#i have a lot that are like this. ones that are technically On My Playlists but are not like... THE ONES. do you know what i mean? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sencrose · 14 days ago

Text

— ALL (SIX) EYES ON ME

pairing: gojo satoru x f!idol!reader

tags: slight dubcon/yandere, idol AU, no curses AU, clothed/costume/mirror sex, body worship, sweat kink, armpit licking lol, praise, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, sweetheart, sweetie), satoru's just a little weird in this sorry

wc: 9.2k (ugHGUHGUHGUGHUGHGUHGU)

summary: Everything's lining up. The tickets to your first solo show sold out weeks in advance. Small problem: there's only one person in the audience.

a/n: i don't...? i don't know man. this is extremely self-indulgent, self-ship coded at times, and technically a reeeeally late birthday gift to myself lmfao. makes a lot of references to jp idol culture (once again). if you have any questions my ask box’s open! dividers by @/adornedwithlight. + playlist + ao3 link here.

It’s taken weeks of preparation but it’s finally going to pay off. Countless hours of rehearsal, dancing in dusty studios until your body’s on the verge of dropping, singing until your voice is almost hoarse, but not quite. You know your limits, and you’re not willing to break them before something so crucial.

On the dawn of your birthday, your obligatory solo live has been the only thing on your mind. It can’t be anything short of perfect, especially after the tickets sold out in record speed. The stakes have never been higher. At least when you sell out a venue as a group, you can rely on each other. There’s no one to catch you if you fall here, physically or otherwise.

The green room feels empty without your fellow members to back you up. It’s a bit unnerving, having all this space to yourself, the mirrors reflecting back to you, and just you.

The silence of the room gets to you, so the obvious course of action is to play your set list in the background. You know all of the songs well, singing along gently as you unpack your luggage. Ruffles and frills bounce out as soon as you unzip it. No matter how tightly you attempt to pack your outfit, it seems like it has a mind of its own.

Putting it on was an ordeal in the beginning. Too many straps, too much fabric, too much volume to get lost in. But it’s become a part of you in the past couple of years, a second skin of sorts.

The top, a cropped blouse with a sweetheart neckline, always goes on first before you do your makeup. That was a lesson you learned on your second live when you accidentally stained the collar with foundation. You tug on the zipper, which always gets caught in between a bulky seam, tugging a bit harder when you get there. From there you bring it over your head and awkwardly shift until it’s finally on. It fits snugly once you zip up the side seam, your curves emphasized by the ribbon lacing detail on the side.

Makeup is simple enough, just a bit more extra than your usual day to day. More exaggerated eyeliner, an extra pigmented blush, dramatic eyelashes you still haven’t gotten used to (seriously, it’s distracting when they’re constantly in your periphery). To finish it off, some glitter around the eyes so it sparkles extra bright like the stars in the sky under the stage lights.

Once you’re done, it’s time for the skirt, and it’s always heavier than you think it is. It’s a given though – several layers of circles coming together at the waist, and dozens of yards of ruffled lace hemming each edge. It’d be a scientific anomaly if it weighed any less.

You shimmy your way into the skirt, one leg at a time until the elastic cinches at your waist. With it secured, you jump a couple of times – half to test its stability, and half to just watch the hypnotic bounce of fabric. At this point, it’s customary to do a little spin around in the mirror, lose yourself in the swish of fabric moving like the waves of the ocean, encapsulated around your waist. It’s your favorite part, just watching everything come together, feeling like a real star – even if the venue barely fits a hundred attendees.

All that’s left are finishing details. A ruffly garter that hugs your thigh, soft satin gloves on your hands, and a tiara instead of your usual matching set of bows on your head. Last but not least, a pair of platform boots. It’s still something you’re adjusting too, the weight of them dulling your dance moves just slightly.

When you check your phone, it’s just a few minutes before call time. You neatly pack your casual clothes in your luggage and roll it off to the side before exiting the room. Everything’s so different when you walk the hall alone. It’s a bit lonelier, a bit longer – plain white walls converging to a point you know all too well. You know you’re getting close when the instrumental playing through the speaker gets louder, too loud to ignore, a sign for you to put in your in-ear monitor.

Then you make it there, on the back edge of the stage like you’ve done so many times before, though alone this time. Anxiety beats like a drum in your chest, and you can’t bring yourself to peek through the stage curtains. Curiosity killed the cat after all.

The background instrumental starts, a soft bump of bass rumbles the floor, rattles your body. It’s your cue to go. With the mic held close to your chest, you step out to the stage, bright stage lights blinding you momentarily.

“Good evening everyone! Thanks for coming out tonight, it really-”

Your voice involuntarily stops in its tracks when your vision comes back to you.

The crowd is empty.

Well, almost empty.

A single fan stands tall right in front of you, familiar azure eyes staring a hole into your soul.

You remember him – Satoru. Couldn’t forget him if you tried. His reputation precedes him. If you had to choose a fan who’s dedication bordered on deification, it would be him.

Your fellow members even had a silly nickname for him: Mr. Monopoly. For the frivolous amounts of money he spent on your merch, and how he monopolized your time at every meet and greet by buying out a dozen cheki tickets the moment a performance ended. In fact, there have been a handful of events where he’s the only fan you’ve spoken to.

Despite that, it’s not like he’s creepy or anything. In fact, he’s incredibly normal – from what you can see anyway. Never crosses the line, never goes beyond the casual small talk about performance quality, curious questions about the upcoming release. But something about how much time and money he spends attending your shows keeps you on edge. Someone who spends so much of his life tucked away in dingy live houses can’t exactly be a paragon of society.

But this can’t be right, right? Your heartbeat’s erratic, pounding so hard against your ribcage you’re scared it’s going to crack. Didn’t the venue sell out weeks ago? You remember the congratulations text your manager sent you, the way you bounced off the walls of your bedroom in excitement at the news. That wasn’t fake. And what reason would he have to lie?

Was this some kind of online troll campaign? There’s always a possibility, but you’re quick to write it off. You’ve never been the topic of any notable online conversation, positive or negative. For once, your habitual ego surfing escapades pay off.

The wave of Satoru’s dazzling penlights snaps you out of your mental spiral, albeit still shaken.

“Um, it really means the world to me.” The words come out shakier than before.

You’re a professional.

It’s the only thought repeating in your mind, a hamster running on a wheel with no end in sight. You hope it rings true.

“Anyways, since it’s my birthday,” you continue, your voice still unstable. Your eyes wander around the room only to confirm nobody else is here, save for your manager, who’s also playing the role of bartender for tonight. The reality of the situation sinks in a little more, your heart dull and heavy.

“I thought we could get started with a solo cover of one of my favorite singles.” There was originally more you wanted to say, but your words elude you. Everything comes out cold, monotonous. “I really hope you enjoy it. Thank you.”

Satoru cheers and you swear it nearly bursts your ear drums, roaring like a tiger’s battle cry.

The instrumental starts, a hum of stringed chords hits your ears and you break into your starting pose, a smile beaming on your face despite the hurt in your heart. You know this dance like the back of your hand, but it feels uneasy performing in an unfamiliar setting. Lost somewhere in the in between; not quite alone in a dance studio, but not performing to the crowds you’ve grown used to.

There isn’t the usual weight to your moves, slightly deflated like a balloon that’s been left out for hours. The irony isn’t lost on you, singing about staying strong in the face of adversity under the soul crushing weight of disappointment.

You can hear him inhale, suck in dramatically like a child preparing to hold their breath underwater, only to let out a barrage of chants. The usual calls, about you being his favorite, about how cute you are. If this was backed by an army of fans, it would inspire you. But for the moment, it’s a bitter reminder of what could have been. It’s hard. You don’t want to be ungrateful, but you were expecting a bit more for your big day.

It happens before you realize it, glassy eyes forming tears when you blink.

The slight moistening of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru, and his calls start to change. He’s improvising, his words customized solely for you. Clapping in triplets, shouting lines of encouragement at the pause between lyrics. From woo woos to ‘you can do it!’, from oo-ah oo-ahs to “I’ll cheer you on”, from hey heys to “my oshi’s the best!”

It’s hard to not feel touched by his efforts. You’ve grown as a performer, him as a supporter, alongside each other. It warms your heart a little. You’re caught by surprise when you hear yourself giggle in between the lyrics. To be acknowledged is its own reward. What originated from sadness morphs into something else entirely. A fire in your heart, rekindled. Even if no one else showed up, Satoru would always be here. And maybe that’s enough for you.

It’s common practice to choose a spot in the audience to look at, not making direct eye contact with anyone. But nobody tells you what to do when you’re performing to an audience of one. How do you stop yourself from being pulled into Satoru’s form, so bright and radiant he lights up the room?

The song finishes with a flourish, and you hold your pose for a moment just as you’ve practiced. You finally recollect yourself, chest visibly rising and falling from exhaustion.

“S-sorry about that.” You take a moment to wipe your tears as best as you can with the back of your arm. It’s hard not to mess up your makeup, and you can only hope there aren’t trails of black falling down your cheeks. You sniffle, careful not to do so in the mic, but you’re sure he hears considering he’s only a few feet away. “As long as someone’s here, the show will go on. So let’s have lots of fun tonight!”

He cheers at that, lifting his penlight and spinning it around in his hand. A single star in the endless night sky.

“The next song is something I haven’t performed in a long time.” You walk around the stage, your eyes never leaving Satoru’s gaze. “I don’t think I’ve performed it since debuting.”

Satoru gasps upon hearing, humming like a bee from excitement.

“So if you know it, I would love to hear you sing along.” You set your arms down to your side, turning around to face the back of the stage. This song was from the beginning of your journey, a bit more experimental and leaning on the side of cyber pop. Buzzy synths and blocky eight bit pads echo throughout the room, and it rumbles throughout your body. Something about it is more intense than you’re used to, the way the instrumental has no choice but to bounce off the walls and back into you. How it shakes your very being.

It’s easy to get lost in the stage backdrop, an endless sea of black. But when you turn and see your lone fan, lightstick in hand, it’s as if you’re a lost ship guided home by the draw of a lighthouse’s lamp.

Even if you haven’t performed this routine on stage in a year, it feels right. Like this was how it was always meant to be performed. Singular rhythmic claps, Satoru’s roaring voice piercing through your in-ear monitor.

As soon as the first words leave your lips, it brings you back. Back to a time when you and your group were still starting off. To the nearly empty rooms on a Friday night, to the countless hours you’d spend standing on busy streets handing out flyers to promote your show. The first time you ran into Satoru.

Late afternoon in Akihabara. Spring had just come in full bloom, bringing along a litter of cherry blossom petals on the pavement and the accompanying hordes of tourists. It had been a long day, then again, most of those days were long days. The heat always found a way to get to you when you’re standing in your costumes for hours at a time, competing alongside all the other dressed up girls promoting their respective maid cafes and idol groups. Then there were the faceless crowds ignoring you every time you gestured for them to take a flyer, to come to your show. It was the pinnacle of demoralizing work, really.

Satoru was just a faceless being until he stopped in his tracks, the first and only person to talk to you that day.

“Is this tonight?” he asked, his glasses slightly pointed downward just enough so you could see that magnificent blue of his eyes.

“Y-yes. It’d be great if you could come cheer us on,” you responded with a smile.

He took the flyer without a word, folding and putting it in his pocket and you assumed that was that. You didn’t actually expect to see him again. But you did.

When he came to your performance, you didn’t pay him much mind, and you assumed he did the same with you. He stuck out like a sore thumb, choosing to stand towards the back of the room and avoiding the handful of fans at the front, arms crossed as if he didn’t want to be there despite paying for the (admittedly hefty) entry fee.

Yet at the end of the show, he lined up at the counter. Bought only a single cheki ticket to meet with you, to tell you he enjoyed the show, that he looked forward to the next one. You didn’t believe him, but sure enough he showed up at the next concert. And then a single ticket turned into two. And then three, four, until it snowballed into the dozen ticket minimum you recognize him by today.

And now he’s here. Cheering you on so enthusiastically you can practically feel the passion oozing off of him. Oh, how times change.

The song’s over before you know it. It takes you a moment to return from your trip down memory lane.

“Wow, what a throwback, huh?” you sigh dreamily, reminiscing on the past, on how far you’ve come. “I think it’s actually my first time hearing anyone mix to it.”

Gratitude rises and swells in your heart like a river during a rainstorm, nowhere to escape but your lips. It overrides any rational thought in your brain. The words spill faster than you can catch them. “Thank you for being here, Satoru.” With that, you break the number one taboo of addressing anyone directly in the audience.

“Anything for you,” he says softly, smiling and tilting his head just slightly. He doesn’t need to shout or project his voice any further, he knows you hear him. Maybe it’s just the lighting, or your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear the whites of his teeth glimmer.

Heat darts to your cheeks, feverish, and it’s not from the oppressive stage lighting. Your next words do nothing to help.

“This next song,” you pause, “is a love song. Kind of.”

Satoru responds, a scandalous and elongated, “Ooooh?”

Your rehearsed speech falls apart with the reaction Satoru gives you. It wasn’t this awkward when you were practicing it in the mirror, but this feels too direct of a conversation. Expectant, adoring eyes look up at you, waiting with bated breath.

“I, I mean it’s more about following your dreams,” you continue, flustered and taking long, aimless steps across the stage before turning back to face him, “there’s love in that, right?”

“There is!” he says, waving his penlight in the air side to side.

“I’m glad you agree. Well, if you know this song, I would love to hear you sing along.”

That goes without saying. As soon as the instrumental blasts through the speakers, Satoru’s chanting his heart out. A hope intertwined that you’ll listen to him, hear him for who he really is.

Satoru’s energy shows no sign of declining, his voice still as thunderous as when the show started. Your voice guides him along, an adventure navigating between chiptune keys and artificial strings, until it reaches the bridge. A flurry of sugary sweet synths buzz, racing to a climax together. Satoru inhales to prepare for the speech to come.

“I have something to confess!”

This is far from the first time you’ve heard this speech, it’s a staple of the culture after all. But this is the first time it’s been so clear. No one else to muddle his voice. Satoru, and just Satoru.

When he’s the only one in the audience, you decide to indulge him. Bending down on one knee, cupping your hand behind your ear.

“Tell me, tell me!” you exclaim back, voice as sweet as the melody playing through the speakers.

“My oshi really is the cutest!”

It’s a back and forth, and it feels much more like a conversation than it normally would. The words bounce between the two of you so naturally, like a tennis ball during a rally.

“Really really?” You play into it, faux shock weaved into your tone.

“I like her, I like her, I really do love her!” Satoru chants it rhythmically, trance-like. Each syllable is aimed crystal clear, an arrow with startling accuracy shooting you in the heart.

“Do you, do you?”

“I’ve found my princess!”

It’s hard to pose, but you manage to give him a little curtsy before pointing at your tiara. With Satoru chanting his affections to you, you truly feel like royalty tonight.

“Did you, did you?” you respond, tilting your head with a smile.

“She’s my reason for living!”

No matter how many times you tell yourself that the two of you are practically relaying a script, you think there’s a morsel of truth behind his words.

“Is she, is she?”

“Let’s walk through this life together!”

It shouldn’t have such an effect on you, you’ve heard it plenty of times before. From other concerts, from larger crowds. But it does. It has you smiling so wide your cheeks start to ache.

That’s new. When was the last time that happened?

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

Maybe you’re crossing a line when you extend your arm further, his lips so close to the mic you can feel his breath on it. Not that Satoru seems to mind. If anything, his eyes sparkle a bit brighter, his smile eclipsing any doubt in your head.

“I love you!” Satoru yells so loud the volume of it makes you wince. For just a fraction of a second, your smile drops before you place it back on, a well-worn mask. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume this was a real confession.

“L-O-V-E Y-O-U!” It's just how the call ends, but it feels like he’s spelling it out for you with intention in every letter, just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.

With the end of the chant you’re thrown into the last chorus, getting off the floor and resuming your choreo. Satoru resumes to the usual chants, as if he wasn’t yelling something reminiscent of a love confession.

A kick and a pose and that marks the end of the third song of the night. Something about Satoru’s cheers are electrifying, static shooting through every fiber of your being. It takes you a moment to catch your breath before taking a bow.

“And now for the last song of the night,” you pant into the mic, breathless.

“Ehhhh?” A long, high-pitched whine, as is customary when the night’s almost over.

“I know, I know. It’s always sad when things come to an end, isn’t it?”

“But let’s make the most of this together! I want to hear you put everything you got on the line!” you scream into the mic, as if there’s more than a single pair of ears to take in your words.

Satoru cheers wildly at that.

“And I hope I’ll see you at the next event!” you exclaim, waving your spare hand before getting into position.

