how you pretended to be so opposed to the dog, and how you still hadn’t given it a name, and smiled as he took another bite.

✧ ✧ ✧

At five weeks, you stopped watching Johnny like a hawk, and started giving him more lengthy tasks that you, quite frankly, just didn’t want to do yourself. Though, if you were being honest, every task you gave him was one you didn’t want to do yourself.

Such as his current one, which was to prep the ground for a new row of sapling fruit trees. You’d walked down from the farmhouse over the hill to the open area next to a row of lemon and guava trees where you’d set him to the task of digging a row of four foot wide, four foot deep holes. The week after next, Jin’s delivery would be a much larger one, and include a number of sapling fruit trees from his family’s farm— rambutans, limes, and mangos, to name a few. You wanted to make sure the holes got dug and the irrigation system set in place properly well in advance.

When you came to a stop at the end of the row of freshly dug holes in the ground you blinked once. Twice. A third time. The sight before you was impossible to comprehend. Because not only was Johnny finishing digging the last of ten massive holes having taken less than three hours to do so, but he had been digging them shirtless.

“What. What?” You asked, staring, eyes wide and brow furrowed.

“Huh?” He asked, looking up from the bottom of the last hole and swishing his head to get his bangs, matted with sweat against his forehead, out of his face. The sun had crested over to this side of the hill now and it was blisteringly hot out. Standing in direct sunlight, doing physical labor, obviously he’d worked up a sweat.

You had to tear your eyes away from the shine on his torso and return them to just his face. “Where the fuck is your shirt?”

He pointed to where a lump of fabric was off to the side next to a water bottle. “It’s fucking hot out, I was dying,” he reasoned.

“You’re hot,” you mumbled under your breath, turning on your heel to give yourself reprieve from the onslaught that was Johnny’s unexpected number of defined abdominal muscles that were usually covered by cotton t shirts.

“What was that?” He called, squinting up into the sun from the bottom of the hole.

“I said, put a god damn shirt on before you come back in my house,” you called back, already wrapping your arms around yourself and heading back to the farmhouse. “And dinner’ll be ready in twenty, so finish up,” you added, trudging off before he could respond.

What you would have seen if you’d turned back around was an open mouthed smile curl across his face, as Johnny hummed to himself at the joy he felt for this, the first time you’d bothered to warn him when dinner would be ready.

✧ ✧ ✧

Ever since you’d seen Johnny shirtless, you’d be restless.

Well, restless was the polite word. The word to better describe what you’d been feeling was… frustrated?

Distracted? Peeved? Worked up?

Horny.

The word you were avoiding was horny.

Wendy had been the one to get you to admit it during your last weekly phone call. You told her about the shirtless incident and the first thing she asked was if you had plans to throw out the washing machine and instead start doing your laundry on Johnny’s abs, which did not help your predicament any further. It was also Wendy who had pointed out that you’d been alone on this farm for almost two months with a dog and a man too pretty for his own good, and despite how he represented everything you were annoyed at in life at the moment, after seeing his half naked figure, it would only be natural for you to have been a little turned on. And a little turned on was exactly where you were— for the last week, you had been going on runs every night to release the excess pent up energy you suddenly had.

The last time you exercised this much you were still in college. Back then you went on hour long runs through the city with your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because it was the only way you weren’t constantly bombarded with an on onslaught of messages from classmates, friends, family, or your on campus job that took up way too much of your time. And now, you found yourself returning to old habits, this time because what, you were too proud to just rub one out like the rest of humanity? (That phrasing, too, was courtesy of your best friend, when she again reminded you of your failure to pack your vibrator.)

After another eight miles up and down the road outside the farm that ran along the island’s coast your legs felt like absolute jello when you finished, but your head was empty enough that you were able to return to the property and exist near Johnny in peace. You walked by the barn on your way up to the farmhouse, sticking your head inside briefly to look for him. You didn’t hear any noise, and didn’t find him at first glance, but didn’t think much of it as you went back inside.

The dog was already in the kitchen, so that should have been your first clue. You opened the fridge and peered inside, pulling out a number of assorted ingredients to make a lemon cream sauce for pasta with chicken.

You set a pot of water to boil, turned the oven on to preheat, and began melting butter, garlic, oil, and a variety of herbs in a sauce pan. That plus the low hum of the overhead fan meant just enough noise that you couldn’t hear the water running from the small shower on the other side of the house, and you didn’t think twice as the heat cast off by the appliances made you feel even stuffier post-run, and you peeled your shirt off your body and rolled the waistband of your shorts down an inch, pressing your bare feet flat against the hardwood flooring to try and get some semblance of cooling relief.

It was only a few moments later, with the water boiling and pasta cooking inside and the chicken already seasoned and in the oven, when you peered over the bubbling sauce pan and dipped the edge of your pinky into the mixture to bring just a taste up to your mouth. Just like you’d hoped, it was light and had a kick of citrus to it from the lemon, but not so much that it was overpowering. You closed your eyes and hummed in appreciation as you licked the sauce off, which, in retrospect, probably sounded far too much like a moan for your own good.

“Jesus fuck—”

And suddenly, you realized you weren’t alone inside the house.

You screamed at first from the shock of being startled by the noise, and then again when it registered in your brain that Johnny was standing in the kitchen, hair dripping wet, chest bare and abdominal muscles just as defined as the last time you’d seen them, face flushed in some sort of embarrassment with a bath towel wrapped around his hips.

Johnny was fresh out of the shower, nearly naked in your kitchen, clutching his clothes balled up in his left hand.

You scream again.

“What are you doing?!” You shrieked out, raising your voice over the dog’s excited barking at the commotion the two of you had begun making.

He stammered for a moment, clearly frozen in place. “I was just! You were gone, and I was done for the day, so I took a shower but I— I forgot my change of clothes in my room and these towels are small and just— Jesus why are you wearing so little clothing?!”

Your fury returned full force at the comment. “Why am I wearing so little clothing? You’re in a towel for fuck’s sake! This is my house, I live here! I should be the one asking you where your clothes are!”

“They’re here, in my hand!” He yelled back, waving the bundle around frantically. “I just said I forgot them when I went to shower!”

Your eyes bugged out of you head as your gaze traveled down, taking in the entirety of the figure before you and— oh.

“Are you… are you hard right now?” You asked in bewilderment.

The way the color drained out of Johnny’s face and the speed with which he moved the bundle of clothing to hold it over the space between his legs answered your question.

“Oh, my god.” Exasperated, you slammed your eyes shut and held your hands up by your sides. “What the fuck, John.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— fuck, shit I made it weird— please don’t get mad, I can totally fix this,” he started spewing apologies, and you heard him take two steps closer to you. “Wait, were you looking at my dick?”

“Ah!” You spat out, turning away from him. His question was valid but you had no intention of acknowledging it. “Out! Get out of my house, go… somewhere else until that goes away or you can, I don’t know, take care of it!” You instantly thought of the implication of your words and then yelled again. “No— don’t— fuck, don’t do that! Jesus for the love of god don’t take care of it while I’m standing here—” you were stammering and beyond flustered. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to someone who had just gotten a fucking boner by looking at you, sweaty in a sports bra, while sucking a cream colored substance off the tip of your pinky?

You exhaled deeply, eyes still closed. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go to your room. I am going to finish cooking my dinner. You will be absolutely silent until you hear me leave. I will be staying at the condo for the next week. You will either ration the leftovers or fend for yourself, I do not care. Got it?” You signed out again, eyes flicking open. Johnny held his bundle of clothes in front of his legs and nodded his head once, not bothering with any comeback before he shuffled to the guest room and shut the door quietly.

It took another twenty minutes for the meat to finish cooking and the dish to be full prepared. How you managed to keep your head empty and shut off your internal monologue during that time, you’ll never know, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You packed two servings into a Tupperware container for yourself before shoving some clothes in a duffle bag and grabbing the keys to the jeep you hated driving. It was only about ten minutes down the road to the condo, but it was almost fifteen miles, so you figured this was the lesser of two evils. You whistled for the dog to follow you, and it was all too excited to jump in the passenger seat of the car. The farmhouse was now dry of liquor, what with Yunho not making good on his promise a month ago and your weekly wine dates with Wendy, but you knew the condo definitely had some spirits stashed somewhere in a cabinet. You were going to need that and a nice hot bath to destress after that encounter.

Meanwhile, Johnny sunk down on to the floor inside the guest room, his back pressed against the door. When he heard the sound of the jeep’s engine turning over, he sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair. There were no better words to describe it: he was truly and utterly fucked.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stayed at the condo only for three days, and did little other than sleep, binge watch some TV since there was better electricity and internet here, and eat your way through slightly stale bags of chips and frost bitten freezer dinners that were months old. Because you couldn’t just open the door and let the dog out to run through the property for whatever exercise or bathroom needs it had, you had to actually walk it with a leash and everything. You paid less attention to how domestic the action of clipping the leash on to the collar you’d found in an unopened delivery package on the kitchen table was, and thought more about how slothful you’d felt over the last 60-odd hours of self isolation, especially after two months of working outdoors every day.

It was childish to keep hiding from Johnny. It’s not like you could prove that he’d gotten hard looking at you, and really, shouldn’t you take it as sort of a compliment? (Well, maybe you wouldn’t go that far.)

It was Monday when you returned to the farm, parking the jeep back by the barn and hip checking the door shut after the dog went running off in search of Johnny. It found him carrying pruned branches of trees down to the area where you burned excess brush, and you could hear the excited sound of his voice at the return of the creature as you walked slowly down the hill towards him.

“I missed you! It’s been so lonely without you, but I guess I’m glad your mommy had you with her, huh?” He cooed at the dog, rubbing its face in his hands after dropping the bundle of branches and flopping its ears from side to side. Hearing Johnny refer to you as a mother, even of the animal, had you grimacing.

“Ew,” you said, making your presence known. He stood up suddenly, possibly just a little embarrassed.

“Oh! You’re uh, you’re back.” You nodded, lips pressed together in a flat line. Your hands were full, carrying two takeout coffees from a shop down near the condo you’d stopped at on the way back. You’d forgotten how much the farm felt like a different planet, a different space in time almost, because of how isolated it felt. The act of ordering a coffee to go rather than making it yourself in the morning was equal parts bewildering and soothing.

You had no idea what compelled you to order an iced americano along with the cortado you’d gotten for yourself. You didn’t really know much about Johnny beyond the one conversation you’d had about how he ended up meeting your brother in law and crashing on the farm with you in the first place. But somehow, ordering the drink had felt right, and you thought of it as a potential peace offering to cut the tension.

“This is yours,” you said plainly after some thought, trying to remove any and all emotion from your tone.

He blinked a few times before taking three steps towards you and reaching his hand out to take the drink. He mumbled a soft thank you and sipped without bothering to ask what was inside.

“You’re just going to take the drink a stranger offers you, no questions asked?”

“Ooh!” His eyes perked up when he tasted the coffee. “I mean, I’ve never questioned any of the food you’ve made me so far, why start now? Besides,” he shrugged, taking another sip, “I trust you.”

You snorted. “That’s a stupid thing to do.”

Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.” He nodded to the paper cup in your hand. “What’s your poison?”

“Cortado,” responded curtly, ignoring his comments that were cutting a bit too deep for ten in the morning.

“Ah, a strong espresso pull with a balance of steam milk and a touch of foam. Nice choice. I can definitely appreciate one, but I’m a little too impatient and drink them too quickly— I think that’s why I love americanos so much, because it lasts a little longer.”

You tilted you head to the side, puzzled. “Wait. You… actually know things about coffee?”

“I mean, yeah,” he laughed, “What do you think I spent three hours talking with Yunho about the day we met? I did my time as a barista in college. Free coffee every shift was hard to pass up when you’re doing almost a double course load every other semester. I’ve always been curious about the growing and roasting process, and I know a lot of people do home roasting as a hobby but I just never made the time to explore it.”