A guitar riff, followed by a soft bass announces your last song of the night. The notes dance on your skin and you welcome the sensation, taking them in and returning them ten fold. The ruffles of your skirt brush against your thighs as you roll your hips, entrancing like a bird’s mating ritual.

You thought you’d never get sick of the view of a crowd, but there’s a new contender rising in the ranks of your favor. As you circle around the stage in preparation for the chorus, Satoru also seems to be planning something. As soon as the words leave your mouth, Satoru mirrors your dance, penlights shining brightly in hand. Every jump, every sway of your hips, he meets you there.

You’re supposed to be the star of the show but he’s caught your attention, outshining your glow.

As the last chorus makes its round, the words escape a bit more desperate, dancing the line between singing and wailing. Despite everything that’s happened, you’re having fun, maybe some of the most fun you’ve had performing thus far. You’re not sure you want this to end.

With his hands armed with penlights between his fingers, he swipes swiftly across the air, as if he’s cutting the space in between. One, two, three large circles in quick succession before kneeling on the floor, pose akin to an over-dramatic archer. From there on, every spot he hits in the air is calculated, as if he’s aiming for a bullseye on a dartboard before his hands move down to his side. Then, a pulse of motion before he aggressively spins his lightsticks in the air. Swinging low, left, right, left, bringing up his lightsticks past his head, before repeating the motion all over again.

It’s silly. He’s silly. It’s another side of him you haven’t seen before, despite him being such a dedicated fan. Maybe the crowd was just a distraction from seeing Satoru for who he really was.

Maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t here.

That breaks your train of thought. You know you shouldn’t be thinking of him like this – it’s unprofessional. This doesn’t stop the thought from lurking in the background, from reappearing on the surface when you meet his gaze, see the way he smiles for you and–presumably–only you.

As the instrumental fades, you shoot your hands up, gently bringing them down with a graceful flair, pausing when they reach hip height.

Even after a performance of his own, Satoru still cheers with the same momentum from the start of the night. His energy truly knows no bounds.

“Thanks again for coming, I really appreciate it,” you breathe into the mic heavily, your exhaustion now catching up to your body.

“I really had so much fun performing today. I hope we’ll see each other at the next live!” You thank your single fan of the night with a 90 degree bow, before running to gather supplies for the meet and greet session. And knowing Satoru, he will be participating.

As soon as you finish speaking, Satoru’s quick to walk to the counter, as if there’s a tangible chance anything is going to sell out. An exchange of words and bills and he comes bearing a handful of tickets – his usual.

Before you’ve even finished setting things up, Satoru walks up to the stage. There’s no need to wait to be called up when you’re the only performer here, him the only fan.

He waits patiently as you grab a small table and a pack of paint markers hiding behind one end of the stage.

“Thanks for coming, Satoru!” You reach out to grab his hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He meets your gaze.

“How did you enjoy the show?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“I guess not,” you chuckle, “I’m glad you had fun.”

You gesture your manager to come over, and he speedwalks over with an instax camera in hand.

“I know it’s your birthday, but could I ask for something?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Could I…” he trails off, a contemplative look painting his face as he chooses his next words.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and gesturing for him to continue.

“Could I put my arm around you for this one?” he asks, with newfound confidence.

Your ears perk up at the question. “You’re not gonna post it anywhere, right?”

“‘Course not. You have my word.” He pats his hand against his chest and gives you a reassuring smile.

You give a contemplative glance to your manager holding the polaroid camera, who gives you a shrug.

“Okay, but only this once.”

Then you break a second taboo, letting a fan touch you past a fleeting handshake, the connecting fingers of a heart.

His arm wraps around your waist and you do the same to him. It’s no surprise he’s warm, which makes sense considering he’s been dancing around just as much as you, if not more. However, it is a surprise you’ve never noticed how nice he smells. Then again, live venues aren’t exactly conducive to scents that aren’t sweat and dust.

With a bright flash, the polaroid hums as it prints out the photo. Satoru doesn’t linger, even though you think he would. And when his touch leaves, you almost wish you savored his warmth a bit longer before shaking the thought out of your head.

Every other pose he asks for is within the realm of normal. Several different hand heart variants, cat paws, the occasional silly pose thrown into the mix. It almost feels like a couples shoot. Almost. Pose after pose, flash after flash and you’re left with a handful of polaroids to sign, laid out in a messy array on the table.

“What was your favorite part?” you ask.

At this point, you think you have him figured out. Though Satoru has been to several shows, his answer usually boils down to a few options when you sift through all the embellishments and wordy rambles. Your performance, your outfit, your energy, and –

“Having you all to myself.”

That catches you by surprise.

For the first time since the beginning of the night, your composure cracks. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the situation and attempt to put a smile on your face again, but your voice comes out cold and distant.

“Huh?”

“How’d you like your birthday gift?” he asks, ignoring your confusion.

“Gift? Like performing?” you ask back, shaking the paint pen to get ready to sign the polaroid. You look back at him with a wavering smile. “It was fun.”

“No, no, not that.” Satoru waves his hand in front of his face and shakes his head. “Your first sold out live! I bought all the tickets.”

Your hand seizes in the middle of writing, a growing blob of paint forming where the pen is pushed down against the film. There’s no air to be found in your lungs, as if the entirety of the concert hits you all at once. When you find it in yourself to look at him, he stands there with his usual innocent smile painted on his face, patiently awaiting your reaction.

You clear your throat before finally speaking. “Really?”

“Really,” he says with ease, almost prideful at the fact.

The idea of him spending thousands on selling out a show seems implausible, but then again it is Satoru. If anyone were to do something so ridiculous, it would be him.

A nervous laugh escapes you, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It feels like you’re on a tightrope, a delicate balance to toe between professionalism and fanservice.

“You like me that much?” It’s a true, honest question. You finally lift the pen off the film, frowning slightly at the pool of paint on the picture.

“Of course!”

You don’t know how to respond to that. There’s no training guide on handling situations like this, but there really should be. You choose your next words carefully, falling back on something safe, distant.

“Thank you for your continued support.” The words come out hesitantly, robotic, like you’re reading off a script.

“Anything for you,” he responds warmly, seemingly unaffected by your tone.

If you heard this at one of your usual concerts, you wouldn’t have paid it much mind – just one of those casual comments a fan says to their oshi. Now, his words have some weight. It’s not something you feel comfortable holding.

But a twinge of guilt hits your heart when you look at him, when he still smiles with admiration on his face, like you’re the one who hung the moon and stars in the night sky. Maybe you’re being too harsh on him; different fans show their support in different ways after all. Hell, you’re sure some of your members would kill to have a fan like him.

Regardless, it’s still hard to shake off the uneasiness that plagues your chest, even harder to come back from a conversation like this.

“Have you considered doing more solo activities?” Satoru asks, ignorant of the thoughts that plague you.

“Eh?” You jerk at his words, not expecting him to carry the conversation. “Not really,” you respond while drawing an assortment of random doodles across the polaroids. The usual decorations, hearts, sparkles, confetti, what have you.

“You really should, I’d be the first to cheer you on!” he says with a smile that puts the sun to shame and that twinge of guilt hits you again. Here he is supporting you in earnest, and you’re judging him for it.

“Would you now?” you attempt to joke but it comes out a bit shaky.

“Of course!” he exclaims, your unease going seemingly unnoticed.

“Well, if I ever do, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there,” you respond with a soft smile before moving on to labeling the pictures with the date and your signature.

“You promise?” He holds out his pinky, waiting for you to reciprocate. You take a moment to ponder before raising your hand to meet his.

“Promise,” you reply, intertwining your pinkies together. The visible glee on Satoru’s face is a sight to behold. Part of you wonders if he only shows this side of himself to you.

“Oh, I think they should be dry, but still be careful with them.”

“I know, I know, wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.” He holds them gingerly as you hand them off to him, as if he’s holding a newborn puppy in the palm of his hands.

“Have a nice night, Satoru.”

“You too. See you soon!”

----

The activities of the night catch up to your body when you make it to the green room, plopping on to the vanity chair. If you landed any harder or the chair was any cheaper, you’re sure it would’ve broken from the way you tossed your dead weight onto it. You spin around aimlessly on the chair, staring up at the ceiling as a form of decompression. All you need is a moment to recollect yourself after the emotional roller coaster of a night.

A knock on the door and your back immediately straightens, posture prim and proper as can be. Your manager opens the door, barely peeking through to greet you.

“Hey, good job tonight,” he comments, opening the door fully once he sees you’re just lounging around.

“Thanks.”

“I’ve finished closing up, so just turn off the lights when you head out.”

“Yup, got it.” You give your manager a thumbs up and a smile, and he takes it as a sign to leave.

Before he has the chance to close the door shut, you grab his attention, a question burning in your head. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” he responds, opening the door again so you can see him face to face.

“Was the concert really sold out?”

“Yep,” he states matter-of-factly, “you should get your cut by next week.”

The pay is the last thing on your mind.

“Okay.” It comes out hushed, strained.

“Anything else?” he asks, tapping his fingers against the door.

You ponder it for a moment, but you’re not sure you want to bring up your concerns to him, if it’s worth the fight. What are you supposed to say? The walking piggy bank that sponsored the entirety of your performance makes you just a tad uneasy? But then again, he’s probably just a nice and honest fan. He might have an interesting way of showing it, but at the end of the day he’s proved himself to be harmless. You don’t see a solution that doesn’t lead to an extreme, and you don’t necessarily want to punish him for his support. So you bite your tongue, letting your thoughts stir and simmer.

“No,” you sigh, resigned.

“Alright, then,” he says, none the wiser, “have a nice night.”

“You too.”

You plop back onto your seat with a groan. The desire to relax for another moment outweighs the desire to get out of your costume. It’s easy to find yourself lost in thought, daydreaming about being back home, taking a nice hot bath to relax your sore muscles.

There’s another knock on your door.

“I’ll be out in a few, just give me a moment-”

The door opens with a slow creak.

It’s not your manager.

“Oh, Satoru!” you say, shock coursing through your body as you jump up from your seat, “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you off,” he says, as if it’s normal for him to be back here. Didn’t your manager close up? He would’ve seen him and kicked him out, right?

“I thought we said our goodbyes earlier,” you respond, voice an octave higher than usual. It only comes out when you’re trying your best to defuse a situation. “You know, at the meet and greet portion?”

“I know, I know,” he says, waving his hands as if he’s shooing away your comment, casually walking towards you.

You don’t think he actually knows.

“But we had such a good time, didn’t we?” he asks, taking another step forward to close the distance between the two of you.

“I mean, yeah! But there’s a-”

“What if we let it continue?” he interrupts, “your birthday isn’t over yet.” He glances over at the clock and your eyes follow. 10:12pm. The second hand moves slower than you’d like.

“It’s your special day isn’t it? Let me treat you.” His body presses closer against yours. The pressure makes you more aware of his height against yours, of the muscular build you feel through the thin layer of fabric.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not this close. “I’m not sure if this is a line I should cross, Satoru,” you mumble, an attempt to convince yourself to abide by the silent oath all idols take when they first get on stage and declare themselves entertainers – be as innocent as possible. No male friends, no dating, and certainly no hookups.

“You don’t have to cross anything,” he says, voice low. His face is dangerously close to yours, and your heart skips a beat when you realize just how beautiful he is – the tufts of white carefully brushing across his forehead, the glint of sweat that makes his skin glisten, and those hypnotic crystalline eyes of his, glimmering with devotion just for you. “I’ll cross it for you.”

Without any warning, his lips press against yours, and it’s nothing like what you expected. Nothing like the crazed, enthused fan you’re used to seeing. It’s gentle, sweet. The taste of melon soda sits on his lips.

The moment your lips part to say something, Satoru takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in, teasingly pressing against yours. His hand grabs yours before you can react, fingers intertwining until it represents something romantic. You feel your defenses slipping as his other hand grabs your chin to deepen the kiss.

You hate to admit it, but he’s a good kisser. Somehow, it comes so naturally with him. A dance shared between the two of you, except there’s no stage platform keeping you apart. He’s right here, not an inch of space to be found between your bodies. Everything about him overwhelms you – his gentle hand holding yours, the softness of his lips, the way he nearly whimpers with every kiss, needy and desperate for more.

Satoru’s knee pushes against your thighs, pressing to split your legs apart until your crotch rests on top of him.

“Let me spoil you,” he pleads, out of breath.

It’s far from the end, it’s just the beginning. A love letter to each part of your body, delicately inked with the utmost care.

His lips bite the tip of your right glove, gripping the fabric before pulling off to reveal your bare hands. The sight sends heat rushing to your core, seeing him hold the glove between his lips before spitting it out. When you cover your face with your gloved hand from embarrassment, Satoru meets you there. A soft nip at your finger before peeling the other glove off your hand, eyes looking up at you with something dark, something low. You don’t recognize it.

Once your hands are bare, he holds them gently. No excited death grip like the first time he held them at a meet and greet.

“I’m so lucky I get to hold these cute hands of yours.” Open mouth kisses from the tip of your fingers, slowly making their way up your forearm, your bicep, until he meets your shoulder.

“W-wait, Satoru, I’m still kinda sweaty, let me-”

“You think that bothers me? I love every part of you.” He drags his tongue up your forearm again before kissing and sucking on the skin. “And I really do mean every part.”

Over the months, you’ve learned that Satoru is many things, but he’s not a liar. The way he explores every inch of your body is filled with admiration. You feel it in the way he leaves messy kisses on your skin, nearly moaning when he licks the sweat off you.

When he brings your arms up, you pick up on what he’s going to do next and rush to get your words out. “W-wait, S-Satoru it’s kinda gross, isn’t it?”

“Not to me,” he says it like it’s an undeniable truth, “but if you think so, then I’ll just have to clean you up, right?” As if to prove his point, Satoru flicks his tongue before dragging a stripe against the curve of your underarm. From there he licks the droplets off of you like a man at the brink of dehydration who just found an oasis. He’s messy and wet, leaving nothing behind but his spit as he licks up anything and everything perspired from your body. “Tastes sweet to me.”

With that he goes in for the other side, once again lapping at your sweat like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Even when he’s licked up all there is to be savored, he’s not finished until he leaves sloppy kisses, sucking and nipping at the skin. He bites a little too hard for your liking, earning a yelp from you.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself, you taste so good,” Satoru’s quick to apologize, looking at you with a cheeky smile, “wanted to have a bite to myself.”

And then he’s squatting onto his knees, hands delicately massaging your thigh as he looks up at you to ask, “could you lift your skirt for me, sweetheart?”

You comply, bringing up the hem of your skirt. Since you haven’t started your undressing process of the night, you’re still wearing your safety shorts. Satoru doesn’t seem to mind, basking at the sight of your upper thighs he’s only caught glimpses of when you jump on stage.

“You don’t need this with me.” He pulls on the hem of your shorts, swiftly bringing them down to your ankles, as if he’s unwrapping a present with a pull of a bow.

You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that you can’t see him under your skirt, getting lost in the layers of crinoline and ruffles that blend in with his hair. It adds a layer of anticipation, being unable to see what exactly he’s doing, though you’re not sure if you would be able to look at him even without the barrier of the skirt.

Satoru starts low, plush lips pressed against your ankle, tongue tracing up your calf and leaving a wet kiss on your thigh. One moment you feel a hint of teeth around your garter, and the next you feel it loosen and fall to your feet.

Feeling too exposed, you instinctively press your legs together – not that this stops Satoru.

His tongue presses against the seam created from your thighs pressed against each other, and a soft moan slips from your lips.

“If you want more, you’ll have to open up,” he pants breathily, planting another open mouthed kiss on your leg.

There’s an aching want growing in your core, burning hot unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. When he looks up at you, you recognize the way his eyes glimmer with determination. You think you can trust him to tame it. And though Satoru was the first to cross the line, you aren’t any better.

You hesitantly shuffle your legs apart, unable to meet his eyes, waiting nervously for what’s to come.

Satoru is quick to take the opportunity.

He dives in, tongue pressed against the cotton of your underwear. His tongue rolls against your clit through the fabric, and you desperately wish the thin layer wasn’t there.

“Working so hard for me,” he coos, talking directly into your pussy, “you deserve a little treat.”

You want to protest that you’d work hard even if he wasn’t there, but you’re not sure that’s true anymore. The only sound that leaves your mouth is a whine as his tongue ghosts over your clit.

The wet sounds that echo throughout the room fills you with embarrassment, and you’d be regretting it if it didn’t feel so damn good. You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Satoru’s just too skilled, his tongue pressing flat against your clit before flicking and you respond with a choked back whine.