Well, duh, you thought, that actually made sense. “Oh god, and here I’ve been making my lame ass bitter pour over all summer— you know how to pull a shot of espresso then I take it? You’ve seen the La Marzocco on the counter, how come you’ve never used it?”

He pouted his lips out in a flat line and shrugged comically. “Dunno. I mean, I’m a guest and a worker first, and it’s not mine, so, I didn’t wanna make any assumptions. But if this is an open invitation to use it, I’m more than happy to accept.”

You chewed on the inside of your mouth for a moment. You could feel it in the air as the hairs on your arms stood up slightly, goosebumps running down your skin. You hoped in wasn’t too noticeable. Maybe this was it— maybe it really was time to extend an olive branch and have more than half a conversation with him every four days. “It’s a little older and sort of temperamental, but it’s still a good machine. I’ll… show you the quirks tomorrow morning, or whenever you want something to drink,” you offered.

It was then that you discovered this: Johnny was not a great actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve. You figured this to be true because he could barely contain the smile that spread across his face, and the energetic nod he gave, and the mild soft exhale (squeal?) of excitement. You rolled your eyes gently and turned away, drink in hand. “When it cools down later after dinner, I’m roasting tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

You gave him the benefit of not bearing witness to the fist pump he made as you walked away.

Dinner that night was stir fried ground pork with carrots and zucchini from the garden served over rice. It was one of your comfort dishes, easy to make and easy to clean up after, since it used only two pans. As soon as you’d finished eating, this time sitting at the table together with Johnny, he’d cleared the dishes and got to cleaning up right away. You stretched your arms overhead and leaned back in your chair far enough to crack your back slightly with a loud pop.

“Oof, that sounded like it felt good,” he laughed from the sink. You hummed in agreement. “So what’d you do before this? Desk job hunched over a computer like the rest of us?”

“Mmm something like that. You may have been bored out of your mind in business, but I sold my soul years ago to work in advertising.”

“Why does that like, fit?” He asked, turning the water off and drying the pan you’d used for cooking by hand.

“You saying I have no soul?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “Hey, you said it, not me. We’re both just cogs in the machine that is late stage capitalism, I guess.”

You didn’t know how deeply you wanted to get into it with Johnny just yet. Maybe eventually, but, not right now. “Yeah, well, I was just a Project Manager, not like a Copywriter or anything. Did you know Yunho was a staff Art Director before he switched to the coffee business full time? We used to work at the same agency a few years back.”

Johnny snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Ah, that’s right! I remember him saying something about that, made the same jokes about having no soul. You two are a lot alike for not being related by blood.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong; sometimes you wondered if you’d become closer with Yunho that you were with your sister at this point. “Enough about that. If you’re done follow me, it’s probably cool enough to fire up the roaster. I just want to do a test batch of like, five pounds with the regular beans to see how this year’s harvest takes to our standard roast,” you explained, heading to the door and slipping on your sneakers. “Don’t let the dog out, it gets scared from the loud noises and I don’t need it freaking out.”

Johnny dried his hands and followed after you to the barn. You flicked on the lights and went straight for the sink to pull your hair out of your face, wash your hands, and put on a pair of gloves and a mask. Johnny followed your lead, even going so far as to tie up the top layer of his hair on top of his head. “Hey look! It’s like an apple,” he bobbed his head from side to side to make the tiny ponytail move back and forth, and you couldn’t help but snort as you tried to suppress your laughter.

“Dork,” was all you said. You went to the storage racks to pick up one of the sorted burlap bags of beans and hoisted it over your shoulder to carry it to a metal prep table where you carefully opened it and began scooping out the green beans and pouring them into a bowl on a metal scale that had been zeroed out. “So obviously you know that coffee is counted by weight in pounds. That monstrosity,” you jerked your head in the direction of the massive eight foot tall machine in the corner of the room, “Can handle up to twenty-five pounds of beans in the barrel at a time. Because it’s so big, it’s best to not do super small batches, otherwise you risk burning the beans. Since I’m going for five pounds, it’ll be okay, but if I was doing any less I’d use one of the table top roasters, since they have a smaller barrel.” You finished weighing out five pounds and handed the container to him to carry.

You continued explaining the full process of roasting and science behind it as you flipped switches, checked that the exhaust was hooked up properly, and set the dials for the heat and time on the industrial roaster before pulling the door to the funnel open and having Johnny slowly pour the beans inside. “God you’re a fucking giant, I always need a step stool to reach that high,” you commented as he made the reach with ease.

You weren’t kidding when you said the roaster was loud when it was running. Thankfully with the size of the machine and this batch, it was only eleven minutes of the two of you standing just a few feet away in case anything went wrong and you had to hit the emergency stop, holding your hands over your ears to block the sound. Johnny began jokingly exaggerating mouthing something out, and you felt almost like friends as you laughed at his antics. You were never the best at reading lips. Especially not Johnny’s, they were too full and distracting on their own for you to make sense of the mouth shapes. When the machine came to a grinding halt and the noise suddenly stopped, he was still shouting words and his voice echoed around the space in the absence of the noise, “I said, I think you’re— oh, wow, that was fast,” he quickly diverted, catching himself from finishing whatever it was he was about to say.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of trying to pry out of him what he was in the process of saying under the protection of the loud noises. You shook it off mentally and showed him how to remove the beans from the roasting chamber. “So you take them out like this, and then they’re still going to be warm for a while, so it’s best to let them rest for a bit. If you were to brew them right away, the flavor might not be what you’re expecting, so if you wait for them to sit for a few days, you’ll notice a considerable difference in the flavor profile—”

You stopped suddenly, a sound in the distance suddenly registering to you. You left Johnny standing there with the roasted coffee in hand and trailed to the edge of the barn and then you heard it more clearly— the sound of the old rotary phone ringing. “Oh, shit,” you swore and took off running back up to the house. The only person who had the number for the landline other than Wendy were Yunho and your sister. Wendy didn’t call you outside of your Thursday night appointments. You did the math in your head— it was the end of June, your sister’s due date wasn’t til the end of August, but early labor was always something you’d heard about, especially with more than one baby.

Hands shaking, you got to the phone on what could have been the last ring and panted out a greeting of Yunho’s name, already knowing it was him.

“Oh thank god you answered, I’ve been calling for the last twenty minutes, where were you?” He chastised immediately. You felt uneasy at the tone in his voice.

You stammered in response. “I— we were in the barn, I was roasting so I couldn’t hear the phone— what’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Yunho sighed out heavily and was quiet. “She’s going to be okay, but there was a… scare,” you could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I don’t want to not tell you either. She slipped getting out of the shower, landed on her hip. Started having lower abdominal pain right after. We thought maybe it was going to be now, but, she’s fine. The doctors think they were phantom contractions? Whatever they were they’re gone now. The babies are fine, but she’ll most likely be in the hospital until the due date. If she starts experiencing any kind of contractions between now and then, though, they’ll want to induce labor.” You could tell he was still stressed and worried, but you nodded and listened as he explained some of the medical details a bit further. “Anyways, all this to say, the next time I call, it could be to tell you that you’re an auntie.”

From the moment you heard the phone ringing this late at night and calculated that it was almost two in the morning in Chicago, the tightness in your chest had been building. Listening to Yunho speak delicately about your sister’s condition was one thing— you thought it was a sigh of relief when he said that everything was fine, but then it was most certainly not fine when the gravity of his last words really hit you.

“Little Bean are you listening? Is the signal bad? I know the connection isn’t always great—”

You inhaled sharply as the pressure inside came to a head. “Yunho I gotta go,” you gasped out, barely able to make sense of thoughts to get the words out.

Before you could hear his rebuttal you slammed the phone on to the receiver to end the call and covered your face with your hands still in their nylon gloves. Despite standing in an open space, you suddenly felt like the room was spinning and the walls were closing in on you. Out, out, you had to get out—

“Hey, everything okay in here?”

Fuck.

Johnny was standing in the door, a look of concern on his face. You heaved into your hands and choked out a sob, feeling the wetness in your eyes building. No no no, everything was most certainly not okay in here. You shouldn’t have made eye contact, you should have known better, because looking at his face, his stupid perfect face and his genuine care for your wellbeing, it set you free falling over the precipice.

You were spiraling, and hard, and needed to land. It was instinctual, the way you cried out and ran pushing past him before breaking into an all out sprint down the hill to the fruit trees. Your legs barely kept up with the velocity of running at a decline, stopping short of tumbling and falling forward. The only thing that you knew to help this, the thing that had worked for you in the past, and you raced through the grove of trees for the larger one at the very end. It was one of the older trees, well mature and established with its root system, so you could always expect it to produce fruit.

But you’d harvested a large amount of the fruit in the last few weeks from the lower branches, and the only remaining fruit that would be ripe enough for your purposes was on the higher branches just out of reach. Over the sound of your pained sobs, you couldn’t hear Johnny’s approach or him asking what was wrong, your one track mind just trying desperately to jump and reach, fingertips barely brushing on the fruit you were reaching for.

“Hey hey, calm down, what are you—” he started.

“Shut up! Just shut— don’t tell— don’t tell me calm— calm—” you couldn’t make the words make sense, in your head you were screaming don’t tell me to calm down, but the act of translating that into words on your tongue was downright Herculean right now, it just wasn’t happening. Your knees began wobbling and standing too started feeling impossible. The tightness in your chest had expanded to reach your back, and though you were clearly still getting air by the fact that you hadn’t passed out yet, you felt like you weren’t breathing at all. You were crying outright now, tears wet and hot and painful as the sobs escaped your throat.

It didn’t take a genius to figure that you were trying to reach a fruit on a branch just above your wingspan. Johnny placed one large hand against your back gently and reached all the way up, fingers wrapping around what he assumed was the object of your fixation, before twisting and pulling to release it from the tree. “Hey,” he said softly, “This what you need?”

As soon as you made sense of the object in front of you you seized it from his hands, biting directly through the rind of the lemon. A muffled sob came out as your knees buckled and you sank to the ground. The bitter rush of citrus did part of its job, and brought your consciousness back down to earth. But your breathing didn’t steady, and your heart was still pounding, and the tears were still falling.

It wasn’t working, your grounding technique; not like it had the previous times, like the night you’d first gotten the phone call from Yunho saying they weren’t coming, and not like the time you bit into a lemon in the kitchen at work after first getting the phone call that your sister was pregnant, and even the time before that when she told you she and Yunho were moving, or when Yunho had asked you if he could marry your sister. If you were more with it, you would have thought for a moment longer about how all of your largest panic attacks of the last several years seemed to be linked to things about Yunho and your sister. Biting into a whole lemon had been your go-to for years, and suddenly, it wasn’t working.

“Fuck!” You cried out, spitting the lemon into your palms, “Fuck fuck fuck! Why isn’t it— why isn’t it working?!” Your words were absolutely frantic, and you were yelling at yourself more than your companion who, quite frankly, you’d forgotten was even there.

Until you felt a shadow pass over you in the moonlight and a pair of arms enveloping you in an embrace.

The top of your head was pressed against his chest and his hands found their way to the planes of your back and began rubbing soft circles. Softly he tutted out a shushing noise, voice barely above a whisper, steady. “Come on, let it out, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re not alone,” he said calmly, “You’re gonna get through it. Try to take a deep breath, that’s good now hold it as long as you can— okay, that’s okay, try again, try to hold on to it and let it out slowly this time.”

You’d never had anyone physically with you and help you through a panic attack before. You’d had them around people in the past, but no one had ever made a move to help you through it— not like this, not like him, not like he was doing right now by attempting to guide your breathing. The one time you had one in front on Wendy, you’d locked yourself in the bathroom and refused to answer her while you came down, and she never pressed you about it afterwards.

You had no idea how much time passed as Johnny held you in his arms, keeping a steady rhythm of his palms on your back and letting you cry it out into the fabric of his shirt, your hands wringing the material so strongly you thought you’d tear holes where your nails were.

One hand traveled to the back of your head and he stroked that too. “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” he said again.