It shouldn’t matter, you’ve crossed the line already. But there’s something about letting him hear you like this that sets your face ablaze.

Satoru’s fingers press against your folds through the fabric, spreading them apart before his tongue hones in on your clit. Each drag of his tongue draws shapes onto the bundle of nerves with intention. If you could think properly, maybe you’d be able to make out the letters, another confession of his love to you.

Only once your underwear is thoroughly soaked with a mix of his spit and your arousal, does he pull the fabric to the side. Your breath hitches at the sudden exposure, the cold air of the room fanning against your skin. The sensation doesn’t last long as Satoru’s face enthusiastically presses into your cunt. Everything about it is too much; the way his nose presses against your clit, his tongue lapping messily between your folds.

A finger slips in with little resistance around the ring of muscle and you can’t hold your moans back anymore.

“You like that?” he asks.

You give him a shy nod.

“Then lemme hear more of you,” he says, before planting his face back into your pussy.

The sounds get louder as he practically makes out with your pussy. Lips pressed against your clit before a sliver of tongue makes its way out, teasing you with a flick.

Satoru slips in another finger and you groan at the fullness. You knew his hands were large, you’ve felt them before countless times during your post-concert handshakes. Maybe you should’ve taken a longer look at them, analyzed them more thoroughly. The thought never crossed your mind that he would use them like this, knuckles deep into your cunt.

The way he explores your body scares you. How he knows where to press to get a reaction, how to hook his fingers to get you to lean into his touch. As if he absorbed anything and everything there is to know about you through your fleeting moments together. His fingers curl and hit a spot that has you weak in the knees, leaning back onto the counter to find balance.

“Wait, please,” you whine, high pitched and needy. It gets harder to keep your skirt up for him, legs weak from his ministrations.

“Hey, I said keep it up, didn’t I?” he pauses, taking a moment to look up at you from the ruffles.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, gorgeous. Just wanna see your face when you cum on my tongue.” With that, he goes back in, far more aggressive than before. His fingers move faster, drawing out wet squelches from your pussy with each pass. The noises he makes are far too lewd for your ears, slurping and groaning as he laps at your clit. This is more the Satoru you recognize, the one you saw earlier tonight. Satoru, who loses himself in the heat of the moment, who eats you out like a man starved.

It’s obvious you’re close with how much your legs tighten. Satoru senses this too, his pace intensifying to get you there.

“Let it all out for me sweetie,” he pants into your cunt between flicks of his tongue. That winding coil in your core snaps and the grip around your skirt tightens as you cum on his tongue. You can’t hold your moans back, letting them messily spill from your mouth as a warm pleasure rushes through your body.

Satoru doesn’t stop, even after the moans have left your body and your muscles have started to relax again. Your heart races at the realization that he wants more.

“Please, please, please, it’s too much-”

“It’s okay, I know you can do it,” he coos, far too sweetly for what he’s asking for you,“lemme give you another, ok?”

Your legs tremble, muscles spasming as his tongue works around your clit in earnest, swirling around the nub as his fingers continue to press against your g-spot. He doesn’t relent when you hand grips onto his hair – if anything it encourages him to go harder. Whatever it takes to get you closer to clenching around his fingers and moan for him in that saccharine voice of yours.

And it works – almost hurts when you cum around his fingers a second time without so much a break. You can’t stop yourself from moaning his name, nearly on the same level of adoration he gives you during your concerts. Satoru seems to be getting a kick out of it, his breathing becoming more labored the more you call for him.

When he takes his fingers out, you wince at the feeling, still sensitive from your orgasms. Your legs threaten to give out on you, but Satoru’s quick to wrap his hand around your waist.

“You did so good for me,” he rushes in to kiss you, and the taste of melon soda barely lingers. You taste yourself– a bit bitter and salty–on his lips, on his tongue when you open and entice him to take you.

Satoru pulls on the elastic of your skirt, raising it up until it’s past your waist. The hem of your skirt now barely covers your exposed pussy, the ruffles brushing it against it as you shift.

He turns and bends you over the vanity, the mirror’s lights shining brightly in your face. It’s not that far off from stage lighting — white rings reflected back in your pupils as you stare back at your reflection.

“You know how cute you are?” he whispers into your ear, so close you can feel the warmth from his words. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

You can’t exactly look back to see it, but you feel it. Something solid pressed against you, wrapped in the cotton of his pants, sliding in between your wet folds. It only takes a moment for him to free himself from the confine of fabric, to feel something hot and heavy and real pushing against you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this,” he says, cockhead sitting on top of your folds. Just feeling you, skin to skin, earns a visceral reaction from him. He can’t stop himself from moaning at the warmth of your cunt, even when it’s just the tip sinking in.

Satoru savors every moment of pushing himself into you, hands shaking as he searches to hold yours. The sound you let out once he bottoms out is foreign to your ears. It stretches you out so much you regret not turning around to get a good look at it.

Satoru starts slow, but you can feel the restraint in his movements. A languid roll of his hips as he fucks into you, littering your neck with kisses. You attempt to tell him not to bite, but all you can let out is a sweet moan when he does.

The drag of his cock against your walls is dangerously addictive, like you could be hooked on this forever. And though it feels good, it’s not enough. His strokes are teasingly slow, as if he wants you to ask for more.

Again, Satoru stumps you by showing how much self control he has. If his wotagei was anything to go off of, you were expecting something frenzied and manic. But you do see a part of his passion reflected in his actions. In the way his words leave his tongue, honeyed and sweet. In the way he fucks you with a tenderness you weren’t sure he would ever be capable of.

“Feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm,” you nod, attempting to hold your voice back from sounding any lewder.

Satoru’s eyes watch over you through the reflection, corners of his lips upturned as you lose yourself into him, voice nothing but dulcet moans. A rush of red rises to his cheeks, making him burn brighter than before.

“God, you’re going to be the end of me,” Satoru groans, his chest pressing against your back until there’s no space left between your bodies, the heat radiating off of him making it feel like you’re melting. With the way he’s rolling his hips into you, you might as well be. Each drag of his cock makes you dizzy, makes you wish you threw your ideals to the side far sooner.

It just feels too good; part of you wonders if this is how lovers do. Maybe not in this particular location or situation, but in the way his hand reaches over to yours. Fingers finding each other and intertwining once again, as if this was always the way it was meant to be. Something drums up in your heart – you don’t want to let go. Desire unfurls in your chest and you want to live in the moment, but you also wish you could bottle it up and save it forever, especially when his soft lips gently kiss your neck before biting to leave yet another mark.

As sweet as it is, you think you’re getting a bit greedy. You want to see more, want to see the Satoru you’ve come to appreciate in all his frenzied affection. With the way he’s moving so slow, he has to be testing you, right? A way to make you say the magic words just so he can hear them, the tone and pitch of your voice, the way you enunciate every syllable so sweetly, commit them to memory. Or maybe he thinks you can’t handle it, in which case, you want to show him you can. A way of thanking him for his years of support.

You don’t do it on purpose – you just can’t help it, looking at him all doe-eyed and a slight pout to your lips. “S-Satoru, harder,” you whine, and something breaks in him. Any ounce of self control goes out the window as soon as you mutter those words.

“Whatever you say, princess,” he mewls, arms wrapping around your lower waist.

His fingers search for your clit, flipping through the layers of ruffles before pressing onto the bud. Within moments he’s playing with it like it’s all he’s ever known, until he has you whining and wincing from his touch. Drawing rough shapes around the bundle of nerves until your muscles squeeze around him.

He starts fucking into you harder, the sound of skin slapping far too loud to ignore. Your hand grips onto his harder, skin balmy from the sweat and heat emanating from both of you.

“You like that, princess?” he asks in a huff, barely able to contain his lust.

All you’re able to let out is a whimper and a nod, and Satoru takes it as a sign to continue.

You don’t recognize yourself in the reflection, tiara crooked, stage outfit unkempt, the debauched expressions you make as your number one fan fucks you senseless. But it doesn’t matter – there’s only one thing on your mind at this very moment, that hot tension in your stomach rapidly rolling towards its peak.

“S-Satoru, I’m, I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum for me,” Satoru growls breathily into your ear, gently kissing the shell before continuing, “let it all out just for me.”

When your climax washes over you, it’s far more intense than the others he’s given you tonight. Legs trembling as pure bliss rushes throughout your body, even as Satoru continues fucking you through it. It’s too much, moaning his name as a way to talk yourself through it. Every part of you is warm and fuzzy as pleasure runs its course.

Satoru isn’t far behind, he’d probably want this to last longer but he just can’t – not with the way your walls clench and squeeze around him. With a few more strokes he’s burying himself deep into you, huffing and panting as he empties hot, white ropes of his seed into you.

It takes a moment to peel away from him, and the second you do, he’s quick to tighten his grasp around you, to hold you in your arms just a bit longer.

Satoru gives you a kiss on the cheek, something gentle and chaste.

“Did you like your present?”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #cw.dubcon #sen writes #sen fics #s.jjk #idoltalk

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 30 days ago

Text

LMLY

Choi Y/N hasn’t seen her long lost best friend Yoon Jeonghan in four years and doesn’t even recognize him at first when paramedics roll him into the OR after a motorcycle accident during her shift. She kind of expects to go back to being total strangers as soon as he’s discharged, but Seungcheol has other plans in mind for them when he asks them to be Best Man and Maid of Honor for his wedding.

Pairing: Jeonghan x female reader; mentions of Joshua x female reader

Genres: fluff; angst; smut; best friends to strangers to lovers; wedding au

Word count: 45k

TW/CW: MDNI, contains smut with no mention of protection mentioned (be safe please!!), mentions of the following: alcohol and food, some tough family dynamics such as divorce, a lot of marriage and wedding talk, having children, depression, manipulative relationships, quite a few details about accidents and subsequent medical procedures and issues. (If any of these concern you and you have questions about the extent to which something is mentioned, please feel free to send me a message.)

A/N: The way these characters are written in no way indicates reality as this is entirely a work of fiction. Please forgive any inaccuracies about medical issues and the medical field in general. I did quite a bit of research in preparation for this fic, but I have zero personal experience in the field so do not take my word for anything!! This fic is the sequel to Calico. You technically do not need to read it to follow along with this fic, but there will be some references that will make this fic more enjoyable if you’ve read the prequel.

Recommended playlist: LMLY by Jackson Wang; Stolen Dance by Milky Chance; Lost in Nostalgia by The Maine

Act One

“Be honest. Would you tell me if you were practicing witchcraft?”

Y/N stared blankly at Joshua. “I think you’d know since we’ve lived together for 7 years. Have you ever caught me working on a spell at 3am or drawing pentagrams on our floors?”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed across the break room table. “You’re starting to sound an awful lot like someone that knows something about witchcraft.”

“And this is starting to feel like another witch hunt. This isn’t The Crucible, Joshua,” Y/N exhaled loudly. “Why are you accusing me this time?”

“The curse of threes!” Joshua cried. A tired nurse grumbled from one of the break room couches and Joshua mumbled a ‘sorry’. “My date last night was terrible!” He adopted a whisper yell.

Y/N hummed. “What was it this time?”

Joshua huffed, “Well, for starters she was late, which is whatever. Things happen. But then she was rude to the waitress the whole time. You know I can’t stand that after waiting tables as long as I did. And then she chewed with her mouth open the whole time and straight up slurped her drink.” Y/N mumbled a sympathetic, ‘gross’, which had Joshua yelling again. “I know! Disgusting.”

“I’m sorry, but I fail to see what I have to do with that, Shua,” Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a bite of salad. The two of them often ate lunch together when they were on the same shift. It’s what they would do back home in their apartment where they’ve been roommates for years. Conveniently, they’re on the same shift tonight and popped into the cafeteria for something to eat in between patients. Joshua is an emergency room physician with a shiny new license as of this year. Y/N is still a resident training under Dr. Hwang, one of the most renowned surgeons in the country. It’s sheer luck that Y/N got that placement three years ago, and Dr. Hwang is kind of a hard ass, but he’s hands down the best to learn from.

“You’ve cursed us,” Joshua insists. “Only Mingyu has survived past the third date and it’s all your fault.”

“No, no! This is karma at work. And Mingyu shouldn’t have made it past date number two but Harin is just too sweet of a person to tell him that,” Y/N reminded, wagging a finger. Joshua scoffs, reaching out to grab it.

“We’ve said we’re sorry for nearly a decade. When will it be enough?”

Joshua is referring to the time that he and a number of other guys tried to ruin Y/N’s life. Y/N had been quite the prolific serial dater back in college and it had hurt enough mens’ feelings to make them seek revenge. Even years later, they still experienced what they unaffectionately called the ‘curse of threes’ and blame her entirely for it. Y/N didn’t take it seriously and believed it was just one big case of confirmation bias. They were seeing what they wanted to see because they still had a guilty conscious.

“It seems that the universe says no, it hasn’t been enough,” Y/N teased. “I don’t want to jinx it, but I think they’ve finally forgotten about setting us up though.”

This lightens Joshua’s mood and he laughs. “Yeah, it’s a record. Five whole months of no blind dates.”

Their friends had got it into their head years ago that she and Joshua would make a good pair. They got along on most things and when they didn’t they bickered like an old married couple. Their friends had tried numerous times over the years to set them up, but it hadn’t gone anywhere and it probably wouldn’t.

“When are you going to get back out there? It’s been years since you’ve been on a date that you weren’t forced to go on or that wasn’t with me. Or both,” Joshua asked.

“Joshua, you know I’m too busy. I’m not really interested in adding anything to my plate.”

Joshua rolls his eyes because he’s heard that excuse before. He’s about to snap back when both of their pagers go off. Abandoning their lunches, they hustle out of the break room.

The charge nurse met them in the hallway. “What is it?” Joshua asked calmly, though they’re both tense and waiting.

“Motorcycle accident. No helmet apparently. Paramedics suspect internal bleeding. ETA about two minutes,” the nurse says quickly. She’s experienced and Y/N can tell. You don’t react this nonchalantly if you haven’t seen this sort of thing everyday for years.

“Has anyone called Dr. Hwang yet?” Y/N asked. As a resident, she was limited in what she could do without him present, and he was on call tonight while she was here.

“Yep. He’s on his way but he said you can assist Dr. Hong until he gets here,” the nurse said.

The doors to the ER fly open and paramedics are rushing a gurney in. Things move fast from that point. There’s some blood, and the paramedics are talking about rapid heart rate and low blood pressure. Y/N follows Joshua into the OR immediately because it’s looking like that’s where they’ll need to be shortly anyway and there’s more room and equipment to handle the complications that may come up until then.

“Do we have an ID yet?” One of the nurses asks.

“A Yoon Jeonghan, according to the ID in his pocket,” one of the paramedics answers. Joshua and Y/N both freeze. Y/N is staring at the patient now. How could she not recognize her childhood best friend through a little blood? “Y/N,” Joshua snaps. “Lock in and think about this later. I need your help.”

Y/N follows every instruction that Joshua gives her including starting CPR at one point. Her hands ache by the time a heartbeat comes back and she doesn’t have time to think about any of it right now. She’s relieved that Joshua is so cool under pressure because she’s doing everything she can to quell a panic attack that’s crawling up her throat.

“Internal bleeding is a definite,” Joshua says when the heart rate is somewhat steady again. Y/N looks at him blankly. “The bleeding around the eyes, nose, and ears. Skin is clammy. Abdomen is swelling. I think you and Hwang are going to have to go in and check it out.” Now Joshua has turned to a nurse to document his findings. “Internal bleeding likely. Looks like a broken wrist. Bad case of road rash. Concussion and whiplash are likely. After surgery, I want a fully body X-ray and MRI to make sure there’s nothing we’re missing.”

Y/N finds herself speaking before she can help it. “No contrast dye. He has an allergy.”

“Good to know,” Joshua said, gesturing to the nurse to write it down.

Dr. Hwang arrives and Y/N thinks her heart might beat out of her chest as she scrubs in. She’d like to think she’s usually cool under pressure, but this isn’t just anyone on the table tonight. Dr. Hwang is all business, talking fast as he gets started right away. They’re performing a thoracotomy, which is a fancy way of saying they need to check for internal bleeding around the lungs or heart, usually caused by broken ribs. And Jeonghan certainly has a few.

Dr. Hwang makes the first cut and Y/N has to suck back tears. She’s on autopilot as Dr. Hwang lets her take over after he finds the source of the bleeding. She carefully closes the source, praying she’s doing it right because her hands want to shake so badly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, logic tells her that Dr. Hwang wouldn’t wait a single second to correct her if she was doing something wrong. He must assume it’s nerves and he’s not totally wrong.