After a longer period of silence, your ears stopped ringing and you could finally make out the chirping of the crickets in the night. You sniffled and rubbed the last of the trails the tears had left on your cheeks into his shirt, mumbling an apology into it.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, keeping his voice low, almost as if he was afraid he’d scare you off if he raised it any higher. “I mean— haha, don’t apologize. It’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll wash out. If it doesn’t, it’s just a tee shirt, I can always buy another.” His tone was even paced and calm, and in pressing your ear against his chest you could hear the reverberations as he spoke.

The humid summer air was heavy as usual, even this late at night. You don’t know how long you sat there in silence, wrapped in Johnny’s arms listening to his heartbeat, but eventually you acknowledged that your heart was beating in time with his. Whether you liked it or not, he had been the thing to ground you, and not a stupid fucking lemon.

You shifted slightly, making a move to stand, but Johnny stopped you. “Whoa whoa, hang on lemme get ready— okay, hold on to my shoulders, that’s it.” Your fingers dug into his arms as he adjusted his legs and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back and stood up, taking you with him.

“Shit,” you mumbled out, head rushing at the quick movement and the realization that your legs were still bent over his arm, and Johnny was now carrying you. “Hey, heavy,” your words were still soft.

“Mmm, nah, nothing I can’t handle,” his response was easy, dismissive of your complaint, but not in a bad way. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but— anxiety? Panic attack?” You sucked in a breath at the word. You hated that word. That word made you feel weak, even if it was exactly what this was. You dug your nails into his skin slightly on a reflex of bracing yourself, not with this intention of inflicting damage. “Got it. I get it,” he had approached the house and walked to the door, reaching for the handle with the hand under your knees. “I’ve had a few myself. Not recently, but back in college, maybe two or three? Don’t think they were ever as strong as that, though. I tried the lemon trick once, it actually worked pretty well for me. Didn’t make the next time I did a tequila shot all that fun though, couldn’t enjoy citrus for at least a month after that.” His soft laughter shook his chest and you leaned in further. Listening to his voice was comforting. It was keeping you steady. It made you feel safe, and in this moment, you were too tired to think about how you probably should have hated that. “Think you could swallow some water? Rehydrating is important.”

Your head nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna put you down now.” He used his foot to push one of the chairs away from the table and set you down on to the seat gently. The dog was immediately at your knees, whining lowly and attempting to give as many kisses as you’d accept. “Here,” he said gently, crouching down in front of you and holding a glass out. “Drink what can, but not too fast. There you go, that’s it,” his large hand clasped over your knee, thumb rubbing circles on the side. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” you rasped out, voice raw from all the crying earlier.

Johnny smiled softly. “Good, that’s good. Okay, I think you need to get to bed, yeah? Or do you wanna take a shower or something first?” You shook your head. “Okay, just washed your face then?” You nodded. Your conscious monologue was returning, but bringing words from your mind to your mouth was still proving difficult. Johnny didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered you his hand. “Need help getting up?”

You answered by gripping on to his hand and using his shoulders to help you stand up. Johnny walked you to your room, holding his arm out for you as a guide. You were able to bear weight on your feet now, and though your steps were slow, you made it to the bathroom to wash your face and and change into sleepwear. Johnny waited by the door, averting his eyes for privacy for you, and returned to your side to help you into bed.

When he leaned over you to pull the sheets up, you reached for his wrist and asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

His face went blank before it softened into a smile. “Because. I told you earlier, didn’t I? You’re a good person. Should be simple as that, yeah?”

You didn’t have a response for him, only shifting deeper into the pillows. He turned off the light and retreated to the door frame. “Try and get some rest. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Your head managed a nod, and Johnny finally left, leaving the door to your room slightly ajar. You listened for the sounds of him milling about the house, his footsteps softly shuffling against the floorboards, a few mumbled words to the dog that followed at his heels, until you finally fell asleep.

When you dreamed that night, you dreamt of him, the sound of his voice, and the way your blood felt on fire whenever he looked at you and smiled.

✧ ✧ ✧

Johnny never asked you about the panic attack.

He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t ask what caused it, he didn’t even allude to it in any conversation over the next week. The next day he was just a little bit more gentle with you with the tone and volume of his speaking voice, but when you showed no signs of still be affected from the previous night, he let it go and didn’t bother you about it.

You couldn’t tell if you loved him or hated him for it.

Confusion on your feelings aside, as June came to a close and the morning of July 3rd came, you woke up to the sound of the espresso machine running. Johnny had very quickly proven that he was worth his salt as a barista, even though it had been several years, and had a very nice shot pull. He even figured out the steamer, which was the most finicky part of the machine, and had been making you cortados every morning. That’s what you were sipping now from a metal camper mug, as you walked with him to the shed.

“I think that all that’s left is nailing down that last sheet of roofing and then we’re done,” he hummed cheerfully, inspecting the building. It looked brand new, a marked improvement from the broken windows and bleached paint job it had sported two months ago.

Two months. Was that really how long he’d been here? You didn’t want to think too much about it, about how those two months gone meant you had reached the half way point, and that there were about two months left.

Two months…

“We should celebrate,” he said suddenly, and you looked up puzzled.

“We?”

“Sure!” He exclaimed, “I had no idea what I was doing. I just did what you told me to. This was one of the biggest projects for the summer, right? And plus, not that I care too much for the holiday, but won’t there be fireworks and stuff for the Fourth? Come on, this house has been dry for weeks, let’s go get some booze and live a little, huh?” He prodded your side with his elbow and began needling at you, saying huh, huh, huh over and over until you groaned and relented.

“Fiiiiiine, let’s go before the stores get crowded when everyone realizes everything’s gonna be closed tomorrow.”

The dog was less than pleased that you’d sent it back into the house when you picked up the keys to the jeep. Usually you took it with you, but this time you decided against it, since you weren’t sure how the liquor store would feel with you bringing the stray dog off leash into the store with you.

“All you, big guy,” you said to Johnny as you tossed the car keys at him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to drive first?” He quipped back quickly while walking to the driver’s side.

“Nah,” you shrugged comically, hoisting yourself up by the frame of the car. You buckled yourself in and watched as he did the same and adjusted the mirrors for his height. “Besides,” you looked down to inspect your fingernails as if they were the most fascinating thing on the planet, “I trust you, or whatever.”

“Bit of a stupid thing to do, but alright,” he smiled, echoing your words back at you. “Kidding, I’m an excellent driver. Alright, co-pilot! You have the most sacred duty bestowed upon you—”

“Navigation?”

“No, music selection, duh,” he scoffed and handed you the aux cord and pulled out a cell phone you’d never seen him hold before. You stared at the device as he unlocked it and pulled up his music library. Johnny noticed your surprised expression out of the corner of his eye. “What, it’s not like I have a use for it out here. Your wifi sucks and I’m not about to rack up a huge cell phone bill, so it stays off in my duffle bag most of the time. Anyways, this is a test! Pick whatever your heart desires.” The smirk on his face was beyond mischievous as he handed it to you.

You sighed and settled into the seat and began scrolling. What to pick, what to pick…

Surprisingly, there was a decent number of songs you recognized, and one album in particular you were a fan of. You scrolled down the track listing to about the half way point and pressed play.

The sounds of The Killers and the familiar guitar chords that were practically sewn into your DNA began to filter through the speakers. Johnny smiled and started clapping as the car reached the bottom of the driveway and he flipped on the turn signal. “Oh my god, Mr. Brightside, excellent choice! Okay, you passed the first test. But do you know the words?” He teased.

You gasped in feigned offense as the lyrics came to the chorus, and as he accelerated up to speed you began to belt the words out as loud as you could manage. For once you weren’t thinking about how you hated that the jeep had no top while the wind whipped past you on all sides as Johnny sped down the highway. As the song played, the magic high of belting the words to something fifteen years old that were still imprinted in your brain didn’t seem to wear off like you’d expected it to.

“Alright, chop chop what’s next maestro!” He called over the sound of the wind as the song came to a close. You already had something queued up, something a little more recent, and you smiled as the words to the next song began filtering through the speakers, letting the music carry the drive and not belting along with it this time. You tried to not think too deeply about the lyrics of the chorus as it played.

'Cause you're the last of a dying breed Write our names in the wet concrete I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me? I'm here in search of your glory There's been a million before me That ultra-kind of love You never walk away from You're just the last of the real ones

As the bridge played and you neared your destination, Johnny tilted his head towards you while keeping his eyes on the road. “Growing up, it was like, a badge of honor as a Chicago kid to have gone to a Fall Out Boy show when they still played the smaller clubs. I snuck into one when I was 16— it was an 18 and over show— felt like I was hot shit when I got away with it.”

“Don’t know why, but you don’t strike me as a Fall Out Boy fan,” you admitted. From your scroll through his music library, you saw most of their discography saved to his phone.

“Hey, I had my embarrassing wannabe emo phase too.”

“Had?” You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing. Johnny didn’t give a response to that one, and as another Fall Out Boy song played through the speakers you let yourself rest in a comfortable lack of conversation, instead sharing the music with him as he drove. It only took to the end of that third song to reach your destination and based on how he handled the drive and parking, true to his word Johnny was an excellent driver.

Johnny followed you closely once inside, his eyes scanning up and down the shelves of the tiny liquor store before he reaches and picks up a six pack of pilsner. “You ever try this one?”

Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I don’t do beer.”

Johnny blinks twice in response and plops the six pack back down on the shelf. “Noted. What do you drink?”

“If I’m picking?” He nods. “I’m a slut for rosé or champagne. Any sparkling wine, really, it makes me feel fancy and you get to turn basic days into little celebrations.” You follow him as he walks down the aisle to where the selection of wine was shelved and starts looking through the options. “Hang on, you’re not gonna grill me about the beer thing?”

“You say that like your friends usually give you shit for it.”

You crossed your arms and shuffle your feet underneath you. “Well, yeah. Usually.”

“Then I would say,” he trails off for a moment, bending and squatting to see a label on a lower shelf before picking up two bottles of the same brand, “You need new friends. Or that your current ones need to learn boundaries, take your pick. How’s this look for one option? Since this is a celebration and all,” he says with a wink.

Leaning forward, you study the label on the bottle for a moment before nodding in approval. You agree to his point that since they were 15% off if you bought six or more bottles, it only made sense to buy more, and besides, “It’s not like you won’t drink them eventually when you’re on the phone with Wendy.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that. “How do you know her name?”

“I’m quiet not deaf, and you’re louder than you think you are,” he says matter-of-factly before heading to the cashier to pay for your selection. You bite your tongue then, hoping to whatever deity was watching you (and probably laughing) that he’d overheard one of the conversations that wasn’t about Wendy insisting you should bone him.

Johnny picks the music on the way back, opting for some Bleachers and Paramore now that he knew at least part of your music taste and how it aligned with his.

Your new selection of wine goes into the fridge as soon as you get home, and Johnny heads to the shed with a ladder in hand to climb on top and finish nailing down the roofing. You opt to help with this task, spotting from the ground and continuously yelling for him to ‘be careful’ and ‘you better not fall and break your neck while I’m watching’. It takes a little over an hour, and it’s late afternoon when he finishes, but when you climb the ladder yourself as he holds it steady from the ground to inspect his handiwork you have to say you’re impressed.

“You sure you never did construction work before? You’ve got shockingly good craftsmanship for a newbie.”

“My dad’s pretty self sufficient so he was always doing the handiwork around the house. Picked stuff up here and there from him growing up, but anything I didn’t know I could just look up on the internet.” You shoot him a pointed look. “What! I said your wifi was shitty not that I didn’t use it every now and again. There’s a YouTube tutorial for everything these days.”

Johnny insisted on cleaning up the last of the debris on his own while you worked on dinner— another pasta dish, orecchiette broccoli rabe, and while that was cooking you boil a pint of blackberries with water and sugar to make a flavored simple syrup. Since you were celebrating tonight, it only felt right to put in a little extra effort even to the drinks of choice. Kir Royales were typically made with a blackcurrant liquor, but it was a niche product you hadn’t found in the store, so the syrup and a slice of lemon for garnish would have to do.

While you waited for Johnny to finish up and take his shower (after the last time, you gave him plenty of space out of an abundance of caution whenever he showered), you started rummaging through the pantry cabinets and making sense of the dry ingredients you had on hand. You had time to kill, why not make a dessert with it?

You hadn’t talked about it much with Johnny, but you actually did enjoy cooking and baking. Something about spending time and energy making something and having someone consume it and tell you they liked made you feel good. You still remember the first time you made breakfast for a hungover Wendy in college and she raved about it for days, though you were pretty sure back then it was because the carbs soaked up the remaining alcohol in her system and stopped her from puking.

Dinner was finished when Johnny finally came out of the shower, this time fully clothed and his hair more dry. You explained that you’d gotten bored and made cookie dough but the oven hadn’t finished pre-heating yet so nothing was baked.

“Fuck it, cookie dough is always better than the cookies themselves,” he shrugged.

“But salmonella—”

Johnny held up a hand jokingly as he stopped your interjection and turned off the oven. “Still convinced that’s a myth parents made up to stop kids from actually enjoying childhood. Plus it’s hot as balls, chill the dough while we eat and then it’ll be even better after. Plus, you haven’t poisoned either of us yet, I think your track record is pretty good so far.” (There he went again, referring to you and him as an ‘us’.)

So you did just that, putting the cookie dough into the fridge and taking your dinner outside with the cocktails you’d made. You didn’t have any wine glasses here at the farm house— after breaking one stemmed glass during your first phone call with Wendy you’d moved the rest to the condo and replaced the drink ware with mason jars because the clean up was too annoying. Plus, you didn’t want to risk the dog stepping on stray shards of thin glass and getting them stuck in the pads of its paws. (You were still decidedly apathetic towards it, but that didn’t mean you were cruel).

So it was in the wide mouth Kerr jars that you poured your blackberry syrup and a half a bottle of champagne, after a comical exchange of Johnny insisting he wasn’t scared of the pop! that corks made coming out of pressurized bottles and the yelp he let out anyways when it happened as expected. The lemon slice garnish was more of an aesthetic touch than anything but you liked it nonetheless.When Johnny pulls out his phone for the second time that day and insists on playing music and making a dramatic toast before you could drink, you could only laugh and agree.

“To the best Boss I’ve ever had,” he said with a raised glass, “Even though you used me for cheap labor and to do all the hard shit.”

“Rude! I cook every day, look at all the chances I’ve had to poison you and how many times have I done it? Absolutely none because I am a saint and you know it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the music, the low hum of crickets, the starry night sky, or the summer heat that did it, but time flowed so easily, and so did the conversation and teasing banter. Over the course of one meal you’d exchanged more words with Johnny than you had in the whole two months you’d known each other. Two hours later and you’d finished all the dinner (of course there were no leftovers, Johnny was still Johnny, but the amount of manual labor he did in a day made sense of how much he usually ate, you’d come to realize). The bowl of cookie dough was now sitting on the step of the lanai and you and Johnny were side by side on the deck, looking out over the farm and taking the occasional spoonful of dough into your mouths. He was right— the dough did taste better than the baked cookies probably would have, especially after it had chilled for a bit. With the way the stars and moon were hung in the cloudless sky, you could see the soft glow of their reflection in the water beyond the highway and the cliff leading to the beach.

“You ever go down to the shore?” He asks suddenly, and it feels out of nowhere and like he’s inside your head because how else would he have known you were just thinking about the ocean? But then you register that Andrew McMahon’s voice has just crooned something about Venice Beach and the California summer in the music that had still been playing through the speakers of Johnny’s phone.

You hummed for a moment before answering. “Not really. I should make more time for it, but I rarely ever leave the farm, as you probably noticed. I know this place is paradise for so many people, the vacation destination on a lot of bucket lists, but I think my… circumstances made me bitter towards the island, conceptually speaking anyways.” You watched the water with a bit more focus as a few waves crested, but you couldn’t see enough of the shore to see them actually crash. “I know I don’t talk about it much but, I needed a break from my work too. That’s… part of the reason I’m here, why I was waiting for my sister and Yunho to come out. It’s a much less interesting story than yours, so I won’t bore you with the details,” you wanted to reroute the subject before any questions started getting asked, but deep down you knew Johnny wasn’t going to press you for anything you weren’t ready to share. He’d figured that much out about you anyways.

“Anyways, maybe you’re on to something, Seo. Maybe I should take some time to actually relax a bit, seeing as now that I’ve tricked you into finishing the most difficult and time consuming of the summer projects Yunho had planned,” you stuck your tongue out between your teeth jokingly in an effort to mask the vulnerability you’d briefly shown.

Johnny took the hint and changed the subject. “The Killers, Bleachers, Paramore, Fall Out Boy… not saying I don’t like your taste in music, but I’m surprised it’s your picks were so astoundingly pop-punk-rock. Woulda taken you for a—”

“If you finish that sentence by saying ‘country kinda girl’ I’m locking you out tonight and taking the cookie dough with me,” you warned.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, you strike me as too high strung to enjoy country. Like it’s typically too slow for your tastes, or something like that.”

“Oh I’m obnoxious about my taste in media, if you couldn’t already tell. I’ve listened to mostly the same artists for the last ten years. In high school I was that kid that thought making it known that I ‘didn’t listen to the radio pop main stream’ was a personality trait, whatever that meant.”

“Oooh, so edgy and mysterious, did she used to cut her own bangs too?” He giggled into his mason jar, taking another sip.

“Nooo, that was only one time and I swear it was on a dare and not because of a break up!” You jokingly wailed out, throwing your head back in exaggeration. “Although I do regularly trim Wendy’s bangs for her because she can’t be trusted with sharp objects. Knives, needles, scissors, none of it, girl’s a total klutz,” you took another sip and uncorked the bottle again to refill your jar. You held the remainder up for Johnny to see, silently asking if he wanted a top off to finish the last of the second bottle you’d opened.

Johnny was a big guy— tall and muscular, you were sure it would take him a bit more than a bottle or two of shared champagne to get him tipsy. That’s why you didn’t think too much of it as he stared into the reinvigorated fizzing bubbles as he quietly said, “I’d like to meet her someday. Wendy, I mean— you talk about her so fondly, she seems like a great person. Like she’s good for you in your life.”

Why did you feel a little uneasy at the way he spoke about Wendy? He had no idea what she looked like, it was only from the stories you’d been telling that he knew anything about her. And it wasn’t even the real her, it was just her as she existed to you, so what was there to be uneasy about? You were overthinking again, so you had to come up with an answer to fill the silence you’d created— “Yeah well, Wendy’s sick of dick, she’s very bisexual and I’m pretty sure she’s head over heels in love with this Joohyun she started seeing recently, she’s just too much of a chicken shit to tell her how she feels,” you hid behind you glass and drank deeply, not minding as the floating slice of alcohol soaked lemon rested against your nose.

“Sounds familiar,” Johnny said quietly. “I… can relate, I think,” he mumbled out, and you glanced over in time to see him place his now-empty cup on the wood beside him. “Sometimes you just feel the way you do and you don’t really have a reason for why, but you can’t even put it to words to the person it matters to.”

This time when your breath caught in your throat, it wasn’t because of a mounting attack, but in anticipation of what Johnny would do next. The space between you had slowly waned as you’d been drinking, your bodies inching closer to each other without you even realizing it, almost like the way the moon pulled the tide to the shore over and over again. When your eyes traveled from where his hand was pressed into the deck flooring up to meet his hooded gaze, you don’t really know what you were expecting, but Johnny’s parted lips shining slightly (probably from that last drink of wine) was not it.

You knew this feeling. This was when you were supposed to lean in, right? That’s how this usually went. Your hand shifted closer towards his for a moment and then pulled back, and the end joint of Johnny’s fingers flexed as he pressed his fingertips into the deck.

You didn’t lean in. Your heart was hammering in your chest far too loud for you to be able to do so; instead, you look away, his eye and his lips and his face and his everything suddenly too much, and your turned your cheek to him instead.

Instead, he leaned in, and for just a brief moment the crickets stopped chirping, the distant ocean stopped moving, the music stopped playing, and your heart stopped beating as Johnny’s perfectly pouty lips pressed against your cheek, and then your temple, and then your throat. And then his head tilted down and his nose brushed against your skin delicately, leaving a trial of burning in its wake, and time didn’t start turning again until the snort of his laughter broke the silence and he fell into your shoulder in a giggle fit.

It took all of your patience and self control to make your lungs continue to function as you listened to Johnny giggle so much he stopped making sounds until he was spewing out between fits of laughter ‘The bubbles make everything funny, why is everything funny with bubbles?’

‘Why indeed’, you wondered silently, letting the clearly tipsy Johnny rest his head on your shoulder as he continued his giggle fits, stroking the palm of your hand against his back as he’d first done for you under far different circumstances, trying to not think about how much faster your heart was beating while doing so, and how if your accelerated heart rate was from his proximity to you, you didn’t mind.

How long did you stay like that, in such a familiar embrace with Johnny? Long enough, it seemed, for the playlist on his phone to come to an end and for him to start dozing off while resting against you, his light snores the thing that finally made you disturb him so you could go back inside. It was late anyways, nearing midnight you said softly and you tried to wake him gently—

A surprisingly loud boom shook the sky followed by a burst of light and color. Immediately the dog inside woke up and started barking, and Johnny bolted upright, eyes darting around in search of the source of the noise that had disturbed his snoozing.

“Fireworks,” you breathed out, more to yourself than to him. “Guess it’s midnight already.” Johnny didn’t say much, but his eyes twinkled as he watched in earnest as a few more went off before you tugged on his sleeve and insisted that he needed to make his way to bed and sleep. There were sure to be more tomorrow, and he could watch them then.

You didn’t sleep for hours that night. After helping the mildly intoxicated Johnny to his bed, you sat on the floor of your room, knees pulled into your chest and a hand laying flat against your cheek where he’d planted his trail of kisses. “He was just drunk, he’s just a flirty drunk, that didn’t mean anything,” you repeated to yourself over and over again.

But something about the way Johnny’s lips felt against the apples of your cheek and the hollow of your throat when he’d been nuzzling against you stayed with you all night long, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a flame where your heart lived. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and inhaled deeply, breath shuddering on the exhale.

Against all your hopes and intensions, Johnny Seo had slowly chipped his way through your armor and into your heart.

You had to get him out. Fast.

tbc.

—

author’s note | Me: this first part is gonna be like, I dunno, 5k? 6k? Also me: writes 19,000 words. We call this ✨processing your own trauma through writing as an outlet✨ Originally this was going to be one really long one shot and then I decided to split it up for ratings purposes because I am a thirsty whore for Youngho. The ending is rushed but honestly I was so sick of editing and overthinking this lmaooo. No I have not spent a summer living in Kona working on a coffee farm. Most of my coffee knowledge is second hand from the time my brother in law bought a coffee farm and started a roasting business because my sister dared him to by saying “do it you won’t” (an exact quote I shit you not). There’s more to this story and uh I dunno I’ll maybe post it eventually if people don’t hate this one *shrugs*

#Johnny x Reader #Johnny Seo #Johnny Seo x Reader #Johnny Seo fanfic #NCT fanfic #NCT Fluff #NCT Angst #kinda lmao i dunno leave me alone #panic attack tw #mental health issues tw #anxiety tw #idk if i'm even happy with this or if I'm gonna go back and edit that last 5k i wrote tongiht w/e #shrugs this is fine #johnny: bitter brews #swamp witch writes

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nastybuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky X Reader

Summary: During a summer away from school, you head back home to the small town you grew up in. You quickly resume your job on the Farm where you spent most of your teen years, reconnecting with people you thought you might never see again.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: I like this idea. I like this title. I just like it. I hope y’all do too.

~*~

Student loans most certainly don't pay themselves.

That's something people tell you but doesn't fully hit until you see the big bills in the mail. Instead of dwelling, you climb into your rusty old car and set out down the highway, heading back to the town where you grew up.