Then she’s stitching Jeonghan’s chest up and moving on to set his broken wrist while a couple nurses treat the road rash and lacerations that scatter his body. He’s surprisingly stable and Dr. Hwang and Joshua both comment on it. His heart rate is still elevated but his blood pressure as come up a little.

When Y/N finally steps out of the OR, she’s in a daze. She barely hears Dr. Hwang congratulate her as he passes by, patting her on the back. Not the way she expected to spend her night. She never thought she’d be saving her childhood best friend’s life.

Jeonghan wakes up to sunlight and it confuses him. Last he was aware, it was the middle of the night. What confuses him more is the way his body aches before he even moves. He can’t help but groan at the intensity of it. His sight is blurry, but he can make out an unfamiliar white tiled ceiling. His whole body screams as he lifts his head to look around. A hospital room?

He needs an explanation fast because he’s starting to panic. He hates hospitals. He presses the call button laying next to him half a dozen times and it feels like it takes an eternity for someone to come in. It’s a smiling nurse in blue scrubs. “Good to see you’re awake, Mr. Yoon.”

Normally, he’d try to be friendly, but he wants out of here pronto. “What happened? Why am I here and when can I go home?”

His throat is bone dry when he talks and she must be able to tell because she’s quickly holding a cup of water with a straw to his mouth. “You were in a motorcycle accident last night. I’m not sure how long you’ll be here for, but the doctors and surgeons were optimistic. Your surgery went surprisingly well given your injuries.”

He doesn’t feel like it went surprisingly well. He feels like he’s been run over by a truck, which… okay, not far from the truth, from the sounds of it. “When can I see a doctor? I’d like to leave today.”

The nurse looks sympathetic but shakes her head firmly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Yoon. That’s probably unlikely. But I’ll let your doctors know you’re up and ready to chat. How would you rate your pain from 1-10?”

He wants to say 12, but it’ll keep him here longer for them to poke and prod him, so he bites his tongue and says 6. The nurse pats his hand. “I’ll bring you some pain medication.” He must doze off again, because he wakes up to the nurse hooking up his IV. She’s on her way out when she passes by someone else and that someone surprises him in the worst way.

“I think you owe me a drink, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan wants to groan. “Joshua? Didn’t realize you worked here now.”

Joshua is smiling ear to ear, wearing a pristine white coat with a stethoscope around his neck and everything. He’s the textbook image of a young doctor just out of med school. “Been here for years in one way or another, but I’m officially an ER doctor as of earlier this year.” Jeonghan knew that, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. He hated Joshua and he was pretty sure Joshua knew it.

“So, what’s the damage?” Jeonghan says, trying to keep it light. The morphine is kicking in and Jeonghan can sort of think again, but they’ll have to talk fast before it doesn’t too much.

Joshua whistled, flipping a page on his clipboard. “Not as bad as it could be. The big one is broken ribs causing internal bleeding in a lung. Broken wrist, concussion, whiplash, a serious case of road rash, and some nice cuts and bruises.”

“Not as bad as it could be, huh?” Jeonghan says dryly. “When can I leave?”

“We want to keep you for a few days at least to monitor any potential complications. Surgeons’ orders. Internal bleeding is a fickle thing. Sometimes it’s obvious like it was last night, but sometimes it’s pretty sneaky and we don’t want to send you home until we’re sure there’s nothing else. Plus, your pain is going to be worse over the next few days and we can help manage it here.” Joshua’s tone leaves little room for argument so Jeonghan sighs.

“I guess I owe the surgeon a drink too, huh?”

Joshua laughs but there’s something weird about it that makes Jeonghan raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do. Y/N worked hard on that. I saw it myself.”

Jeonghan’s heart skips a beat and he hates that Joshua can hear it on the monitor. “Y/N? What are you talking about?”

Joshua raises an eyebrow in entertainment. “She’s a general surgery resident here and was working last night. She helped stitch you back up inside and out.” Jeonghan cursed, flopping back onto the pillow and he’d punch Joshua if he could reach him because he’s laughing now. “Even Dr. Hwang was impressed with her work, which is saying something. You’re lucky to call her your best friend. Anyway, I’ll come back around later to check on you, but call if you need anything.”

Jeonghan covered his face, groaning. Could she even be called a best friend if they hadn’t talked in years?

Y/N wanted to do anything and everything besides go upstairs and see Jeonghan in the ICU. She was still feeling pretty raw about last night but she couldn’t exactly tell Dr. Hwang that when he waved her towards the elevator. It’s standard procedure to brief the patient about their surgery when they’re awake. She knows this and has done it hundreds of times now, but she just wanted any excuse to not walk into room 205.

Jeonghan is propped up in bed as he watches TV. Supposedly he’s been awake since about 10am and he looks incredibly alert at 4pm. He also looks like he’s not totally surprised to see her. Y/N wonders if Joshua had mentioned her when he visited earlier.

“Mr. Yoon, I’m Dr. Hwang and this is my resident, Dr. Choi. How are you feeling?”

“Could be worse, probably,” Jeonghan says lightly and Y/N has to resist the urge to slap him. He’s always had a habit of avoiding taking things seriously, and laying in the hospital bed after emergency surgery last night classifies as a time to be serious.

Nevertheless, Dr. Hwang appreciates the humor and laughs. He always likes the patients that can crack a joke because most of the job is pretty doom and gloom. “That’s good to hear. Well, I know Dr. Hong has already stopped by to see you. But we did your surgery last night when you came in and we wanted to give you a rundown of what happened and what’s happening next. You had some pretty severe internal bleeding in one of your lungs so we had to perform a thoracotomy, which means we had to open up the chest cavity to find the source of the bleeding and stop it. It was touch and go for a while but I’m very impressed with how quickly you stabilized. That being said, we want to keep you for a bit for observation and do a few more tests to make sure there’s nothing sneaky happening before we send you home.”

Jeonghan sighed. “I’d love to get out of here but I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

Again, Dr. Hwang must find him funny. “I don’t have a pretty medical degree for nothing. But it was actually Dr. Choi that made the decision. She’s got the steadiest hands of any resident I’ve ever trained, but she’d like to check your stitches and rebandage you while she’s here.”

Y/N is so surprised by both the compliment and unplanned bandage check that she doesn’t react much when Dr. Hwang dismisses himself as his pager goes off. That leaves Y/N alone with Jeonghan and her temper is flaring fast. She approaches the bed, ignoring Jeonghan when he calls her name questioningly. The clipboard in Y/N’s hand slams down on the foot of the bed. “Yoon Jeonghan, what the fuck were you thinking? Speeding on a motorcycle with no helmet? Do you realize how bad that could have been?!”

Jeonghan’s eyes are wide. “Y/N, I can explain…” She knows she’s never yelled at him like this, but this moment feels appropriate because it’s the first time she’s ever had a good reason to.

“Can you explain how my heart nearly fell out of my ass when I realized it was you on the operating table? Or how I had to do CPR to keep you alive for nearly ten minutes? Do you have any idea how scared I was? And don’t even get me started on the surgery. I never ever wanted to see your lungs and heart.” Y/N is biting back tears because it would be entirely unprofessional to cry right now. But she’s known Jeonghan since she was in diapers and she’s probably going to have nightmares for a long time about last night.

“Y/N, I’m okay, both Joshua and Dr. Hwang said so…” Jeonghan tries to soothe but it doesn’t have much of an effect. Y/N is too worked up now.

“Do you realize you could have been decapitated? Or had a traumatic brain injury? Or a spinal cord injury? Do you realize how lucky you are to even be alive and alert right now? And I had the absolute displeasure of calling your mother at 5am to tell her where you were. That poor woman was hyperventilating.”

“You called my parents?” Jeonghan asked.

“Of course I did,” Y/N hissed. “I called Seungcheol and Sora too.”

“What?! Why would you call Sora? I don’t want to see her,” Jeonghan’s breathing catches in an unnatural way and it gives Y/N pause.

“Why don’t you want to see your girlfriend of 5 years?”

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Jeonghan snapped but there’s something weak about it. “If she shows up, turn her away.”

“Okay…” Y/N drawls out. “We can come back to that. Now answer me, why the fuck were you riding without a helmet? Or speeding?”

“I was in a hurry,” Jeonghan mumbled.

Y/N runs a hand down her face. “That’s such a piss poor excuse, Jeonghan. I’m so mad at you I can’t even look at you.”

“Then don’t! You haven’t in four years,” Jeonghan snapped. The heart monitor was beeping faster.

“I haven’t? What about you? The phone works both ways,” Y/N bit. She was about to say something else when she notices beads of sweat beginning to drip down his forehead. He was starting to become pale. “Hold on, how are you feeling right now?” He scoffs angrily and Y/N is in front of him in seconds, reaching out to him. “Talk to me, Hannie.” He doesn’t. Or he can’t. His breathing is catching. Y/N moves quickly, pulling up open his gown to see that the gauze is soaking through with bright red. She presses the call button and starts yelling.

This time, Dr. Hwang doesn’t let her help when they roll Jeonghan into the OR. She’s too busy standing outside of the elevator looking down at blood smeared hands to really fight him on it. Dr. Hwang had warned her early on that sometimes these kinds of moments would catch you off guard and it was best to hand it over to someone that could act quickly and with a clear mind. She washes her hands a few times, scrubbing underneath her nails to try to get rid of the red. Then she sits in the break room. A couple hours later, that’s where Dr. Hwang finds her. His smile is surprisingly kind for being such a hard ass. “How are you doing, kid?”

“Okay. How’s Jeonghan?”

“I think he’ll be okay. We must have missed another spot in his lungs. It was microscopic really, so it was a slow bleeder. I did a few good once-overs while I was in there to make sure there weren’t others.” Y/N sighs in relief at his words. “You did a good job, kid. You noticed the signs and reacted quickly. Don’t take this too hard. I’ve been practicing for nearly 20 years and I missed that spot too.”

“I kind of wish you’d go back to being a hard ass. I’m not sure how to take your compliments,” Y/N chortles, but it’s weak. This is the man that has yelled in her face in the OR and snatched tools out of her hand when he’s not pleased with how she’s doing something. He’s called her all kinds of names and told her to not bother coming back tomorrow in the heat of the moment. The compliments warm her if only because they’re so rare from him.

“No, you deserve the compliment today. I’ll be a hard ass again tomorrow,” Dr. Hwang adopts a teasing tone. “Anyway, I came to find you because someone claiming to be your brother is here. Says he’s also here for Jeonghan… you should have told me you knew him.”

“Would it have mattered?” Y/N asks, though she already knows the answer. It makes you less objective if you know the patient personally.

“You know it would,” Dr. Hwang admonished, finally sitting down next to her. “How do you know him?”

Y/N bit her lip. “We grew up together. We were best friends for most of our lives until we drifted a few years ago. I didn’t even recognize him until the paramedics said his name. It felt like it was too late to back out then because Joshua needed the help.”

Dr. Hwang hums. “I get it. But say something next time. I wouldn’t have asked you to assist on the first surgery if I’d known that. Now go see your brother and then go home. You’ve been here too long.”

Y/N finds Seungcheol sitting in the ICU waiting room. He pops up out of his chair as soon as he spots her. “What the hell happened?”

Y/N feels so worn out by now so she sits down and he joins her again. “He was in a motorcycle accident. Speeding without a helmet.”

Seungcheol curses under his breath. He looks afraid, much like Y/N has been feeling for nearly 24 hours. “How is he?”

“The worst of his injuries was internal bleeding. We patched him up last night but it seems like we missed a spot because we had to roll him back into surgery earlier this afternoon. Sounds like he’ll be okay though.”

“We?” Seungcheol is wide eyed. “You helped with his surgeries?”

“The first one. Dr. Hwang made me sit out on the second one.”

“Jesus… Y/N, are you okay?”

That’s not a question you get asked here often. You’re expected to be poised and put together the whole time. Responding calmly and rationally is an absolute job requirement and you deal with everything else off the clock. So she blinks away tears because she doesn’t want to react this way in front of any of her colleagues who might pass by. “Yeah. He’s okay, so I’m okay. What took you so long to get here? I called earlier this morning.”

Seungcheol huffs. “New secretary. She didn’t tell me until about an hour ago that you’d called and left a message. I’ve been in meetings all day with my phone off so I missed your calls and texts there. Who else have you called?”

Y/N sighed. “I called his mother, but his parents are in Japan so they haven’t been able to make it back yet. And I called Sora… but Jeonghan said he didn’t want to see her. Any idea what that’s about?”

Seungcheol doesn’t look surprised. “Oh yeah. They broke up last week. Very messy, especially since they lived together.”

“Oh.”

Now Seungcheol looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you that when you spoke to him? Or has he been asleep most of the day?”

“No, he was alert most of the day, but… we argued, so he wasn’t very forthcoming with information.”

“Argued?” Seungcheol breathed, concern pinching his face. “That doesn’t happen often.” He’s right. It’s never happened. In 30 years of knowing each other, today was the first fight they’d ever had. There had been a time or two that things were awkward and they had to talk it out, but they’d never argued. The memory of it makes Y/N’s chest ache.

“How long have you been here?” Seungcheol asked.

“I don’t know, since midnight last night?”

Seungcheol stood. “Are you free to go? I’ll drive you home and come back.”

There’s something firm in his eyes and Y/N knows she can’t argue. If she does, Dr. Hwang or Joshua will order her an uber and send her home anyway. So she goes to the locker room and gathers her things. Seungcheol lets her enjoy the silence during the car ride and promises to call her if anything comes up with Jeonghan.

She falls asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow but she dreams of seeing blood on her hands. It’s one of those dreams where you wake up and try to clear your mind, but when you go back to sleep you’re right where you left off again. Eventually, she gives up and watches TV.

Jeonghan is pissed. Has been since he woke up in the hospital bed again. He’s hooked up to a few more machines now and the nurses are still refusing to let him leave. They’re also refusing to give him anything to eat quite yet and he’s the hungriest he thinks he’s ever been. All of that would piss him off, but Seungcheol’s lecture starts as soon as he opens his eyes and he wants to go back to sleep immediately. But his morphine has worn off and the nurse hasn’t come back yet with more.

“I cannot believe you would do something like that. That’s so dangerous, man. What were you thinking?”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrow at his friend. “I was thinking,” he snaps, “that I was in a hurry and I forgot my helmet.”

“That’s stupid, Han,” Seungcheol admonishes and he knows he’s right. But Jeonghan is stubborn and beyond pissed to still be here. “You call someone else for a ride, or at the very least go speed limit. You should have seen Y/N’s face. This wrecked her.”

Jeonghan scoffs. “Sure it did. Haven’t seen her or spoken to her in 4 years and the first thing she does is hang it over my head that she saved my life.”

“And maybe she should. Imagine if roles were reversed and she needed your help after she did something reckless,” Seungcheol seethes. Jeonghan doesn’t have much to say to that because thinking about roles being reversed makes his chest hurt more than it already does. Seungcheol sighs. “Okay, lecture over for now. How are you feeling?”

“Not great. But I’d like to get out of here ASAP. You know I hate hospitals.”

“Well it sounds like you better get comfy for a few more days. I heard they have to keep you for observation, especially after they found the second spot of internal bleeding,” Seungcheol smarts.

“Wish I could eat something. I’m starving,” Jeonghan all but whined.

“Yeah, but you won’t be able to keep anything down if you’re taking pain medication. Better to wait.”

Jeonghan hated how logical that was because his stomach growled for the third time since he’d woken up. He stared back at the TV which is playing some kind of sitcom reruns. “So you spoke to Y/N?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I drove her home earlier. She’d been here since midnight last night, approaching 24 hours,” Seungcheol says and Jeonghan’s chest twinges again. He knows she works some weird, long hours due to the nature of her job, but he hates that he was the cause of it this time. “Han, she said that you guys fought. Has that ever happened before?”

Jeonghan frowns. Now that she’s not here, he feels guilty for how he snapped at her. She was upset because she was concerned, and he threw the distance between them in her face. And then there was the panic on her face that he could sort of make out as his vision faded. “No, never. It sucked.”

“Did you say something you regret?” Seungcheol asked carefully. He knew they weren’t close anymore like they used to be but he wasn’t sure how to navigate any animosity between the two people closest to him. It was totally unheard of.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan mumbles. “She said she was so mad she couldn’t look at me, and I told her not to because she hadn’t in 4 years anyway. She said that the phone worked both ways or something, but I don’t remember much after that.”

“I don’t get you two,” Seungcheol said simply. Jeonghan gives him a confused look and Seungcheol continues. “You guys have been inseparable since we were babies. I always kind of felt like the third wheel with you guys because you were always so close. And then we graduate and Y/N goes to med school and neither of you can make time for each other anymore after being glued to each others’ side for 25 years? I don’t get it.”