Your parents have been bugging you about coming to visit, and the town always has job openings somewhere, easily the best place to go to rake in some extra cash during your summer break.

And that's how you find yourself here, standing outside the big white farmhouse that's something straight out of a magazine.

Your dad dropped you off at the start of the long circular driveway, leaving you to walk to the front of the house in your old farm boots.

As you approach the house, you feel yourself getting nervous as you see the figure sitting on the yellow porch swing.

"My Goodness! (Y/n) (Y/l/n)! Is that you?!" You smile at the familiar voice, hurrying towards her as she gets off the swing and clomps down the stairs towards you.

"You've grown so much! We've missed you 'round these parts!" She exclaims, throwing her arms around you as soon as you're in range.

"Hi, Winnie! I've missed you too." She keeps an arm around your shoulders and walks you up the step and through the blue front door of the huge house. You toe off your boots and she does the same, not bothering to put them away properly in her haste to get you comfortable.

"I'll get you something to drink. We've got so much to catch up on. And the boys! Oh! They'll be dyin' to see ya. James 'specially. He just ain’t been the same since you left for the big city. But look at you now, a grown woman, a big city girl." You grin, eyes flittering around the house.

It's changed over the years, but it hasn't lost its homey feel. The walls of the entryway are the same yellow-orange as they always were, the floors, the same deep oak.

You take a left, through the dining room and past George's office, through the kitchen and finally into the sitting room.

You take your time, admiring all the renovations they've done in the years since you've last been in here.

All the cupboards and counters are a bright pristine white, but the beams across the ceiling give it a rustic feel. The appliances are all stainless steel, and the hardwoods have been darkened since the last time you saw them.

Winnifred pulls you to sit down on the soft beige couch across from the windows, smiling brightly at you.

"I'll grab you a drink. Wanda squeezed some orange juice fresh this mornin' so we're in for a treat." She pours you a glass and you smile as she hands it to you, her hospitality warming your heart.

"How's the big city treated ya?" She asks, plopping down on the couch next to you. You take a sip of orange juice then sigh.

"It's... different than out here, that's for sure. The people mind their business and they don't stick out for each other the way we do. But I think that that's helped me really grow and become independent." She nods, smiling at you.

"Look at you. Always know you'd be somethin' great. And here you are, on the road to being a doctor. Hope you don't forget us while you're out there savin' lives." You shake your head.

"I could never forget you guys. This place is my home. You guys... you're my family." She nods, "you're darn right."

"That's uh... one of the reasons why I cam here, actually. Ma was tellin' me that you guys are looking for some extra help over the summer. I may not be as good as I was before, but I still remember how to take care of the animals and run the place."

"Oh Darlin', you'll always have a job here, whenever you want. You can help with paperwork or you can help the boys with the animals if you want." You nod, mulling over your options.

"Or if you're really up for it, you can help with both." You nod, liking that idea more than just picking one.

"And you'll stay here during the week. It's gonna be early mornings and late nights, just like before. But weekends you can go home to your family." You nod again, taking another sip of your juice.

"You'll be staying in the guest house with James. I hope you don't mind. There are two bedrooms so you won't have to bunk together. He got it done all nice and pretty, I think you'll really like it. And if you don't, I'll see if Wanda'll stay with him for the summer." You wave her off.

"I'm sure James and I will be fine to live under one roof for the summer." She nods with a grin, happy that you're back home where, in her opinion, you belong.

"The boys should be finished in the field soon. I'm sure they're hungry. Wanna help me whip up some lunch? It's been a while since we've had those grilled sandwiches you make. I'm sure the boys'll love 'em as a surprise." You nod, getting up off the couch and walking into the kitchen, falling into the familiar task of making lunch for the farm boys.

You and Winifred talk about the growth of the farm and about the new girl, Wanda. "Her family's from Europe. She moved out here for school but got a job working on the farm. Decided to take a break from school and work with us for a couple years before going back to school. Isn't that so lovely? Everyone who gets a taste of this ol' farm just can't stay away. You're no exception, are ya?"

You shake your head, a grin on your lips as you plate the sandwiches.

Boots trudge against the stone by the door and your heart races in your chest. The door swings open and the conversation the two men are having comes to a halt when they see not one, but two pairs of women's boots at the door.

"Ma?" a familiar voice calls out. You hear them taking off their own shoes and then they're coming through the dining room and into the kitchen.

You're not sure what you were expecting, but this certainly isn't it.

The two scrawny boys you used to play on the tire swing with have grown into huge men. Steve, the boy that used to be so sick all the time, with nothing but skin on his bones, is easily six feet tall and over two hundred pounds of pure muscle. His head nearly hits the top of the doorway when he walks into the kitchen, eyes as blue as ever. And the accentuate his muscles, he's wearing a skintight blue shirt that shows off every single curve and crevice in his body.

His mouth opens in shock when he sees you before a grin spreads over his pink lips. He rushes to you and engulfs you in a tight and sweaty bear hug, squeezing you tight in his arms.

You giggle uncontrollably as he spins you around.

"God, it's been too long! What're you doing 'round these parts?" He sets you down on your feet, hands on your shoulders as he drinks in your figure.

Winifred answers before you have a chance to, and you take the moment to look around Steve's arm to where you know James is standing.

Standing in place of the lanky boy who stole your first kiss is a grown man. His hair's trimmed and slicked back, and he's got a short scruffy beard growing. He's almost as tall as Steve is, still several inches taller than you, and even thicker, biceps straining against the tight fabric of his flannel shirt. His thighs are sinfully thick in his dirty jeans, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

You can't help but devour his figure with your eyes, greedy to drink up every detail of him.

He does the same to you, pink bottom lip tucked between his white teeth as his eyes rake over your figure.

From the tight white tank top that hugs your chest, to those damn jeans that hug your legs so perfectly, to the mismatched socks on your feet. He's missed you, that much he'll admit.

"...I just hope that the two of you get along like you used to." The two of you tune back in, turning to his mother as she continues speaking, oblivious to the moment you just shared.

"Wait what?" He asks, voice deep. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, and it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You and (Y/n). I figured that you've got plenty of room for her to bunk with you. And with Wanda stayin' with us, there ain't a lotta room for her to stay." You glance over at the man in question and he swallows hard before nodding.

"Yeah. Of course." Winifred claps her hands together happily.

"Perfect. Now, you boys must be hungry. Eat up!" Steve grabs his plate of sandwiches and sits down on the couch, sighing and relaxing with ease. Bucky, on the other hand, doesn't move as quickly. He waits until his mother leaves to turn something on the tv before moving, and when he does he only moves towards you.

You lean back instinctively, inhaling sharply when you find yourself pinned against the countertop behind you.

He looks you up and down again, nodding to himself. He's so close that you can feel the familiar warmth of him through the few inches separating the two of you. He leans closer for a moment, lips just hovering over yours, and your eyelids fall closed. Until he pulls back.

A soft whine falls from your lips and he chuckles quietly, grabbing his plate of food and plopping down next to Steve on the couch. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before heading into the living room and sitting by Winnie.

"I suppose you'll need to go home and pick up some of your things, won't ya?" You nod, taking another sip of your orange juice. "I'll have my folks bring it over later on. If that's alright with you." She nods, grinning happily.

"You know what? I say we have a barbecue tonight. Invite your folks over, some old friends. Celebrate you comin' home for the summer." She's up and hurrying away before you can even say no.

It's silent for a painfully long moment before Steve clears his throat and speaks.

"So how's school been?" You almost roll your eyes. Same old awkward Steve.

"It's been good. I uh... finished my second year of med school. I've just got two years of clinical experience to go then I start my residency." He nods, leaning forward in interest.

"And you've chosen your specialty?" You nod, smiling as you talk about your passion.

"I'm going into Obstetrics and Gynaecology. So for my clinical I'll be pretty much just shadowing some doctors, delivering babies, helping and observing in the OR. Then it's a minimum of five years in residency before I can start my own practice." He nods thoughtfully, smiling suddenly.

"So in two years we'll be callin' ya 'Doctor (Y/l/n)'?" You nod, that fact scaring you more than it probably should.

"Yup." He shakes his head in disbelief. "You know, I have a hard time believing that the same girl who went to rodeo's with me and this punk when we were skinny little nobodies... can't believe she's a grown woman now, on her way to becoming a doctor. I've gotta say, (Y/n), I'm so proud of you. You've got no idea." Your eyes prickle and you blink furiously.

"Thank you, Steve. It feels so... surreal. Coming back here after all these years... it feels like nothing's really changed." He smiles, nodding.

"Yeah. Nothing's changed at all," Bucky mumbles, eyes on you. You look down at your lap, unsure what he means by that.

~*~

The first week of helping on the farm is exactly how you remembered it. Early mornings, heavy lifting, and the stench of animal crap that seems to stick to your hair even after you shower. But it feels like home. And spending time with your closest friends is worth it all.

You're walking through the tiny town's farmer's market, a list of groceries in your right hand, written by Winifred herself.

Just as you're paying for the last vegetables that you need, the sound of horse hooves on the gravel road makes you and everyone around you turn to the sound.

Sitting atop his prized mare is Bucky, a dark cowboy hat on his head and some fancy looking cowboy boots on his feet. He slows to a stop in front of you, grinning as you step closer.

"Well howdy," you tease. He chuckles and looks down for a moment.

"Ma wanted me to come pick you up. Says a storm's brewin'. She didn't want you walking home in it. Brought my pack so you can stash the groceries and we can ride back home." You purse your lips then nod, handing him the groceries so he can put them away.

"Now c'mon up. You remember how to ride?" The glimmer in his eyes makes you grin.

"As a matter of fact, James, I remember vividly how to ride." He chuckles softly and offers you his hand. You grab it with one hand and pull while bouncing to give yourself momentum. You grab onto his bicep with your other arm and swing your leg over the horse, pulling yourself up the rest of the way with ease.

"Huh, all that time in the big city hasn't made you forget," he mutters, glancing over his shoulder at you while his mare starts a comfortable walk back to the house.

"I uh... I haven't had a chance to tell you, but your place looks great," you say awkwardly, hands twitching to reach for him.

He hums, his right hand reaching back and grabbing onto yours, pulling it around his waist. "You'd better hold on tight. Don't want you to fall." You bring your other hand around his waist and lean your head against his back.

The ride back home is quiet and peaceful, and gives you far too much to think about.

When you're finally back on the property, Bucky hops off of his mare then reaches up and grabs your waist instinctively. And you let him.

He helps you down and the two of you stand like that for a long moment, chests touching and eyes locked together, the tension palpable between the two of you.

Thunder booms in the distance and it snaps the two of you out of your moment. Bucky ducks his head and leads his mare to the stables and you make your way into the house that the two of you are sharing.

When Bucky finally comes inside, his hat damp with rain, you've got two mugs of tea waiting. You hand one to him then make your way into the sunroom to relax as the rain falls gently outside.

You're sipping your tea, watching the rain, when Bucky comes out and sits next to you on the worn old couch.

"I've missed you, (Y/n). I really have. It just.... it ain't the same without you here." You look over at him and smile sadly.

"I've missed you too, Buck. So much." He throws his arm over the back of the couch, eyes on you as he sets his mug down on the coffee table.

"When you left... I thought you'd come back and be too prissy for me. Thought you'd realize what you're worth and you wouldn't wanna speak to me again, that's assumin' you'd come back at all. And I know it's shallow of me, but I didn't know what to expect. But let me tell you that I'm so damn happy that you haven't changed. You've filled out a bit more, and you seem more confident, but you're still my (Y/n) in there."

You look over at him, see the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes, and find yourself falling head over heels all over again.

"Bucky, I'd never think myself 'too good' for you. Or for anyone here. You guys are my family... my friends.... and..." you trail off , eyes darting down to his lips for a long moment before finding his eyes again.

His arm slides from the couch to your shoulders, fingers squeezing your shoulder gently. You lean forward, setting your mug on the table beside his then nuzzle back against him, sighing softly.