“What’s there to get? The phone calls and texts slowed and then stopped completely. We both bailed on too many plans,” Jeonghan says sadly. He feels like he’s getting a bit of a headache. Joshua had said that might happen because of his concussion. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“Well, you guys are going to have to get over it soon.”

Jeonghan gave him a look. “Why? Because she saved my life, you think we’ll start using the phone again?”

Seungcheol looks a little bit like the Cheshire Cat. “No. Because we have a wedding to plan.”

Jeonghan gasped even though it hurt a ton. “She said yes?”

Seungcheol laughs. “Yeah, a few days ago. Byeol wanted to do a formal announcement so I couldn’t say anything quite yet. But it goes without saying you’ll be the best man and Y/N will be the maid of honor. So you guys better figure this out.”

Jeonghan can’t think about spending that much time with Y/N because he has no idea how he feels about it right now. Instead he smiles. “I’m happy for you, Cheol. I told you she’d say yes.”

“You were right. I’m sorry I doubted you,” Seungcheol laughed again. After a beat of silence, Seungcheol pursed his lips awkwardly. “You and Y/N will work it out, won’t you? I’m not trying to guilt trip you, especially since you’re laying in a hospital bed right now. But it would mean a lot to both Byeol and I if you two were involved and could be civil.”

“Yeah, Cheol. Of course, we will.” Jeonghan hopes it’s not an empty promise.

A couple days later, Y/N finds herself outside of room 205 again. She hesitates to knock. Dr. Hwang and Joshua both say that Jeonghan is stable but she feels guilty for their argument and how it might have added stress for him. She knows the internal bleeding would do what internal bleeding does, but she feels like she made it all worse by blowing up at him. But she couldn’t tell Dr. Hwang that when he asked her to cover some of his rounds. After a deep breath, she knocks and enters. A nurse is helping Jeonghan get back in bed after what looks like a sponge bath. “Dr. Choi, I was just about to go looking for someone. He has some symptoms that he’d like to discuss,” the nurse says before excusing herself.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Y/N asks professionally. After the emotional conversation a couple days ago, she’s determined to maintain composure.

Jeonghan frowns. “I’ve had a headache for days now, nausea, and I’m disoriented a lot of the time even when I’m laying down.”

Y/N nods. “Could be the concussion or pain medication, or a little of both. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rank each symptom?”

“Headache is a 7, nausea is a 9, and disorientation is a 5.”

Y/N wants to laugh. He’s answering these questions like a pro, and she wonders if it’s because she’s demanded straight forward answers like this from him his whole life, particularly when he’s been sick. A lot of patients want to tell a story before they ever give a number. “What’s your pain level? We might try a different pain medication.”

He hums and she can tell he wants to shrug but he resists because it will probably hurt. “A 4?”

“That’s an improvement. Let’s try some NSAIDs today instead of morphine and see how you do. Can I take a look at a few things?” She asks, stepping up to the bedside. Jeonghan lets her shine a light in his eyes and put a stethoscope to his back to listen to his lungs. He doesn’t have a fever when she pushes his hair back and runs a thermometer across his forehead. She looks at the monitor by the bedside and is pleased with the heart rate and blood pressure. “Mind if I check the bandage?” Jeonghan lays back and lets her pull his gown apart at the top. The bandage is pristine and white and she can’t help but sigh in relief. The stitches look okay too when she peels the bandage away. “Looks good.”

“Why do you look so nervous?” Jeonghan teased. The lightheartedness of it makes her lips turn up at the corners as she tapes the bandage down again and closes his gown.

“You almost died on me again the other day, so forgive me if I’m relieved to not see any blood today.” She does her best to match his lighthearted tone, but she can still picture what he looked like that night he was rolled in on a gurney and what he looked like the other day when blood was soaking the bandage.

Jeonghan’s smile dips a little. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll try not to do it again.” Y/N has to laugh a bit at this.

“You better try not to. Good news is, if your test results keep coming back the way they are right now, you should be able to go home in two or three days. We think you’re probably out of the woods as far as internal bleeding goes.”

“And when can I eat?”

The question makes her laugh again. “I’ll talk to Joshua and Dr. Hwang and see if we can get you something. It’ll be bland but it’ll be better than nothing, I promise.”

“I don’t even care anymore if it’s bland. I’ve been starving for days.”

They’re laughing when the door flies open and a woman runs in. “Jeonghan, I came as soon as I could! Are you okay?”

Jeonghan’s not laughing now. His eyes level with Y/N’s and they’re hard. “I thought I told you not to let her in.” Sora has pushed Y/N out of the way now, leaning over the edge of the bed, reaching for Jeonghan. Despite the pain he’s probably in, Jeonghan is leaning away from her, wincing as he pushes her back. “Stop it, Sora. Why are you here?”

Sora sputters. “Because you were in an accident. Someone called me.”

“Days ago. I’ve been here for days, Sora. Besides, I don’t want you here. Leave.”

“Oh come on, Hannie,” Sora scoffs. “It was just a stupid fight. We can work it out like we always do.”

“No thanks. I want you out of my apartment by the time they discharge me, so you should go take care of that,” Jeonghan insists. Then he turns to Y/N. “Can you get her out of here? And make sure she can’t come back in?”

Sora’s just now realized who’s in the room with them and her face drops into a sneer immediately. “Oh, absolutely not. Call another doctor right now.”

Y/N isn’t surprised by the animosity. Sora has never really been her biggest fan, not even back in college when Y/N was her big in the sorority. Y/N tries to stay even and professional. “No can do. I’m part of his care team. Now he’s asked you to leave, so I’ll walk you out.”

It takes a few glances between Y/N and Jeonghan before Sora seems to realize she’s not winning today. She scoffs and stomps out of the room and Y/N follows, thinking she kind of resembles a child throwing a temper tantrum. Y/N closes the door to Jeonghan’s room behind them and Sora wheels in her immediately. “How dare you? You try to ruin everything, don’t you?”

Y/N struggles to stay relaxed but her arms cross over her chest uncomfortably. “By ruining everything, do you mean stitching him back up and saving his life?”

“I was so glad to be rid of you, but here you are worming your way in again,” Sora yells. “You haven’t changed at all since college. Still taking whoever you want, including my boyfriend.”

“Sora, I don’t know what’s happened between you two, but I know I had nothing to do with it because I haven’t spoken to him in years until a few days ago when he was brought in. Whatever happened between you two is none of my business. But you showing up when he doesn’t want you here is.”

Y/N sees a security guard barreling down the hall after hearing Sora’s yelling. Fits of anger aren’t unusual here, but security responds quickly to it to keep the peace for struggling patients and families. He pulls Sora away by the waist just as she starts to lunge. She watches as the security guard gets Sora into the elevator, before going over to the phone at the nurses station. She’s dialing the front desk when Joshua approaches looking concerned. “Are you okay? What was that about?”

“I’m fine, angry ex-girlfriend apparently,” Y/N mumbles. She ignores Joshua’s question of ‘ex?’ Because the receptionist downstairs has answered. “This is Dr. Choi. Please do not allow Lee Sora back in to see Yoon Jeonghan, room 205. He says she’s not welcome.” Once she gets confirmation, she hangs up.

Joshua is still looking very concerned. “Since when are they exes? They’ve been together for years.”

Y/N shrugged. “I wish I could tell you. Anyway, I think we should switch Jeonghan to NSAIDs and let him eat something.”

Slowly, Joshua nods. “Okay, I believe you. I’ll get it started, but we’re talking about this later. You’re having quite the week.” Y/N looks at the clock as Joshua walks away. 10 more hours of her shift to go.

Y/N and Seungcheol sit at Jeonghan’s dining room table. This is her first time being here in his apartment. Seungcheol says he’s lived here for a few years now, but they didn’t exactly do a tour of the place today. Jeonghan came home from the hospital and it was a chore to get him settled in. Jeonghan’s parents had visited briefly the other day but Y/N hadn’t been surprised to find out that they didn’t stick around. He’d never been terribly close with them, particularly after he went to college. Once his parents saw that he was very much alive and heard that Y/N and Seungcheol were going to be around, they said they had some things to attend to back home.

So Seungcheol had taken the day off to bring him home and get him settled and he’d asked for Y/N’s assistance since she had the day off as well. It felt weird in so many ways. The first was to have all three of them back together. In some ways, they went back to how they’d always been, but there was a tinge of awkwardness when Y/N didn’t know what was happening lately with Jeonghan or vice versa. Seungcheol had done is best to smooth it over.

And it felt really awkward to sit in Jeonghan’s sleek, expensive apartment that she’d never been to. She’d noticed that Sora had indeed moved out. There were big gaps throughout the apartment that implied she’d emptied everything that was hers, and maybe even some that weren’t too. The missing gaming console was the least of Jeonghan’s worries right now though.

Seungcheol and Y/N are eating together and catching up. Y/N might talk to her brother regularly, but they don’t get to see much of each other. She’s still surprised when Seungcheol drops a bomb.

“What do you mean, you’re getting married?!” It comes out as more of a screech and Seungcheol shushes her. Jeonghan had gone right to bed when they got here and it seemed he needed the rest.

“I mean, I proposed last week and Byeol said yes,” Seungcheol looked giddy.

“Last week?!” Y/N whisper yells. “Where was my phone call? Do you have a picture of the ring?” He seemed to anticipate that question, because he’s shoving his phone across the table. Y/N gasps. “How did you pick out something like this? Your taste is abysmal sometimes but this is so cool.”

Seungcheol scoffs, snatching back his phone. “My taste is not abysmal. Besides, Jeonghan helped. He’s got an eye for that sort of thing apparently.”

Y/N pouted. “Seriously, Cheol, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we agreed on no secrets.”

Seungcheol gives her a sympathetic look. “It’s not like that, I promise. Byeol just wanted to prepare a formal announcement. Given what’s been going on with you and Jeonghan lately, she let me tell you guys now.”

“But I didn’t even know you’d been ring shopping,” Y/N whined. “I would have loved to help.”

Seungcheol hesitates for a beat. “Jeonghan had already offered and I didn’t know if you two would want to run into each other… not that it matters considering what I’m about to ask.” Y/N raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Naturally, we want you and Jeonghan to be maid of honor and best man. I know that might be a lot to ask, given how you guys have been lately.”

“Of course, I’d love to be maid of honor!” Y/N cries out, hand on her chest.

“Okay, no tears please,” Seungcheol tries to soothe. “But are you sure? That means spending a lot of time with Jeonghan. I’m not sure where you guys stand right now…”

Y/N huffs. “I don’t know either, but I feel pretty confident that neither of us would jeopardize something as important as this. We both love you and Byeol too much to do that.”

“Good,” Seungcheol looks kind of smug. “That’s what Jeonghan said too.”

Y/N suppresses her surprise. “Oh, you’ve already talked to him about it?”

“Yeah, at the hospital. Look, I love you both and I understand things can change over time, but I wish it could be like it was before. Maybe this is a good opportunity to fix things.” Seungcheol sounds like he’s kind of pleading and it makes Y/N frown.

“I’m not even sure what’s broken. But, Cheol, you don’t have to worry about it. We’ll make sure to get along,” Y/N promises.

“Okay. And you’re sure you don’t mind helping him out over the next few weeks?”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course not. I’m used to the weird hours anyway. Just come relieve me so I can get some sleep every now and then.” That was another development. Seungcheol wouldn’t be able to avoid work completely and while he could do quite a bit remotely, there were some things he couldn’t avoid the office for. Y/N had some vacation time to use, so they’d decided to split staying with Jeonghan until he was a little more independent.

“If you insist. I should get back to Byeol, it’s late. But call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll be here right away.” With that, Seungcheol leaves. It shouldn’t be awkward to move around Jeonghan’s apartment but it is. She puts the leftovers in the fridge and throws away the trash. Then she decides to peek in on Jeonghan. She finds him awake in bed, watching TV.

“Doing okay?”

Jeonghan shrugs and winces. “Fine, I guess. At least I’m in my own bed now.” He eyes her carefully where she’s standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over her stomach. She’s never looked so awkward around him. “You know, I’m sure I can’t talk you into leaving to go home and rest, but the least you could do is relax a little if you’re going to stay.”

“I’m not good at that, Hannie,” Y/N laughs. “Besides, I don’t want to impose. I’m sure you need your space. I’ll just go out to the living room.”

“When have I ever needed space from you?” Jeonghan chuckles, patting the other side of the bed. That’s the type of thing he’d say 4 years ago. “Come on.”

Y/N is silent as she slowly walks around the bed and sits down against the headboard. Finally, she says, “Kind of funny that you’d say that, considering that it’s been a while.”

She hopes he doesn’t take offense to it and is relieved when he just frowns, looking back at the TV. “Yeah, kind of weird how easily it came out, isn’t it?”

Y/N watches the TV without really seeing it. “What happened to us?”

Jeonghan hums. “I can’t really tell you. It’s confusing to me too… and then there was a point that even if I did want to reach out, I didn’t know how to. Or didn’t know if you’d want me to.”

Y/N glances at him. He’s being serious, a rarity in their years of friendship. “Of course, I’d want you to. But I didn’t know how to either, so I get it. I thought about you a lot.”

Jeonghan eyes widen with surprise. “Did you?”

“Yeah. I asked Cheol about you all the time,” Y/N answers simply. He doesn’t need to know that it drove Seungcheol crazy, sometimes to the point of just insisting she hang up the phone and dial Jeonghan herself.

“Same,” he says, and her head snaps back to him. “I’m really proud of you, you know? I was even before this week, but it’s nice to see you doing something you always wanted to do. Plus, Dr. Hwang and Joshua were very complimentary.”

Y/N’s eyes water for reasons she can’t really identify right now. “Thanks, Hannie. That means a lot. For the record, I’m proud of you too. You’ve really climbed the corporate ladder, huh?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You hate it, if only because of where I work.” He’s right, of course. Jeonghan got a job at her father’s company shortly after graduation and Jeonghan knows all about how she feels about her father.

“I don’t hate it if you’re happy. There are just a lot of better people you can work for.” Y/N bites her lip. “Are you happy though? I mean, not just with work, but in general.”

He doesn’t answer for a long time. Finally he looks at her and she knows he’s about to be honest. Something about his eyes is completely unguarded. “Not really, no. I don’t think I have been for a while now.” Y/N doesn’t speak right away and Jeonghan continues. “The job is fine but it’s nothing I’m passionate about, and I’m not sure what I’d replace it with. I don’t see my family as often as I should, but they don’t ask me to visit either. And then Sora… well, that was a train wreck in slow motion.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Y/N offers openly.

Jeonghan laughs and there’s a bit do ingenuity to it. “Wasn’t that what I was just doing?”

Y/N sighs in exasperation. “You know what I mean. We were best friends once… I don’t know what you’d consider us now, but I’d still listen to you all the same.”

Jeonghan looks pensive. Instead of acknowledging the trauma dump that he just did, he bites his lip. “I’d still consider you my best friend, even if we haven’t been very good about it lately. Don’t tell Cheol he’s being replaced.” Y/N’s eyes are watering again despite his joke and Jeonghan shakes his head when she blinks the tears back. “Stop doing that. It’s okay to be upset.”

“I thought I was comforting you, not the other way around,” Y/N laughed but both her voice and her vision are getting watery. She kind of thinks maybe his eyes are too but she can’t be sure with how her vision clouds. She didn’t expect this conversation to flow the way it has. She expected him to turn her away and go back to being strangers as soon as he feels better.

“Fine, you can comfort me. Lie down.” She follows his instructions, sliding down to lay her head on the pillow. He grabs her wrist with his uninjured hand, pulling her arm to lay flat. And then he’s laying into her side. They used to cuddle like this as kids, and even as teenagers. His head buries in her neck and she can feel his sigh. Mindlessly, her hand comes up to his hair, softly combing through it. Another sigh and then he’s snoring. Y/N wants to laugh because that was so fast and she’s stuck here now, but she’s the most comfortable she’s been in a long time and she finds herself dozing off too.

The next few days pass quietly at Jeonghan’s apartment. Y/N has made herself comfortable. Jeonghan is improving by the day, but today is a big one. He’s out of bed and on the couch, albeit laying down. And Y/N is preparing some soup for him to eat. He was relieved that it wasn’t anymore plain oatmeal or plain broth and finally something with a little flavor to it. Y/N helps him to the dining table and sits the bowl of soup in front of him. He’d laughed at her when she joked that she’d spoon feed him, but he had ultimately refused insisting he’s not dying anymore. Y/N is sitting next to him, watching TV when he speaks up. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

She gives him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” She laughs. “I kind of do that for a living.”

“I know,” Jeonghan says. “That’s why I’m sorry. You aren’t getting to enjoy any of your days off.”

Y/N frowns. “I don’t want to hear that, Hannie. You know I’d be here at a moment’s notice if you needed me.”

“I know,” he answers in a small voice. “I just feel like I don’t deserve it after the way I let things go a few years ago. And then how I yelled at you the other day at the hospital, despite the fact that you’re part of the reason I’m still here at all.”

Y/N turns to him and slides the empty bowl away. Then she’s gripping his good hand as she gives him a firm look. “Don’t you dare say that again. We let things go, not just you. You did nothing but take care of me and look out for me for nearly 25 years as I made a fool of myself. A few years of distance and a single argument don’t negate any of that. Think of this as me paying back an IOU.”

“This is a lot to ask for an IOU,” Jeonghan tries to laugh but it gets caught in his throat. “I mean, I can’t do anything for myself really.”

“And I’ll help you until you don’t need it anymore and you kick me out,” Y/N insists.

“Man, you’re still so stubborn. How has Joshua put up with you for this long?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in amusement. “He loves me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Very in love with you,” Jeonghan teases, but there’s a little tension settling in his shoulders. His fingers twitch around hers.

Y/N scoffs. “Not you too. Nothing like that’s happening.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” Jeonghan says easily and Y/N feels her face light up. She hasn’t heard that nickname in years and it warms her whole body. The response startles her once she realizes what it is and she pulls her hand away.

“Are you still hungry? There’s plenty left.” Jeonghan nods and watches Y/N go back to the kitchen with the bowl. His eyes linger a while before he pulls them away. Things were the same in so many ways but so different in others.

Jeonghan wakes up sometime midday. He’s getting his days and nights mixed up and the only reason he’s getting out of bed slowly now is because he’s hungry again. It feels like he can’t eat enough. Y/N says that’s a good thing and that she would be more concerned if he didn’t have an appetite. He shuffles out to the living room to find Seungcheol on the couch with his laptop. While Y/N couldn’t exactly work from here, Seungcheol could and usually brought something with him to keep himself busy while Jeonghan slept. It kept him from using all of his leave time to help out. Sitting on the couch next to Seungcheol, he asks, “Where’s Y/N?”

Seungcheol gave him a look that had him rolling his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint, but she had to go back to work today. She’ll be back later, much much later, so you’re stuck with me for a while.”

“Okay then. Like that’s a bad thing,” Jeonghan chuckled, leaning back and propping his feet up on the coffee tables. It feels nice to not have to be totally horizontal for a change.

Seungcheol’s doing that secretive smile again. “Yeah, you like her company better. You always have. It’s okay to admit it.” Seungcheol stands. “And you’re lucky she cooked before she left. You know I can’t do much there.”

Jeonghan is practically salivating when Seungcheol hands him bowl of simple stir fry. “Finally, some real food!”

“Yeah, she figured you’d be excited about that,” Seungcheol laughs, plopping back down. “So, how’s being nursed back to health by your ex best friend?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Ex? I considered her my best friend the whole time. I just… wasn’t showing it very well.”

This seems to entertain Seungcheol. “So you guys have talked? Are things back to normal yet?”

Jeonghan plays with his food because despite his hunger, this topic makes his stomach roll a bit. “Yes and no?” Seungcheol gives him a puzzled look. “In a lot of ways, yes. The banter, the jokes, the taking care of each other. But something seems different and I don’t know what it is. Things seem… emotional now, if we acknowledge the distance for too long.”

Seungcheol hummed and shrugged. “I guess that makes sense. The situation that got you guys here isn’t exactly light either.” Jeonghan nods and tries to eat as silence falls over them. “Do you remember what we talked about our last semester of college?”

“You might need to be more specific,” Jeonghan chortled. “We’ve known each other a long time and talk about a lot of things.”

“After we fought - well, after I hit you, I guess.”

Jeonghan can’t quite look him in the eyes. He’s referring to one of the only tough times in their friendship. A baseless rumor had gotten started on campus that Y/N and Jeonghan had been sleeping together. Seungcheol had been furious and it resulted in a bloody nose and the silent treatment for Jeonghan. When they finally made up, they had to have a nerve wrecking conversation. Cheol had been his friend for a long time but even that was too open for Jeonghan looking back on it. Jeonghan tries to be casual. “What about it?”

“How do you feel now?”

Jeonghan glances to his friend, wondering if he really wants a genuine answer. “Are you going to hit me again?”

Seungcheol looks entertained by the question even though Jeonghan’s very serious. “No, you look like you can’t fight back much right now, so I’ll let it slide.”

Jeonghan swallows. “I feel the same, but it’s ten times more complicated than it was before.” Seungcheol nods because he gets it. He doesn’t need a rundown of why it’s complicated.

“Have you guys talked about working together for the wedding?” Seungcheol asks and Jeonghan nods. “How’d that go?”

“There won’t be any problems. We promise that.”

“Good. But for the record, I feel the same about that topic from senior year too. Do what you will with that.” Jeonghan doesn’t know what to say so he takes a huge bite of stir fry and lets Seungcheol get back to work.

Joshua looks entertained as he watches Y/N unpack and repack her suitcase with clean clothes that he washed today. “So how’s it going?” He sings and doesn’t stop smiling when she gives him a look.

“Fine. Thanks for doing my laundry, it helps a lot,” Y/N said genuinely. She would have been another couple hours if she’d had to do it herself.

Joshua shrugs from her bedroom door. “You know I don’t care to do it. But really how are things going?”

“He’s better. Moving around by himself and eating well. His injuries aren’t bothering him as much anymore,” Y/N lists off like they’re at work.

“I know all of that, Y/N. I got Dr. Hwang’s report from his follow up today,” Joshua still looks entertained. “I meant, how’s taking care of your ex best friend going?”

“The same as what it would be like to take care of my best friend, because that’s what he is.”

Joshua cries out, throwing himself on the bed dramatically. “I’m being replaced!”

Y/N has to laugh. “I kind of miss when you played things cooler than this. Besides, if anything, you replaced him first. He’s got at least 22 years of seniority on you,” she teased.

“It’s fine, I get it,” he gave a dramatic, fake sniffle, before it cleared to something serious. “Really, though. Is it awkward? Is it good? I’m dying to know.”

Y/N struggles to find the right words to describe it. “It feels the same as it always did most of the time. But then there have been 4 years of distance and sometimes I feel like we’re strangers. We both did quite a bit of growing up during that time.”

“And?” Joshua presses. She hates how he knew there was more.

“I don’t know, Joshua. It feels different. I missed him so much and now that he’s right there I don’t know how to act sometimes. I never worried about that before with him,” Y/N mumbles.

When she looks up, Joshua is frowning. “You’re insecure about it.” She gives him a perplexed look and he waves it off. “I know because I’ve seen that look on your face before. You gave me that look all the time when you weren’t sure how I felt or how to act.” Y/N frowns back at him. They don’t talk often outside of the occasional inside joke about how they met. They used to date, or ‘date’, Y/N guesses. Single quotes only because it was fake for Joshua the whole time. A mean trick to get back at her for her reckless dating habits. Looking back on it now, the Joshua that apologized and became her roommate and friend is a totally different Joshua than the one she met his first semester here. Y/N tries not to think about it because it still stings sometimes. They’ve all apologized dozens of times over the years and have been really great friends to her ever since so she should really stop feeling that little pang in her chest when it comes up.

“Of course, I’m insecure about it. I don’t understand why the distance happened in the first place and being around him reminds me that I could have been there the whole time.”

“Have you asked why it happened?” Joshua asked carefully. He remembered watching her hover over Jeonghan’s contact so many times before locking her phone entirely. He’d been curious about why she didn’t just call him, but she’d never given much of an answer.

Y/N shrugs. “Neither of us can really explain why. But then it reached a point where we didn’t know how to reach out or if the other even wanted that.”

Joshua purses his lips and says, “Maybe you just need a heart to heart. Even if it’s hard to talk about, you might feel better about getting all of it on the table.” Y/N doubts it but she doesn’t argue with Joshua.

She’s lying on Jeonghan’s couch later that night and he’s curled into her again. He’s not asleep despite it being the middle of the night. Instead, he’s got his head on her chest while he watches TV and she plays with his hair. The whole thing feels intimate like their friendship always did, especially before she started med school and he started dating Sora. She can’t help but giggle. “What?” He mumbles.

“I’m still not used to your hair being so short.” Jeonghan had always had long hair, often flat out refusing a haircut, and at some point during their time apart he’d chopped most of it off.

“What, you don’t like it?” To anyone else, it would sound teasing, but Y/N can hear that it’s a serious question with just a hint of insecurity to it.

“Oh no, I do. I think you look great with short hair, but I think maybe that’s why I almost didn’t recognize you that night in the ER. It’s still weird to see and feel,” Y/N insists.

Jeonghan is laughing, now fully teasing. “You think I’m handsome. It’s okay, you can say it.”

“Don’t make me push you off. It’ll hurt,” Y/N threatens but it’s totally empty. Nevertheless, his grip tightens around her waist because he knows she would have done it any other time without hesitation, just as he would have done.

They fall quiet - so long that when Y/N speaks again, she can tell she’s woken a dozing Jeonghan. “Hannie?” He grumbles. “Can I ask what happened with you and Sora?”

“Not much to say,” he says shortly. “It wasn’t going to work out.”

“But, it worked out for so long. Do you just wake up and decide one day that it won’t work anymore?”

She hopes Jeonghan knows it’s a genuine question. Y/N has never had anything long term, so everything about it perplexes her. It’s not six months, but rather five years. He sighs into her chest and she can feel the heat of it through her shirt. “Not just one day, no. It was kind of like watching it fall apart day by day. Each fight got harder and harder to recover from. What was overnight was the realization that I didn’t want to try to fix it anymore.”

“Do you love her? Or did you?” Y/N really wants Jeonghan to be honest.

After a few long beats of silence, he says, “At some point, I’m sure I did. It wouldn’t have gone on as long as it did if there wasn’t some kind of emotion behind it. But now I don’t think I do, which is why it won’t work anymore, amongst other reasons.”

“What are those other reasons?” She asks gently.

“So nosy,” Jeonghan teases, but she knows he’s hoping she’ll let it go. But she stays silent, hand still running through his hair, so he purses his lips. “I didn’t see a future with her. She kept hinting that she wanted to get married. She even thought I was ring shopping for her when she caught Seungcheol and I looking for something for Byeol. When that ring never showed up in front of her, she confronted me about it. She gave me an ultimatum and I decided to walk away.”

Y/N is frowning. “I thought you always wanted to get married.” She remembers the silly fake weddings as little kids when they’d yell in disgust at their parents’ joking suggestion to kiss the bride. Those little fake ceremonies had always been his idea and Y/N liked dressing up for them.

“I did. I do. But it didn’t feel right so I left.”

“Then maybe you made the right decision,” Y/N says with some finality. She doesn’t need to be a fly on the wall for that argument to know that ‘it didn’t feel right’ is a good enough reason. God only knows that she’d used that reason over and over again in a past life of serial dating. She had a lot of trust in intuition, even if she couldn’t always put a name to what she was feeling. “She really seems to hate me, huh?”

Y/N is trying to make a joke, but Jeonghan’s chuckle is pretty dim. “Yeah, that was a sore spot.”

Her fingers freeze in his hair. “How do you mean?”

Jeonghan hesitates. “I hate myself for this, but please don’t hate me too, okay?” Y/N nods and Jeonghan continues, fingers playing with the ends of her shirt. “Sora didn’t like me hanging out with you or talking to you. There were sometimes early on that I’d listen to her just to avoid a fight. One too many times of that contributed to us losing contact. And then when Sora and I fought about anything after you and I lost contact, she always made me feel guilty for thinking about reaching out to you for support.”

Y/N’s stomach drops. “I’m… sorry, Hannie. I didn’t realize I’d cause so much trouble in your relationship.”

“You’re too kind, Y/N. You never cared much for Sora. I knew that before we even started dating. You don’t owe an apology,” Jeonghan is back to teasing, trying to lighten the mood up, but Y/N is feeling crushed that she had anything at all to do with the end of Jeonghan and Sora’s relationship.

“Maybe not, but I cared for you and you liked her. I still care for you and if Sora was what you wanted I would understand the distance, or at least the boundaries. That would be totally understandable. I want you to be happy above everything else.”

Jeonghan is laughing now but it’s a bit humorless. “That’s just it, I’m not happy and I haven’t been for a while now. I lost my best friend and it wasn’t even for a relationship that made me happy 90% of the time.”

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here,” Y/N insists immediately. “Even if I wasn’t brave enough to pick up the phone, if you would have been I would have answered right away. Besides you deserve to be happy. If Sora wasn’t it, then it’s time to move on.”

Jeonghan hums like he’s deep in thought. “Are you happy, Y/N?”

“What do you mean? Of course, I am. I’m just worn out with residency,” Y/N laughs.

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan drawls, voice tinged with concern. “You used to have this sparkle about you. It’s one of the things I admired most about you back then. You had so much enthusiasm for everything, even stupid things like my math homework. How long have you been missing that?”

Y/N pouted, and though Jeonghan couldn’t see it, she’s sure he knows. The truth was that she’d been flirting with depression for a long time and the stress of med school and residency hadn’t helped. On her days off, she spent most of her time in bed. “I don’t know, Hannie. I haven’t felt that way in years. So much of that ‘sparkle’ as you call it was found in other people hoping they could make me happy.”

“And you don’t find any of that sparkle anymore?” Jeonghan’s finger tips are grazing the skin of her stomach where her shirt has ridden up. It leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I don’t really look anymore. I don’t really make new friends now, and the few dates I’ve been on over the years were set up by some of my friends and didn’t really go anywhere. Maybe that’s a good thing. I was so naive about love, looking back on it. And now I’m too jaded.”

Jeonghan’s thumb rubs against her stomach and it’s both soothing and lights a fire. She hasn’t been with anyone in a really long time and the touch is so foreign to her. “Maybe you were a little naive sometimes, but there was always a lot of charm and honesty about it. I always thought it was sweet and you just needed the right person to give the same thing back to you.”

“I don’t know how to be like that now. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore.”

Jeonghan hummed. “You need someone that will be sweet with you and do the romantic things. Someone who makes you laugh and that you can stop being so serious with. But also someone that lets you be emotional because you have a tendency to bottle it up until you explode. Someone who helps you forgive your own mistakes. Someone who remembers the little things.”

The answer is so fast that Y/N lets out a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve thought about this before?”

“You’ve been my best friend for forever, Y/N. Of course I thought about who was right for you, especially after I watched the wrong ones show up time and time again,” Jeonghan insists.

Y/N lets out another laugh of disbelief. “Well, if you find Mr. Right for me, let me know.”

“Yeah, like you’d ever let me set you up. Come on, let’s go to bed. This couch is too cramped,” Jeonghan groans, hand on her waist pushing her now. It returns to her waist out of sheer habit again when they crawl into bed.

It’s been six weeks since the accident and Jeonghan is what Y/N considers 75% healed. His ribs still ache most of the time and she says he’ll probably feel that for a while, but the cast has been taken off of his wrist as of yesterday, and he’s getting fewer headaches due to the concussion and whiplash. Visibly, the only reminder of the accident now is some road rash, lacerations, and bruising that haven’t quite faded yet. Most of that is covered by his slacks and dress shirt as he looks in the mirror. And he feels good because it’s the first time he’s been able to leave the house, save for a couple walks around the block when he became restless and Y/N couldn’t keep him in the house any longer, or his followup appointments with doctors.

Seungcheol and Byeol pick him up at his apartment and Y/N is already in the back seat when he gets in the car. Tonight is the ‘official’ engagement celebration with the wedding party. Over the last six weeks, Seungcheol and Byeol have been picking people and reaching out to ask if they’d like to be in the wedding. It’s a small group, only three people on each side, because they said they wanted the wedding party to be both intimate and manageable. Jeonghan thinks they might have taken their time with this selection process so that he can heal up and attend everything, and he wants to thank them for it but doesn’t know how bring it up.

Byeol’s choices for the wedding party don’t surprise Jeonghan. Y/N is the only possible choice for maid of honor because she and Byeol have been close since college and Byeol has no sisters or even cousins that she’s close with. Her two other bridesmaids are their friends from the sorority, Ara and… Sora. Jeonghan didn’t want to think much about that because he’d been enjoying not seeing her lately.