"I'm glad you're home," he whispers, eyes finding your lips. You nod, instinctively shifting closer to him.

You lick your lips and his eyes dart down to the movement. He looks back up to your eyes, asking for permission. You grant it, leaning forward slightly. He meets you halfway, lips warm and slightly chapped.

You melt into it, moaning softly against his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips and gently lets his tongue explore, re-familiarizing himself with every inch of you.

His hands grip your waist and yanks you over to him, helping you situate yourself so that you're straddling his thighs. You cup his cheeks and kiss him harder, inhaling sharply when he grabs your ass.

"Let's get you outta these jeans, yeah?" He asks, his voice gravelly and deep with lust. You stand up, legs trembling slightly, and quickly rid yourself of your jeans. He does the same, kicking off his jeans and unbuttoning his flannel. You pull your t-shirt above your head, leaving you completely bare in front of him, except for your panties.

He has his hand down his boxers, stroking his hard length while his hooded eyes stay trained on you.

You drop to your knees between his legs and smile innocently up at him.

"Can I suck your cock, Bucky?" He moans at the way you say it, nodding his head furiously. You're quick to help him out of his boxers, your jaw dropping as his cock rests freely against his abdomen.

He's so much bigger than you remember. You take him in your dominant hand, stroking him slowly. He throws his head back, taking deep breaths as you continue to slowly torture him.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you lean forward and lick him from base to tip, then take him down your throat.

He lurches forward, hand grabbing onto your hair as you start bobbing your head up and down.

"Jesus fuck!" He watches you through hooded eyes as you give him what may be the best blowjob of his life.

"Fuck, stop." He pulls you off of his cock and takes a few shuddering breaths.

"As fucking fantastic as that feels, I wanna cum inside of you." You rub your thighs together as heat pools at your centre at his words.

He pulls you up onto his lap again and pulls at the flimsy lace of your panties, tearing them clean off of your body. He tosses them aside then pulls you closer to his chest, rutting his hips upwards to grind his cock against your folds. You moan and drop your head to his shoulder, the feeling of his hot length against your wet heat only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

"You gonna let me fuck you hard? Huh? You gonna let me show you just how much I missed you?" You nod breathlessly, grinding your hips against his and moaning every time he bumps your clit.

He lifts you up slightly, just enough to snake his hand between your naked bodies, then lines his aching cock with your cunt.

He doesn't make any further move, allowing you to take the reins at your own pace, and for that you're more than grateful.

It takes a while, lowering on him slowly, before you can settle comfortably on his lap, and even then the two of you are straining.

"Fuck," he rasps, fingers digging into your waist, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

You give your hips an experimental rock and moan as he rubs right against your g-spot.

"God, you're tight," he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. You glance down to where the two of you are connected then back up to his blissed-out face and make a decision in your head.

With determination and a loud moan, you lift your hips then drop them back down. He lets out a guttural groan and you repeat the action, gradually speeding up until you're bouncing in his lap, his cock hitting every single good place inside of you.

"I-I'm gonna cum," he whispers, moaning softly when you clench around him. You can feel yourself approaching the edge too, and when he brings his hand between your legs to rub your swollen clit, you see stars.

A long drawn out moan leaves your lips as your release slams into you like a brick wall. You collapse against his chest, eyes rolling back into your head as he grips your hips and fucks up into you, drawing out your orgasm while finally reaching his own.

His hips stutter a few more times before he stills, arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly to his chest while the two of you stay locked together, his cock softening inside of you.

You push yourself up against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He hums happily and hugs you tighter. Two fingers flick the tip of his hat and he chuckles, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

"Well, you know what they say," you whisper, grabbing his hat and plopping it onto your own head. He shakes his head with a laugh. "No, what do they say?"

You grin and bring your mouth down so that it's just hovering over his.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy."

#bucky x reader #cowboy!bucky x reader #cowboy au #cowboy!au #cowboy!Bucky Barnes x reader #cowboy bucky x reader #cowboy Steve x reader #Steve x reader #bucky x reader cowboy au

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annewritesfic · 3 years

Text

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

y’all i’m so attached to this au-

anyways! based on chapter 58 of cress by marissa meyer!

tw: discussion of blood, violence, chess has a pretty gorey nightmare in the first section (you can skip the first few paragraphs and pick up at “Chess opened her eyes with a gasp” to miss it), blades, pain medication, mention of attempted murder/murder, hallucinations

word count: 2275

In Chess's dreams, she was being chased by a wolf.

She was running through a field of crops with thick mud that sucked at her shoes, fog soaking her jacket and leggings, her lungs burning and her eyes stinging and her heart thundering. Dry leaves crunched underfoot, quickly being swallowed by the mud, and something in the back of her head dimly registered that she was being chased through the sugar beet fields on the Benoit farm back home. Even as she thought it, something began to glow in the distance - the lights of a farmhouse. Her house. The house she’d grown up in, the house that had always been safe and warm. If she could just make it to the farmhouse, then everything would be okay.

But no matter how hard and fast Chess ran, the farmhouse didn’t get closer. It almost seemed that for every step she took, the farmhouse was three steps farther away. She might’ve been running for hours or days or months or years, but the farmhouse got no closer. Eventually, the fog closed in and swallowed the farmhouse, the warm glow blinking out of existence.

She tripped, landing on her hands and knees with a shout of pain, mud sticking to her clothes and caking her braid. The damp wetness soaked into her bones, making them ache from the cold. She looked up, and just a few feet away was the wolf, crouched low to the ground, eyes flashing with hunger and anger. Her hands desperately searched for a weapon on the ground, something, anything, as the wolf got closer, and closer, and closer…

There. Something smooth and hard under her fingers. It was surprisingly easy to yank from the mud. She barely had time to look at it, to register the blade glistening in the moonlight under the layer of mud, the sanded wooden handle - an axe - before the wolf leaped in the air, jaws unhinged, sharp teeth reflecting in the axe blade. Chess lifted the axe reflectively, bracing herself, just moments before the wolf would’ve landed on her chest and ripped her to shreds.

The axe cut clean through the wolf, slicing it in two pieces from snout to tail. Its blood splashed all over Chess’s face and chest, and she heard twin thumps as the two halves fell on either side of her head. A choking sob fought its way up her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, sure she was going to throw up.

Then the two halves of the wolf began to move, shifting beside her into two human-like shapes, each wearing half of the pelt. The fog began to clear as two hands reached towards her, and Chess stifled a cry - her grandmother and Cairo, welcoming her home.

Chess opened her eyes with a gasp.

Instead of her grandmother’s old military jacket and Cairo’s shining eyes, all she saw were steel bars. The air was filled with the scent of ferns and moss. The chatter of birds was so overwhelming she almost covered her ears.

A soft yip came from somewhere to the side, sounding concerned - the white wolf. Chess rolled over to look at him - on the other side of the pathway, the wolf sat, watching her. He tilted his head a little bit, and it struck her how much he almost seemed like the neighbors’ dogs back home.

Home…

It wasn’t the first time she thought it, but Chess was still shocked by the near-physical pain in her chest, the longing for the rolling fields and blue skies and familiar faces. She wanted to go home.

“He likes you,” said a voice.

Chess inhaled sharply and sat up, eyes searching wildly for the source of the voice. A girl about her age was sitting in her cage, hands folded in her lap, watching her curiously, close enough to touch. Chess tried to move away, but pain shot through her hand, and she fell back to the ground with a hiss of pain. Her hand was wrapped in bandages, but her pinky was the worst of it - during her trial, Levana had forced her hand to pick up a hatchet and use it on the pinky finger of her other hand, taking it off at the second knuckle. The pain had been bad enough that she’d wished to pass out, although she hadn’t. But while that was the worst of her pain now, it wasn’t all of it - there were scratches and cuts and bruises all over her entire body, some from the scuffle on the satellite and some from that awful Lunar boy she’d stayed with for several days and most of the aches from sleeping on hard floors for more nights than she could count.

The strange girl didn’t react to Chess’s fear. She sat quietly against the wall, her back straight, looking interested and curious. She clearly wasn’t another prisoner - she wore a pale pink dress that looked out of place against the dark regolith Chess’s cage was carved from. Her honey-brown hair tumbled around her shoulders in healthy, shiny curls, half of it tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a pale blue, sparkling with excitement, and Chess realized that her left eye had three scars below it, cutting in straight, parallel lines down her cheek - almost like perpetual tear tracks.

She was the most beautiful person Chess had ever seen.

And it was that beauty that made Chess realize she was wearing another glamour - another trick.

“Ryu and I were wondering if that was a very good dream or a very bad one?” the girl asked in a sweet voice. “You were mumbling to yourself quite a lot.”

Chess pushed away the lingering memory of the dream, the image of Cairo and her grandmother smiling at her. “Who the hell are you? And-and who’s Ryu?”

The girl smiled. “Ryu is the wolf, silly!” She turned to look at the wolf across the path. “Haven’t you been neighbors for four months now? Ryu, why haven’t you introduced yourself?”

The wolf blinked big yellow eyes at her.

The girl looked back at Chess and leaned forward, like she was sharing a big secret. “And I am your new best friend. But you mustn't tell anyone, because all the guards think that I am your master and you are my pet - they don’t know that my pets are my dearest friends of all! We will fool all of them, you and I.”

Chess struggled to comprehend what the girl was saying. None of it made sense, or answered Chess’s question.

The girl reached for a basket beside her that Chess hadn’t noticed before. It seemed like a picnic basket, lined with some soft, silvery material. “I thought that today, we could perhaps play doctor and patient! I’ll be the doctor, of course. You seem in need of some care.”

Chess sat up and pressed herself against the opposite wall. “You’re not a doctor.”

“I know. That’s why it’s pretend.” The girl smiled wider. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“No, actually, I’m really not.” Chess’s fingers pressed against the rough stone floor. “I’ve been mentally and physically tortured, I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I’m locked up in a cage in a goddamn zoo-”

“Menagerie.”

“-and I’m hurting in a thousand different places. And now some crazy girl comes in here and wants to play make-believe? Like we’re best friends or some shit?” Chess scoffed. “I’m good. Go away.”

The girl sighed and leaned her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. “You shouldn’t call me crazy. The guards don’t like that. Even though it’s true.”

Neither of them broke the silence for a moment.

“I know it’s true. You want to know how I know?” The girl leaned forward again. “The palace walls have been bleeding for years, but I am the only one who sees.”

More silence.

“No one believes me, no matter how many times I say it,” the girl continued. “Sometimes I can’t help but step in it, and then I track bloody footprints everywhere, and I worry that perhaps a wolf soldier will smell it and come for me. But if the blood was real, don’t you think the palace maids would clean it up?”

Chess tried and failed to think of an answer.

The girl pulled a small box wrapped in ribbon. “These are for you. Doctor’s orders are to take one pill twice a day.” She handed Chess the box with a wink. “It isn’t real medicine, of course. It’s just candy. Sour apple petites - they’re my favorite.”

“I’m not eating one of those.”

“Why not? It’s a gift.” The girl opened the box and held it out to Chess - four small, round red candies, shiny and smooth. Chess didn’t move, and after a moment, the girl set the open box down on the floor between them.

“What do you want from me?” Chess asked.

“I want to be friends.”

“A friendship based on lies?” Chess laughed sharply, humorlessly. “Of course you don’t mind that. You’re Lunar. Lying is all you know how to do.”

The girl looked at her lap. “I’ve only ever had two friends - two human friends. One became a pile of girl-shaped ashes when we were very little, and the other has gone missing. I don’t know if he’ll ever return.” She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I asked the stars to send me a sign that he was all right, and the next day was a trial like any other trial, except standing before me was an Earthen girl who’d seen him.”

“Can you make sense? Please?”

The girl leaned forward, closer than she had before, close enough that Chess could almost feel her breath across her face. “Is he all right? Sybil said he was still alive, that he probably was supposed to be piloting that ship, but she didn’t say whether he’d been injured. Do you think he’s safe?”

“Who?”

The girl smiled again, almost wistfully. “Clark Winslett. Sybil’s guard. The man with the blond hair and the kind eyes and the smile that holds the sun. Is he all right?”

Chess blinked, baffled. She didn’t remember much from the fight on the Rampion, and what few memories she did have were blurry. But while her focus had been mostly on the thaumaturge, she did faintly remember a blond guard.

But the smile that holds the sun? Bullshit.

“I remember two people that tried to kill us,” she muttered.

“And he was one of them?” the girl pressed, seemingly unconcerned with the killing part.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The girl smiled gleefully. “Did he look okay?”

“He looked like he was trying to kill me,” Chess said. “But I bet my friends killed him first. That’s our typical procedure for people who work for your queen.”

The girl’s smile vanished. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. And he deserved it.”

The girl began to shake, almost hyperventilating. The wolf - Ryu - pawed at the bars of his enclosure, whimpering. Chess tamped down her guilt and told herself she wouldn’t call for the guard’s help.

The girl got her breathing under control and sat up, her hand resting on her basket. “I see. Well, I-I should go.” She moved as if to stand, but then stopped. “I wasn’t lying about the bleeding walls. Soon, the palace will be so soaked with blood that Artemisia Lake will be so red, even Earthens will see it.”

“I don’t care,” Chess said. “And I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Your glamours and your mind control - you people have built your entire civilization around those lies, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

The girl crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Chess, but said nothing for almost a minute. Chess lifted her chin and looked the girl in the eye, refusing to be afraid.

“I haven’t used my glamour since I was twelve years old,” the girl said at last. “That’s why I have these visions. Why I’m going mad.”

Chess didn’t show her surprise as the steel bars of the cage opened and the girl ducked out, taking her basket but leaving the candy. “Your Highness,” said the guard as he closed and relocked the cage door.

Chess listened to the footprints retreat down the path, staring at the candies, her heart thundering in her ears.

Your Highness.

Princess Annleigh.

The queen’s stepdaughter.

Annleigh was rumored to be more beautiful than Levana herself - which was why the queen had given her those scars. Even Earth knew about her, about her unspeakable beauty, about her scars… though Chess had never heard about the girl going mad.

The candies lay in front of her still, tempting her. Chess had no reason to trust her, but she’d finished her one small meal hours ago, and she wouldn’t be fed until the next day. Her stomach began to ache, and her head spun, and while she was proud of how long she made it, eventually she reached for the box and lifted one of the candies from the shreds of paper it was nestled in. It was smooth as glass between her teeth and cracked easily, the warm, melty center sweet and sour on her tongue. Nothing, nothing, had ever tasted so good.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation that expanded through her chest, down to her legs and into her fingers. A feeling of warmth, of comfort, that took her pain away with it.

Chess managed a smile up at the glass ceiling, at the stars beyond it. Perhaps the princess wasn’t so cruel after all.

#we are the tigers #chess watt #annleigh o'daniel #blood tw #violence tw #nightmare tw #drugs tw #murder tw #ask to tag #clarkleigh #the lunar chronicles

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dilfbane · 4 years

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Who Moves First - Elena Gilbert/Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: A ball is attended, a warning is made, and a doppelgänger chooses differently, for once.

Pairing: Elena Gilbert/Elijah Mikaelson

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is a TVD oneshot that I posted quite awhile ago on ao3, and it’s one of my more popular works over there? It’s also a oneshot that I quite enjoyed writing for a pairing that doesn’t get enough love. I’m going to be working on transferring more of my stuff to here from over there, mainly for TVD but also for Game of Thrones and Doctor Who, if that ever ends up happening on my ao3 account. Anyways, I hope that you enjoy, and I will be back with more writing this weekend!

“We need to talk,” Says Elena.

She isn’t quite sure why she says it, what’s propelled her to seek out Elijah and pull him aside before the start of the dancing, but she thinks she should call it suspicion. Nothing good ever comes out of meeting witches in back rooms, and though Esther may have claimed otherwise, Elena knows better than anyone else what a mother’s love is and is not. She thinks that he look surprised, when she says it - at least, as surprised as Elijah can get, which honestly isn’t much. It’s the slightest quirk of his lips, she’s discovered. The faint raise eyebrows he gives before his features settle, and then he is nodding at her.

“Do I need to keep your guardians preoccupied?” Asks Elijah, and she finds herself shaking her head.

“I’ve got it covered,” She tells him. She’s been watching the doorways diligently, and they haven’t even arrived yet. She has plenty of time to meet with Esther and finally learn what she really thinks about Klaus.

“I don’t trust her,” Elena blurts out, not meaning to say it so bluntly. She’s met, again, with surprise.

“How do you mean?” Elijah inquires, “And - to whom are you referring?”

“Your mother,” Elena says, biting her lip on a whim. “I don’t trust your mother, Elijah. She wants to meet with me alone, and I just - I don’t think it’s going to end well. I wanted to warn you,” She says. Huffs out a breath when she’s finished and drags her gaze from his. But Elijah is moving; he tilts her chin up with one long, elegant finger.

“You wanted to warn me,” Elijah says, “After everything I’ve done to you?”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Says Elena. And she wonders if he will believe her, or if he knows the real reason why. But there is something more to it. Loathe as she is to admit it, she likes being close to Elijah. Likes having someone that she can trust who will let her make her own choices, because underneath everything else about them - all the lying and all the betrayal - he’s always let them be hers. Elena steals a glance towards the doors of the mansion, sees two familiar forms enter.

“So,” She says, “About my guardians…”

“I’ll keep them distracted,” He tells her, “While you learn my mother’s intentions. First, however-” Elijah clears his throat, looking, for one moment, sheepish. Elena blinks. She’s never known Elijah to succumb to something like nerves, but by the time that she looks back, the awkwardness of it has vanished, and he is holding a hand out to her. Smoothly. Expectantly, she thinks. “Lovely Elena,” Elijah asks, “Would you do me the honor of giving me your first dance?”

Of course, thinks Elena, A ball. She doesn’t know what to tell him; she doesn’t owe him her dances. She doesn’t owe him anything. But Elena has already gotten this far, surrendered this much of her to him. She is going to tell Elijah things that Stefan and Damon will never know about her, and thinks that by this point she has; in the way that she lives, and the way that she loves, and the way that she talks when she’s lonely, as if nobody else were there.

“You scare me, Elijah,” She tells him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Elijah,” She says, “I appreciate it, the offer. But I don’t think that you can.”

“Nevertheless,” Elijah says smoothly, “I want you to feel safe with me.”

“How can I?” She asks him. Pulls away before he can answer, unable to look at his face. “Just - do me a favor and keep them away?”

Elijah snorts. It’s the kind of low snort that Damon likes giving when he knows that he’s already lost, and Elena thinks about what it means, that Elijah is giving it now. It fills her with something that she’s never felt in her life, and the rush of it nearly knocks her off her feet. She finds herself stumbling backwards. Worry creases his brows as she raises a hand to stop him from coming much closer. She thinks that she knows what Esther is planning, and knowing it, makes up her mind.

“Give me ten minutes,” Elena says. “I can’t promise you the first dance, but if you can give me ten minutes alone, then I promise I’ll give you the second.”

Elijah nods, and everything she knows changes. A slow smile spreads across her face as she turns to duck through the crowd, weaving her way up the staircase. She looks behind her only once; catches his gaze over the balcony rail as he approaches Stefan and Damon. She nods at Elijah, and Elijah nods back. I’m going to do this, she thinks to herself, Because it’s the right thing to do. Damon would kill her for doing this, she thinks. Stefan would be appalled. But there is no time to think about them, and so Elena does not. She gathers her courage and knocks at Esther’s door, smells the cloy of burnt sage. And thinks to herself, as Esther tells her to come in, that the worst thing she could do to him would be to break her own promise.

“So,” He asks.

“I was right.”

She didn’t go to warn Elijah. Not the way she’d thought she would. With her eyes and palms burning, she’d burst out the back doors, steeling herself on a cry. She’d soon enough heard them open behind her, felt the firm, gentle pressure of Elijah’s hand on her shoulder. It makes her more frightened then she’s ever been, how quickly she knew it was him. She thinks it’s how he is so still, and so calm. Offering her everything that he can give.

“What did she say?” Asks Elijah.

“I can’t,” Says Elena, “I - Elijah, I’m sorry, I can’t-”

“Tell me,” He says, in that tone of voice. A shiver of terror rips through her. Reminding her, wordlessly, that Elijah is still Elijah, the deadly Original who could easily have snapped her neck in that farmhouse, torn her heart out of her chest. Tears sting at her vision; Elena lets them fall.

“I couldn’t stop it,” She tells him, “Elijah,” She says, “I’m too late.”

A soft hum escapes from his lips, and, unbidden, sparks something warm in her chest. The hand on her shoulder tightens over her skin; the other wraps around her waist, settling itself low on her.

“Why don’t you tell me,” Elijah says, “And I’ll be the judge of that. Come now, Elena - We’re going to miss the champagne.”

“The champagne?” She asks him, whirling suddenly. “You mean - you haven’t had any yet?”

“No,” Says Elijah, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh,” She says, “Oh my God, Elijah, I thought -”

“From the beginning,” Elijah says, and the sharp ache of being apart from his body worms it way up her sides. The way Elijah Mikaelson holds her; she thinks she could stay here forever. Hers, she thinks, if not his. And the manner in which he is looking at her, his tense body poised to receive, makes her think that he might let her, if only she thought to ask him.

“She wants to link you,” Elena says, “She needed my blood, to put into the champagne. She wanted to make all of you human and then,” She tells him, “Then kill you.”

“I see,” He tells her, “And you aided her in this endeavor?”

“No,” Says Elena, shaking her head vehemently. “I told her that I wouldn’t do it. She took my blood anyways.” Elena’s voice has fallen deep, and a sob’s choked its way up her throat. She hates how weak she must look. How foolish she must seem to him - her, Elena, not able to stop herself crying from what was just a quick pinprick. But she should know better than that. The fury that enters Elijah has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Esther. She notices that, when his fingers clench and relax, and he holds that same hand out to her.

“Elena,” He says, “It’s alright. Thank you for telling me.”

“You can’t go back in,” She says. “The - the others have -”

“Than I shall stay here,” He tells her. “In case you haven’t forgotten, you promised me your second dance.”

A laugh tears through her body, and she finds herself throwing her head back, the sheer relief of it pulsing through her bloodstream.

“I haven’t even had my first yet,” She tells him. “Fuck,” She says, “I was busy.”

The laughing is like alcohol. She gets the same buzz from it. Elijah stares as if she intimidates him, and that makes Elena laugh harder.

“It’s ok,” She says, “I won’t bite.”

“Elena,” He asks - timidly, she thinks, concerned - “Are you by any chance drunk?”

“Shut up,” She tells him, “Let’s dance.”

And she launches herself into him; knows, now, that he will accept her. His wide arms swallow her up as if it is instinctual, and the heat of him curls around her. His fingers run the length of her spine, and his chin slots over her crown. She thinks that they must make an image.

“Okay,” He tells her, “Alright,” He tells her, “Let’s dance.”

“No,” Elena says, feeling the world stop around them, “No, I - wait.”

Elijah’s hands still on her and she pushes out from under him.

“Elena?” He asks her, “Are you -”

“It’s nothing to do with me,” She says, “I just - I need you to know that I’m sorry.”

Elijah gasps; an honest to goodness gasp, and it gives her the sense that nobody else alive’s heard it. She stores that somewhere in the back of her head to pull out later, when he’s gone and she’s back in the Boarding House, crying herself to sleep like she has every night since Stefan decided to leave. She knows that it’s going to hurt her. Needs it to be said anyways.

“Elena,” He says, and his voice is a cool, calming river, “Whatever are you sorry for?”

“Killing you,” Says Elena, “Stabbing you in the back. You deserved better than that.”

“It’s in the past,” He says, “Forgiven. You saved all of our lives tonight - that’s more than enough of an apology.”