Seungcheol’s choices did surprise him though. He’d already asked Jeonghan to be the best man (and Jeonghan would have been deeply offended if he hadn’t after 30 years of friendship), but his two groomsmen were none of their than Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo. Mingyu was a surprise because Seungcheol had hated him while they were on the basketball team together for a variety of reasons, but Mingyu was good friends with Y/N now and he and Seungcheol seem to be on good terms now and even have a lot in common. Wonwoo had gotten a job in the IT department at the company that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol worked for and he was a little awkward but easy to get along with. When Jeonghan asked, Seungcheol said that he’d bailed him out of a lot of technical issues over the years at work and they’d become friends. He’d also liked that Wonwoo had stuck up for Y/N in college when no one else did. That was really enough for Jeonghan because treating Y/N well was a non-negotiable for anyone in their lives. Jeonghan regrets that he let Sora break that rule for so long. It crosses his mind that if Seungcheol knew about how deeply Sora’s animosity towards Y/N ran, then Sora would be out of the wedding at the snap of a finger.

Seungcheol and Byeol have picked an upscale Italian place for their dinner and rented out a private room. As Y/N and Jeonghan follow them inside, Jeonghan leaned down to her ear. “Under no circumstances will you let me sit next to Sora.” And after a beat he added, “and neither should you, actually. I don’t know that she’s not above poisoning our food.”

Y/N gave him an entertained look. She’s dressed up tonight, something she says she doesn’t really do anymore given that she lives in scrubs. She’s curled her hair and put on make up, and is wearing a tight fitting dark green dress that plunges at the neckline along with heels. Jeonghan avoids looking anywhere but her face even when he tells her she looks nice, but it presents a challenge because ‘nice’ is putting it so lightly. “Deal. Let’s get through this dinner unscathed.” Jeonghan can’t help but giggle at her words and Seungcheol and Byeol look back in amusement.

The giggles die down when they enter the private room though. Sora is already there with Ara and she does not look happy. Y/N and Jeonghan intentionally pick seats on the opposite end of the table. When Mingyu and Wonwoo arrive they greet Y/N with a hug and it diffuses some of the tension when they sit down. The waiter serves them some champagne and Seungcheol stands up. Jeonghan thinks he might tease him later for whatever speech he’s about to give, but Seungcheol looks too happy.

“Thank you guys for making it tonight and for agreeing to be part of the wedding party. Byeol has promised to not be a bridezilla and I promise to keep my temper in check when things inevitably go wrong.” This earns a laugh from the table. “Anyway, we wanted to get everyone together to celebrate and get reacquainted before we start any serious planning. So please enjoy. Dinner and drinks are on us.”

“Dangerous words, Cheol. I’m about to drink my weight in wine,” Mingyu teases.

“And I’m about to eat my weight in pasta,” Wonwoo tacks on for good measure.

The vibe is good, besides Sora who has a sour look on her face the whole time. Jeonghan is pretty unconcerned about it. He bounces between conversation with Mingyu and Wonwoo across the table and Y/N next to him. When their food arrives, Jeonghan doesn’t really think twice about pushing his and Y/N’s plates together to split what each other has. Before their years apart, this was an old habit and Y/N smiles when he glances at her. He’s relieved by that because for a moment he was afraid he’d overstepped. In some ways, they weren’t like they used to be and they were still finding these new boundaries. She leans in to put her lips next to Jeonghan’s ear. “You’re making someone really unhappy.” Jeonghan glances to Sora, who is seething and it seems dangerous that she has a knife for her chicken parmigiana. He just shakes his head at Y/N, who looks a little anxious, and starts eating. He feels too light right now to let it get to him.

Between dinner and dessert, Jeonghan excuses himself to run to the restroom. None other than Sora is waiting for him when he comes out and his light mood comes crashing down. “Y/N? Really?” She snaps. She’s wearing a blue dress that Jeonghan usually likes on her and she looks perfect, really - besides the disgusting sneer she’s making as she crosses her arms and taps her foot like a petulant child.

“What about her?” Jeonghan breathes because this is already exhausting.

“You moved on that quickly? I guess it’s a good thing I kept you guys apart while we were together. I know you two have a history of cheating together.”

Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. “Yeah, it’s not moving on to someone else. It’s fixing something that you broke over the course of years. And you know for a fact that we never cheated together, not even back then.” Sora scoffs and looks like she’s about to snap back at him, but he cuts her off. “Look, Sora. All that I’m interested in at this point is making sure that Seungcheol and Byeol have a happy and peaceful wedding. I need you to cooperate with me on that, regardless of whose here.”

“But what about us?” Sora says in a bratty tone. He used to enjoy that - specifically, reminding her who was in charge in bed after she acted like that. It had happened constantly over the years because she was constantly bratty. Now it’s grating on his nerves and he wanted as much space as possible from her. A lifetime worth of space actually.

“There is no us. You said marriage or nothing, so I chose nothing. And after an ultimatum like that, I’m not interested in finding somewhere in between with you again,” Jeonghan says impatiently.

“But we were good together for a long time, Jeonghan! I don’t understand what’s so bad about marrying me,” she’s still whining and the pout she’s taken on won’t work now. Frankly, it had never worked because he particularly cared that she was upset. Most of the time he knew it would lead to a fight and he wanted to avoid it.

“Do you define ‘good’ as keeping me from my best friend? That’s really strange, Sora,” Jeonghan bit.

Sora looks taken aback. “It’s not strange when I don’t trust that slut of a ‘best friend’ as far as I can throw her.”

Jeonghan gave her a dead stare and his voice turned hard. “Yeah, Sora. Let me make something clear. You say one more thing like that about her and we’re going to have problems. I should have never let you talk like that about her and I won’t stand for it anymore. I’m going back to the table. Come back if you’d like, I don’t care.”

Thankfully, Mingyu is in the middle of an animated story when Jeonghan sits back down. His mood shift is only noticed by Y/N who frowns at him and he shakes his head. It doesn’t take much for Y/N to figure out what happened when Sora comes back to the table looking dejected. Y/N gives him a sympathetic smile, leaning over to whisper to him. “I ordered your dessert already.”

Jeonghan lightens up. “Thanks.”

As he eats the dessert that Y/N ordered for him, which he loves, he feels eyes on him. He decides Sora will be a problem, but he’s not sure what to do about it. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this wedding.

Act Two

The first step according to Byeol and Y/N is to pick a venue and book the date they want. They already have a list that Seungcheol and Jeonghan just kind of skim. Seungcheol doesn’t care where they have the wedding and money isn’t really a problem. The top of their list contains a few churches and a winery locally that interest Byeol, and the two women spend hours pouring over pictures online of each venue.

Seungcheol mentions a destination wedding and Byeol’s eyes light up, before they dim again. She doesn’t come from money and the idea of splurging like that is something she usually declines outright. Seungcheol struggles to get her to understand that he doesn’t care to spend quite literally any amount on her. He’s struggled lovingly with this for years, gifting her luxury bags and new electronics, and even a car recently. She’d only accepted any of those because he wouldn’t back down and her junky care was becoming dangerous to drive. “Baby, I promise I won’t mind a destination wedding. I just want you to enjoy our wedding, no matter the cost,” Seungcheol insists.

Byeol pouts and Seungcheol is all over her immediately. Jeonghan wants to tease him for it, but he’s happy that his friend is in love, particularly with someone as kindhearted as Byeol. Byeol has never abused the power that she has over Seungcheol. “I know, but I’ll enjoy our wedding even if we get married in the church down the street. I don’t care about all the frills.”

“I know you don’t, but just think about it. Put a few ideas on the list at least.” So that’s how Italy, France, and Greece end up on the list. They’re places that Byeol has never been and would love to visit. Seungcheol bites his tongue to resist the urge to argue that they can just go anytime and it doesn’t have to be a special occasion.

The following weekend, the four of them visit the local churches for a tour and Byeol admits that it’s not quite what she wants. So the weekend after that, they decide to take an overnight trip to the winery. Jeonghan and Y/N are in the back seat again and they make it their goal to annoy Seungcheol until he can’t stand them anymore. Byeol cackles when Seungcheol groans, “Maybe you two should go back to not being friends again. My life was really peaceful then.”

“Not a chance, Cheol,” Jeonghan insists.

“You’re stuck with us forever,” Y/N adds. Seungcheol turns up the music so he can’t hear them, but Jeonghan can see the small smile he’s wearing in the rearview mirror.

The winery has a bed and breakfast attached to it. It’s small, but it would be enough for the wedding party to stay and get ready at if they rented out the whole place. Y/N and Jeonghan had insisted that they don’t need separate rooms for the single night, so they drop their suitcases in the room and flop on the bed. Well - Y/N flops, but Jeonghan careful lays down because of his sore ribs. “This is nice,” Y/N comments dreamily.

Jeonghan agrees. There’s something old about it’s design but there’s also something cozy about it. There’s a fire place in the room that Jeonghan kind of wants to have a drink in front of later tonight. And the view is nice outside. He actually never wants to leave. “I don’t think she’ll pick it though,” Jeonghan lamented.

Y/N snorts. “I don’t think so either. She keeps looking at pictures of Greece. I hope you have your passport ready.”

“Well, let’s just enjoy the free trip on Seungcheol’s dime then,” Jeonghan joked sitting up. “Come on, let’s wander around. I can’t just lay around anymore.”

She and Jeonghan take the tour and then sit on the large patio of the bed and breakfast, drinking wine all afternoon. Jeonghan thinks the countryside is good for Y/N. She’s got a bit of that sparkle back when she smiles, shoulders relaxed, and it makes him feel warm inside. He was always worried about her but ever since they’ve become friends again he sees how reserved she’s become. She used to smile so openly and he hasn’t seen it much in the last two months. He’s grinning widely at her as she giggles into her wine glass when Seungcheol and Byeol find them around dinner time. Seungcheol asks, “Are we interrupting something?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at Cheol’s tone, but Y/N seems none the wiser to whatever her brother is implying. “You guys have to try this wine. It’s so good!” Over dinner, Byeol quietly admits this isn’t quite the place that she had in mind, but they all decide to enjoy the night anyway. After a few too many bottles of wine, the four of them stumble up to their rooms. Y/N and Jeonghan change into their pajamas and sit on the couch with one more bottle of wine to share. The air is cozy as they both drink and watch the fire crackle.

For a change, it’s Y/N that’s leaning against Jeonghan. He knows if she hadn’t of had so much to drink, she’d be more cautious about his chest, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s a little uncomfortable. She so rarely let her hair down like this before the space they had over the years, and it certainly seems like she doesn’t relax much now. He didn’t want to discourage it when she plopped down next to him, curled up, and leaned close like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. “I could get married here,” Y/N said, but her words run together a bit.

Jeonghan smiles. “I could too. Feel okay?” Y/N nods into his chest, letting out a single hiccup. Jeonghan laughs, taking the wine glass from her to set aside. “Okay, I think it’s time to stop for the night.”

“But it’s good. And I feel good,” her voice adopts a bit of a whine and Jeonghan can’t help but pinch her flushed cheeks.

“I know, angel. I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow. We have to drive home in the afternoon,” he says, watching as she props her chin on his shoulder. Her eyes are abnormally bright as she blinks at him and her face is so close to his. Still, he keeps looking at her.

“I guess so,” she finally sighs, then hiccups again, looking around the room. “I really like it here.”

“Kind of romantic, isn’t it?” Jeonghan teases. He’s sure that’s why she likes it so much. She doesn’t seem interested in pursuing romance anymore but he knows a vibe like this will always be a soft spot for her.

Y/N gives him a cheesy smile. “Yeah, it’s nice. Don’t you think?”

Jeonghan thinks he’d agree to anything with the way she’s looking at him right now. It’s so innocent and warm, without an ounce of manipulation like he was used to for the last five years, and he realizes just how much he missed this, or missed her, rather. “It’s nice. Kind of don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

Y/N hums, chin back on his shoulder. “Do you remember when were 16?”

“You’ll have to be more specific. That was a whole year, angel,” Jeonghan teases the random question.

She shoves his shoulder lightly before putting her chin down again. “I’m thinking about the stupid marriage pact we made.”

Jeonghan chuckles. “I’d totally forgotten about that.” One night, just a few days after she’d been brought back from boarding school, Y/N had witnessed a nasty fight between her mom and dad, specifically about how Y/N’s new stepmom, Nari, was treating her. Her parents’ divorce the year before had shattered her image of love and marriage because it had come out of left field for her. Ultimately, this fight would lead to a change in custody and a bitter relationship between her parents. The animosity was hard for her to stomach because she always saw the best in things, but there was really no positive to the situation.

That night, she was hiding out at Jeonghan’s because that’s what she did a lot back then. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be with anyone, much less get married. Not if it can end up like that,” she had sighed, rubbing her red eyes.

Jeonghan was sitting on the floor next to her with their backs against the bed, an arm thrown around her. She rarely cried, but he hated it more than anything. If he held her like this then he didn’t have to look at her and the pangs in his chest weren’t so intense. “That’s not true. You just have to be patient. And love doesn’t have to look like that.”

Y/N had let out a little humph sound. “I don’t know. Can’t I just marry you?” She laughs but it’s a miserable sound. “At least we get each other. I can’t imagine we’d ever be that cruel to one another.”

Jeonghan remembered how his heart had pounded, despite the serious topic. “I guess you could. We could make one of those lame deals where if we’re still single at 30, we’ll just get married.”

Y/N had snorted and Jeonghan had been elated that her mood seemed to lift a bit. “Would you want that? I might hold you up to your end of the bargain in about 15 years.” Her voice is teasing.

Jeonghan had shrugged though the answer was obvious to him even at 16. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend? Isn’t that ideal?”

Back in the present, Y/N giggles. “Do you regret that now? Time is almost up.”

Jeonghan laughs. “No, why would I regret that? I meant it, who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend?” He can’t forget the irony that he didn’t want to marry Sora just a couple months ago…. But Sora was never his best friend, or really a friend at all. She’d always been his girlfriend and the connection was just not the same.

Y/N hums. “I don’t know. I don’t have the best track record.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, Y/N. I told you back then that it didn’t,” Jeonghan admonished. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes and he’s transfixed. She’s not subtle about looking down at his lips and he knows he should stop her. But then she’s leaning in and he’s kissing her back immediately. It’s so much better than when they were teenagers and he’d loved that back then too. This kiss lacks the nervousness that the first one years ago did. His hand cups her face and she sighs into the kiss. The feeling and sound makes Jeonghan’s heart race. However, it’s like a bucket of ice water over his head when her tongue swipes at his lips. He pulls away but doesn’t let go of her face yet. She’s gotten the wrong idea and she looks alarmed, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Jeonghan can’t help but try to quell her panic a bit. He hates the wild look in her eyes when she did nothing wrong. “Angel, it’s okay. We’ve just been drinking. That’s all.”

Y/N blinks at him a few times. “That’s all?”

“Yeah, no big deal, I promise.” He says this casually though his heart is still racing and he’s still holding her face.

“Okay. No big deal,” she echoes, but the sparkle she had earlier is gone and he wishes he knew why. Impulsively, he presses the smallest peck to her cheek and stands up. He puts out the fire in the fire place and helps her into bed, climbing in beside her. She starts snoring softly as soon as her head hits the pillow and Jeonghan hopes they can forget about this in the morning. He wants her sparkle back.

Byeol had reluctantly pondered the idea of visiting the potential destination wedding locations to aid in her decision making and Seungcheol had practically lunged across the room for his computer to book flights and hotels. Y/N and Jeonghan would be joining them because the soon-to-be newlyweds insisted that they needed their opinion. Joshua helps Y/N pack the night before Y/N is set to leave. “Another romantic getaway, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrow at her.

Y/N pelts him with a handful of panties. She’s long over being embarrassed by him seeing them. Not only did they sleep together once upon a time, but he does her laundry all the time anyway. He’s washed most of these pairs just earlier today. They don’t have a lot of secrets now. “It’s for wedding planning, dipshit. Byeol needs to pick a location and she doesn’t want to without visiting them.”

“Oh, I get it. That makes perfect sense. I’m referring to the romantic trip across Europe with your best friend.”

Joshua’s teasing has been relentless since wedding planning started. Apparently Mingyu and Wonwoo had a lot to say about Y/N and Jeonghan after the celebratory dinner and it had gotten around her friend group. “It’s not romantic. We’re going for Seungcheol and Byeol.”

“Uh huh. Where are you going again?” Joshua smirks.

“Venice, Paris, and Mykonos,” Y/N answers shortly, snatching a stack of clothes from Joshua’s hands.

“AKA some of the most romantic cities in the world. Tell me again, how was the winery?” Joshua is grinning widely and it makes Y/N scoff at him.

“I hate you. Stop making me feel awkward about it.”