“No,” She tells him, “It isn’t. If you were human -”

“What?” Asks Elijah.

“Then you would be dead,” Says Elena, “And your blood would be on my hands.”

She hasn’t said it out loud before, but it’s stalked through her journal, her nightmares; taunting her, mercilessly, with the picture of his graying corpse. Elena had known in that moment what it felt like for her heart to stop, even if she hadn’t known why. She thinks, as the adrenaline fades and she starts to sob, that she’s beginning to understand. Elijah says nothing, but his presence, his nearness, steadfastly refuses to waver. He is so patient, Elena thinks, and she is so selfish, so cruel. Isn’t that what everyone says?

“I am not human,” He tells her, after a long, laden quiet. “Neither,” He adds, “Are you. You did what you thought you had to. It’s why I admire you.”

“Yeah,” Says Elena, “I bet.”

“Please,” He says, “I insist. There are a great deal many things that are admirable about you.”

“Like what?” Asks Elena, “My willingness to commit murder?”

“Let me think,” Says Elijah, stroking his chin in that particularly scholarly manner. “To start with,” He says, “You are the kindest, most selfless woman I’ve ever met in my life. You care deeply for those that you love, and would do anything to protect them. You are not afraid of dying yourself to keep others safe and whole, even if they have wronged you. You are brave,” Elijah says, “Fierce. You know how to hold your own. And you have a beauty, Elena. I thought you’d have noticed by now.”

“Noticed what?” Asks Elena. Her voice is failing; he is looking so tenderly at her, and in this instant Elena doubts that she’s ever loved anyone else - because that is, she knows, what she feels.

She loves him, she knows, and she can’t.

“You can do whatever you’d like,” Says Elijah. “Far be it from me to deny you.”

And yet, thinks Elena -

“I can’t.”

“Whyever not?”

“Stefan,” Elena says, “Damon. What would they think about this?”

“It’s none of their business,” He tells her. Sounding, once more, she thinks, guarded. She thinks of him lonely, his brothers and sister in coffins, and feels a sorrowed pang bloom. Elijah needs someone, she thinks. Somebody who loves him truly, the way that she wishes she could, but she knows that it cannot be her. She is the doppelgänger, and all she that she will ever be is a curse.

“I’m none of those things,” Elena tells him, “Those things that you mentioned, Elijah - they aren’t a part of my soul.”

“Nonsense,” He tells her, “I don’t think you know your own strength.”

“What strength would that be?” She asks him - knowing how desperate she sounds, and how wounded. He is making her too vulnerable, she thinks. She needs to go back inside.

“The strength,” Says Elijah, “To make deals with me. To give me your word, and to keep it.”

“I -“

“You kept it,” He tells her, “Tonight. Now - you have two choices, Elena. You can make me lose all of that admiration by running back to the Salvatores, or,” He says, “You can stay with me, and we can dance.”

“I don’t know how to dance,” Says Elena. He clicks his tongue in a chide.

“You were the runner-up, I believe? In the Miss Mystic Falls competition?”

“I don’t know how to dance with you,” Says Elena. A grin spreads over his face, and she feels her own rising up.

“Well then,” He tells her, “I suppose I’ll just have to teach you. Give me your arm, sweet Elena?”

It is there - in that question, that answer - that she thinks she’d be happy to die. If it was Elijah who did it. If he fed her his blood first; bit his wrist open and let his blood flow, coppery and thick, into her mouth, then she’d let him make them the same. Stefan and Damon are probably looking for her - have probably recovered from whatever it is that he’s done - but she doesn’t care about that. There is only her and Elijah. The crisp, perfect white of his collar. The dark, tender gait of his gaze. Elena isn’t a liar. She does not know how to do it, dance with somebody like him.

But God, does she want to learn.

And it is so fast for Elijah - so simple, she thinks, to deposit herself in his grasp as he poses himself at her elbow, nudges her up so her feet are on top of his feet. This close to him, Elena can hear his loud heartbeat. It’s that much off, she thinks, from what a human’s should be, but it’s beating away all the same, and she thinks that it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. A tear escapes her unasked for - he reaches upwards and swipes at it with the calloused pad of a thumb, waiting for her to explain.

“It isn’t you,” Says Elena, “It’s only that - I haven’t done this,” She says, “Since my dad died.”

“You never told me about it,” Elijah says, as he moves. Elena goes taut; her eyes and her ears are filled with the blue thrum of water, but he pulls her back to herself. “You don’t have to tell me,” He tells her, “But I am so very sorry for your loss.” The honesty of it shoots its way through her nerves, and any reticence that she had abandons her in the wake of it. Elijah knows the story already, but Elena thinks that she’s never wanted to tell it to anyone more.

“It was icy,” She tells him, “My parents - they drove off Wickery Bridge. Stefan found us, there, in the water. He could only save one of us, and - they made sure it was me. I was fifteen, Elijah. And I thought - God, I was so young then, I thought that I’d live forever.”

“Shh,” He says, brushing the skin of her cheek, smoothing his palm down her face, “You still can,” He says, “If you’d like.”

“I think,” She tells him, exhaling a harsh-sounding sigh, “That it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Perhaps not,” Says Elijah, “But my offer still stands. If you ever find yourself wanting eternity, all that you need do is ask.”

“And if I don’t?” Asks Elena. He is taking them in a box step. She wishes that he would let go and spin her. Tug her into the planes of his chest and skim his hands down her thighs. Get his fingers all up in her tresses. Kiss her, she yearns, and pull.

“Then you should leave them,” Elijah says, nodding behind his shoulder. “They’re never going to stop, you know. And you don’t want it, Elena. The way that they love you - no one should love you like that.”

“Like what?” Asks Elena.

“Like you are something to win,” He tells her, “Instead of something to treasure.”

“That’s not how it is,” Says Elena.

“Isn’t it?” Asks Elijah. “They fight over you. They do not respect your decisions. They are tripping over their feet to one-up each other. What do you think will happen,” He asks her, “When one of them finally gets you?”

“Nothing,” She tells him. Sees the world form as she says it, like it was hers all along, “Neither of them will, Elijah. I belong to myself.”

“Good,” He tells her, “Than answer me as yourself, for a chance. Why do you care about them?”

Elena sighs. It trickles into the dark warmth between them, perfuming the hot, humid night.

“Stefan,” She says, “Stefan saved me. Not just from dying, but from wanting to be dead. As for Damon? He treats me differently than he treats anyone else. He’s not the worst man in the universe, once you’ve gotten to know him.”

“But neither of them respect you,” He tells her, “Surely that hasn’t escaped you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Elijah. I was born here. I live here. And I look just like Katherine.”

“You aren’t Katherine,” He tells her. “You are nothing like Katarina; have I made myself clear?”

He hasn’t stopped swaying them, but Elena knows that they have been missing too long. They won’t be alone for much longer.

“I have to choose,” Says Elena, “And any choice I make will kill me. What does it matter, Elijah, if I’m respected or not?”

“It means everything,” Says Elijah, “It is everything you have left.”

“Apparently not,” She tells him.

“Elena,” He says, exasperated, “Haven’t you been listening?”

“Elijah -”

“You have mine,” He says, “My respect. You have always had my respect. How could you not understand that? You do not need the Salvatores.”

She rends herself from him. Meets his hard, intense glare.

“Isn’t that my choice?” She asks him, “Or are you like them after all?”

“Elena,” He growls, “Whatever you’re trying to tell me, I would suggest that you don’t.”

“I can say what I want,” Says Elena, feeling the blaze of her anger in her, a virile torrent of it. Enough to match his, she thinks, if that is what it comes down to. “I can do anything that I want to. I could live for myself, if I wanted. Oh - don’t give me that. Who do you think I’m doing it for? I’m no one, Elijah. I’m a Petrova. I’m cursed. And you think that I live for myself.”

“I think that you should,” Says Elijah, “Before it’s too late for you.”

“Save it,” She tells him, “It’s always been too late for me.”

“Just like it was for me?” He asks, “Even though I’d not drunk the champagne?”

It is then that he does it. Cuts her off from his body, the feeling of him around her. Elena feels as if half of her sure soul has died. And Elijah - Elijah, he only looks sad. Devoid of his safety, his comfort, the things that Elena’s said stab her, twisting into her gut.

“You know where to find me,” He tells her, “When you change your mind about them.”

But if he is going to leave her - if she is going to choose this - Elena thinks she needs to know.

“What do you want, Elijah?”

She does not know who moves first. One second they are distanced, the next he’s devouring her. He tastes like the champagne that he didn’t drink, and the slide of his tongue is a bane. He’s a thousand years old and he knows it. He holds her as if she belongs to him - as if he knows, just as deeply as she does, that the pain of the life she’s been thrown into has tempered her so she can’t break. But I can break, she thinks, I can. The threat of it makes her want to howl. But the promise of it - the promise of it - makes her kiss him back fiercely, and fleetingly wonder just who has been saving who. It’s Elijah, she thinks to herself, who’s kept her safe these past months. Elijah who’s kept her alive. She wonders what he did it for. He could care about her, thinks Elena, or he could want to possess her; to make her arch underneath him and scratch long trails down his back in the slick of a heady, lamp-lighted bedroom. He could want nothing from her except for one night with her body, and Elena thinks she wouldn’t mind. She lives for the way that his teeth nip and scrape, the bruises he’s chosen to leave. She lives for the way that they fight in the firefly darkness. For they are at war with each other, and Elena knows she can’t win. What did you think would happen?, her mind yells, Going up against Elijah? Elena does not rightly know, but she will not surrender to him. If they are equals, then they will be equals. Even in hatred, Elena thinks to herself. Even, she thinks, in love.

“Elijah,” She groans, keening into his parted lips, the sharp, razor tips of his fangs. His bruising grip on her lessens, and then she is just what she’s wanted to be; the girl that he loves in his arms. Elijah’s breathing is heavy. Heavier, she thinks, then hers. He looks as if he is ashamed.

“I -” He says, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Says Elena, in one shaking, trembling breath. “No,” She tells him, “I’m fine.”

More than fine, thinks Elena. I want to stay here with you. Elijah, I just want to stay.

She will not say it to him, and she thinks that that’s why he loves her - because he knows, just as well as she does, the price that she’s willing to pay, if it means that he will be safe. Love has hurt Elijah before. She will not let it again.

She will hold onto the taste of him, though; the way that he loves her, so precious and inevitable. And someday, when Stefan and Damon decide that she is too fragile, she’ll give her eternity to him. Follow him there, to the edge of the Earth, to each of its four corners. She will be there with him, holding his hand. They will wade in the oceans and skip through the sidewalks of cities in Europe. In the evenings, Elena will sit on his lap. He will read novels to her, in his lilting mahogany tones, with a fire ablaze in the hearth. They’ll share lingering kisses and long, grazing touches; when it is dark out, he’ll press her down into the mattress and stretch her warm wetness around him. She will give everything and more to him, and she’ll never need anyone else. But this night is not their eternity. There’s an arm at her, spinning him out of her eyesight. She vaguely registers Damon raging at her.

“.. thinking, Elena? You went to meet Esther, alone?! You told him about her plan?!”

“Ahem,” Says Elijah - and, in the stillness, the power that he holds brings Damon to a grinding halt. “I do not recall inviting you here tonight. Leave, kindly, if you will.”

“Whatever,” Says Damon, “We’ll talk about this later. I’ll see you back home, Elena.”

“Yeah,” She calls out, “Back… home.”

She waits until he is far out of earshot before she opens her mouth, but Elijah slips his fingers up against her lips to make sure that she keeps silent. He does not look mad at her, she thinks, but that disappointment is back, the one that says that he yearns for her not to need them - aches for her to go with him; anywhere, everywhere, that she’s willing to let him take her. He bends his lips to hers one last time. This time, she thinks, he is pleading to her with his body, and she is the one to step back.

“I know where to find you,” She tells him.

And then, like the spring, he is gone.

#the vampire diaries #elejah #elena x elijah #au #angst #s3ep14

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