“What’s awkward about being into your best friend? It’s okay if you are,” Joshua urges and it makes Y/N reel back.

“Whoa, who said anything like that?”

Joshua nods simply. “You don’t fool me. Something happened at the winery. You’ve been weird ever since.”

“You are so nosy, do you know that?” Y/N snaps though it doesn’t have a lot of heat behind it.

“I know,” Joshua’s still smiling and it’s starting to get irritating. “I’m just invested in your happiness. Now what, did you guys hook up or something?”

Y/N frowned. “Not quite. And it was probably a mistake anyway.”

“Honey, what was a mistake?” Joshua asks cautiously. He’d really been teasing. He’s surprised that anything happened at all with the way Y/N had been about men over the past 8 years.

Y/N purses her lips. “We had a lot to drink and we kissed. He said it was no big deal when I apologized. See? A mistake.”

“But it bothers you.” Joshua observed. She hated how good he was at that sometimes. She could never get much past him. “Tell me why.”

“It’s a lot to explain…” she mumbles.

“I have time. Now let me help you before you go spend over a week with him in Europe.” Y/N huffs and opens her mouth. Somewhere in all the word vomit, it must make some sense because Joshua’s eyes keep getting bigger. She explains what it was like growing up with him, their first kiss, losing their virginities to each other, that stupid marriage pact that they hadn’t acknowledged in years until recently, the way he’d always looked out for her, everything to do with Sora, and how warm things had been since Y/N and Jeonghan had reunited. Joshua whistled. “Okay. What do you want to do about it?”

Y/N stares blankly. “What do you mean? I want to keep my best friend. I haven’t been good at that over the last few years.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’ll be honest. That’s not just your best friend anymore. You said it felt different right?” Joshua asked. “It’s okay if it is different now. Like you said, you both have done a lot of growing up. Maybe it’s not supposed to be just friends now.”

Y/N looks like she could cry from frustration as she angrily folds a shirt. Joshua gently pulls it out of her hands and makes her sit down, squatting in front of her with his hands planted on her knees. “I just got him back. And he just got out of a long term relationship. The last thing I want to do is fuck anything up.”

“But would he make you happy?” Joshua pressed. She frowns at him and he continues to press. “That day at our internship years ago when you yelled at me, you said you just wanted to find something that felt right. Does it feel right with him?”

Her frown is deeper then as she looks down at Joshua. He’s carefully watching her. “I’ve never really let myself entertain the idea. At least not since we were teenagers.”

“Then maybe that’s what you should use this trip for,” Joshua suggests. “Do the romantic things I know you want to do because you’re there anyway. And while you’re at it, figure out if it feels right with him or not. And try to get a read on if he likes it too.” Joshua stands up. “But we should rethink what you’re bringing. Do any of your old stuff from college fit?”

Y/N gives him a bewildered look. “You think I’m going to wear things I wore in college? If I can even fit in them still?”

Joshua huffs, going to her closet. “I’ll figure it out.”

Jeonghan insists that Y/N take the window seat when they board the plane for Italy. She’s always liked to look outside down into the clouds and she’s kind of touched that she didn’t have to remind him of that. It’s still early when they take off so the flight is quiet. When they land it’s only sometime in the afternoon local time, but they’re all exhausted because of the flight and time difference and decide to tackle sight seeing and venue touring the next day. The hotel room is beautiful and Y/N oohs and aahs over the view from the bed. Seungcheol made sure not to spare any expenses for this trip now that Byeol was letting him splurge on her and Y/N and Jeonghan were benefiting greatly from it. She and Jeonghan relax and take a short nap before it’s time to go down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner. Much like at the winery, they have too much to drink and stumble up to their rooms late.

They come inside the room and Y/N shuffles around as Jeonghan sits down on the couch by the window. Y/N doesn’t really think twice about stopping in front of Jeonghan and turning her back to him as she pulls her hair out of the way. “Can you unzip this for me?” Joshua had picked a royal purple dress from closet that wasn't her favorite because of the cut and shape of it. She’s not sure why she even has it because she’d had to take the tag off of it earlier today, but Joshua insisted it would look good. She’d let him chuck a lot of things into her suitcase that she felt iffy about and now she just wanted out of the dress that was a first of many.

She waits patiently to feel Jeonghan’s touch, and when she finally does feel it, it doesn’t do what she expects. One big hand wraps around the curve of her waist in slow motion and pulls her closer so she’s standing between his knees and the other lands between her shoulder blades. Both touches are incredibly warm, but a shiver runs down her spine anyway and she fears it was obvious. “Why? It looks nice,” Jeonghan said lightly with a hint of amusement. She’s sure if she could see his face, she’d think about smacking it.

“I’m not going to sleep in it,” Y/N snorts, trying to recover even though his hands are searing against her. “Besides, it’s not my favorite.”

Jeonghan’s fingers still don’t move for the zipper yet, running along the top of the spaghetti strap dress just under her shoulder blades. The other drifts to her hip and she’s being pulled back a little more now. “What’s not to like?”

Y/N loses whatever train of thought she had. He’s complimented her three times in this dress now. Once before they went downstairs and she’d asked him to help her zip it up, and now twice sitting behind her as she waits for him to unzip it. It’s not like he never gives her any compliments, but now she’s reading into everything too much. There’s also something in his tone that she’s never really heard before and can’t identify. His touch in particular makes her hands shake a little the longer it lingers. Lamely, she finally says, “It’s a little too snug in the waist. I’ve put on a few pounds since I bought it, I guess.”

“I think you look beautiful in it. Plus, I like this color on you.”

“Thanks, Hannie. You really think so?” It comes out more like a whisper and she has to close her eyes.

There’s a chuckle behind her, still tinged with that little something she can’t name. “Yeah I do.” Finally, he puts her out of her misery. The hand at her hip stays and squeezes a bit, but his other fingers finally close around the zipper and he pulls down slowly. Her bare back is cold now, but more importantly she can feel her face flushing. She can’t really face him now, so she softly pulls away from his hands and grabs her pajamas and toiletries on the way to the bathroom. Y/N is questioning such a reaction as she showers and changes. She tries to rationalize it with the fact that she’s not really dated, much less been intimate, with anyone in years. But that had been different than every other experience she’d ever had. It was so simple, and yet there was something sensual and sweet about it. Like he’d take care of her. Immediately, she thinks that’s silly because he has always gone out of his way to take care of her, outside of the time that they were strangers.

She checks that her face isn’t too red when she comes back out. Jeonghan is lounging on the bed in his pajamas, flipping through TV channels. He looks up to her and smiles as she approaches. “Better?” Somehow the little question warms her more than the little touches and compliments did earlier. He was concerned about her comfort on top of everything else. She simply nods and settles into bed, looking out at the Venice skyline. She’s still awake much later when he’s turned off the TV and lights and is tossing and turning. He does this a lot now due to the lingering rib pain and struggles to stay comfortable. His arm comes around her waist and his body slides close to hers. She doesn’t think too much initially about letting her hand fall over his across her stomach. Just as she starts to overthink it and pull back though, he mumbles into the back of her neck. “Why are you still awake?”

“Don’t know. Insomnia, I guess. Don’t let me keep you up.”

He’s humming into the back of her neck now. “Is that normal for you?”

“A hazard of what I do for a living. And sometimes I can’t get my mind to shut off,” Y/N whispers back.

“What’s on your mind tonight?” He asks sleepily.

Y/N doesn’t know how to answer because somehow the words, ‘I think I’m into my best friend and am overthinking literally everything we say or do’, don’t seem like the right thing to say. She settles for a non-descriptive, “I don’t know, a lot right now.”

“Don’t do that.” When she makes a sound of confusion, Jeonghan props his head up in his palm, pulling her to lay flat on her back and face him. The way the lighting hits his face leaves her kind of breathless and she feels so fucking cheesy for it. “Stop bottling things up.”

“It’s not that I’m bottling things up intentionally,” Y/N pouts up at him. “I just don’t know how to articulate it.”

“What’s it about then?” He asks simply. He’s trying to pull small answers out of her to get her to talk about the big things. It’s always been his technique for her because she needs the encouragement. But that’s kind of a dangerous thing considering where her mind is going while looking up at him. So she looks away towards the ceiling.

“All this wedding planning has got me thinking. I don’t think I want to be alone. Maybe I did for a while, but now I just don’t know how not to be alone.”

“You’re thinking about dating again?” Jeonghan asks and there’s something careful about it. Y/N just shrugs. “Anyone in particular?” Though he’s trying to tease, he’s still being careful. Maybe it’s just because he recognizes it for the sensitive topic it is.

“I don’t know that it matters,” Y/N mumbles.

“It should matter…” he starts. “But if it doesn’t, we can always keep that marriage pact.”

Y/N can’t help but giggle but she can’t look at him. She’s picturing a stupid wedding at a stupid winery with a stupid bed and breakfast. Their room would have a stupid couch with a stupid fireplace. “Buy me a ring. I hear you have good taste.”

Jeonghan bows his head as he laughs. “I don’t know about that.”

“Byeol liked it. And I think you did a good job helping Cheol,” Y/N said lightly.

He fiddles with her fingers and they both get quiet. When he grazes a finger over her ring finger, her mind scrambles a bit, wondering if he entertains the joke even half as much as she does. “What would that even look like for us?” He asks curiously.

Y/N ponders the question. They’d always been close. Outside of the more physical elements of a relationship, she wonders if anything would really change. There weren’t many lines between them otherwise, which is why she’d been so comfortable with pitching the idea of sleeping together at 16. And as silly as it sounds, it was something she thought about from time to time. It had been sweet and careful and full of trust - exactly how their whole friendship had been and worlds better than some of the horror stories she’d heard before when it comes to your first. Looking back on her dating experience, not much had compared to it since and in a way she had been chasing after it. And it was both a blessing and a curse that they went right back to normal the next day. There were times that Y/N had wanted it to mean more than it seemed to, but it wasn't worth the risk of mentioning it back then.

But now things were different between them. They were older with more life experience, but still understood each other so well. Objectively, they didn’t do many things differently now - they still annoyed and teased each other, they still shared food every time they ate together, and looked out for each other the way they always did. The big difference to Y/N now was that the casual touching and compliments didn’t feel so casual. There was a level of intimacy about it that hadn’t been present before. She wants to chalk it up to the years-long dry spell she’s under, but no one she’s dated before that has ever flustered her with simple touches or words the way he does lately. But she feels like she can’t say any of that so she does what she does best and makes a joke. “I don’t know, Hannie. If we got married, you’d have to pretend to like me a little, at least.”

Jeonghan scoffs and acts like he’s going to push Y/N away, but ends up dragging her a bit closer. “I like you more than anyone else. What are you even talking about?”

“Sounds like the first step of a good marriage to me,” Y/N teases. “You should like your partner more than you like anyone else.”

“Mhm,” Jeonghan hummed, clearly amused. “And what about you? Could you tolerate me for the next 70 years?”

Y/N snorts, looking up at him. “We won’t live that long. But yes, I can’t imagine tolerating anyone but you that long.”

Jeonghan is smiling when he lays back down on the pillow - her pillow, that is. His breath is on her cheek. “And what are the benefits to this marriage? Arguing about eating sushi every night? Or whose a bigger blanket hog?”

The teasing makes her laugh up at the ceiling. “It would all be with love. Plus, there’s financial benefits like taxes and insurance. And I’m sure there would be some physical benefits to it too.” The words are out before she realizes it and she hopes he can’t see how she’s blushing. She keeps looking at the ceiling, feeling embarrassed for what she said, and then feeling even more embarrassed about being embarrassed about it at all at the age of 30.

“Would there be?” Jeonghan asks and Y/N can’t really decipher what’s in his tone again, but she knows that the teasing and amusement are totally absent. When Y/N bites her lip, he grips her fingers. “There would be no pressure for that in this entirely hypothetical plan.”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Y/N mumbled. “After all, I asked you before… I’m not sure how you feel about it now though.”

“I feel the same about it as I did back then,” Jeonghan says simply and Y/N furrows her eyebrows at him.

“I’m not sure what that means, Hannie. We never really talked about it before or after the fact back then.”

“All you have to do is ask. That’s how I feel about it.” Another simple statement.

“And if I asked right now?” Y/N dared to ask, looking him directly in the eye.

Jeonghan’s eyes flit across her face. “That depends. Are you still drunk?” Y/N shook her head. She hadn’t been nearly as bad as she was at the winery a few weeks ago and the drinks at dinner tonight had been hours ago at this point. His hand leaves hers at her stomach and grazes the side of her face. “We’re starting to toe the line where this doesn’t feel entirely hypothetical. Have you noticed?”

Y/N’s eyes flare with surprise and he smiles softly when she speaks. “Yeah, I wasn't sure if you had though. So it’s not just me that feels like things are different now?”

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled. “Not just you.” His thumb grazes over her bottom lip. “I don’t know where to go from here though, Y/N. I just got you back.” He doesn’t really have to explain anymore, because Y/N is right there with him. After four painful years without him, it feels so risky to even discuss this.

Y/N thinks of Joshua’s advice. Take the nice, free, romantic vacation and figure out how you feel. It seems like good advice now and there’s an openness between them, so Y/N suggests it. Jeonghan looks at her for a long time before mumbling, “Okay.” Then he’s leaning in to kiss her.

Jeonghan and Y/N meet Seungcheol and Byeol for breakfast on very little sleep, but it doesn’t matter because Byeol has a laundry list of things she wants to accomplish. They eat quickly and get a move on. There are a couple rooftop venues that overlook the Grand Canal and both women seem intrigued by the view. Seungcheol and Jeonghan stand back and let them hash out the details over the notebook Byeol is carrying with her. Ideas for decor, colors that will look good with the backdrop, what type of flowers would fit this vibe. The men just glance at each other and shrug. Jeonghan doesn’t care much and he knows Seungcheol doesn’t either as long as Byeol will be walking down the aisle wherever they pick. They stop for lunch at a little cafe and then they’re moving again. This time, it’s the tourist traps like Saint Mark’s Basilica and the Bridge of Sighs. They don’t have a ton of time anywhere in particular because of how much they want to pack into this trip, and Seungcheol promises they’ll come back after he sees Byeol’s face when it’s time to find somewhere for dinner and wind down for the night. She’s clearly enjoying the trip and doesn’t want to leave quite yet.

Jeonghan is terribly distracted. Not in a bad way, but he can’t for the life of him focus on anything else but Y/N. He hasn’t been able to all day. It’s a good thing that Seungcheol excepted very little from him here besides showing up and giving an opinion on the venues, because Jeonghan has done very little besides watching Y/N as she looks around in a sort of childlike wonder or excitement. It’s what he refers to as her sparkle.

He first noticed her sparkle when they were five. Jeonghan had been dropped off for a play date, something they’d done their whole life up to that point, and he’d let himself in because he might as well have lived at the Choi’s just as much as the twins lived at the Yoon’s. He found Seungcheol and Y/N in the backyard. Seungcheol was too busy trying to make free throws to notice Jeonghan had arrived, but Y/N did. “Hannie, come see what I can do!” She’d looked so focused that her tongue was sort of sticking out as she places her feet carefully, and then executes a very clumsy pirouette. She’d been taking ballet for a few months and it was her favorite thing back then. When she was facing him again, feet both planted on the floor, she gave him a smile that made him ask to see her do it again. He’d seen that look again today when she pulled him down to duck under a bridge during a gondola ride. And when they were looking out at the canal from one of the rooftop venues. And when she saw someone walk their dog past their table on the sidewalk during dinner. He liked seeing it.

Later, when they arrived to the hotel room, the first thing he did was hug her. It felt silly, because they’d hugged hundreds if not thousands of times over the years. But after last night and today, he couldn’t help it. Kissing her for just a few moments last night had made him realize it wasn’t even remotely just friendly now, and it was kind of agonizing to have to play it cool all day. Y/N is giggling in his ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders. “What’s this for?”

“What? You don’t like it?” Jeonghan teases, starting to pull away, but her grip around his shoulders becomes a little tighter.

“I didn’t say that, and I also didn’t say you could stop,” Y/N insists and Jeonghan has to laugh because her tone is cute. It’s got some of that sparkle.

When she finally pulls away, he leaves his hands on her waist. Again, it feels silly because it’s not like he’s never touched her waist, but there’s something different about her hands landing softly on his chest that make him smile. “Did you have a good time?”

Y/N grins widely. “Yeah, it was nice!”

Jeonghan gives her a knowing look. “She won’t pick it though.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “It’ll be Greece. I bet you anything.”

“Oh, anything?” Jeonghan gives a sly smile and Y/N pushes him back with a laugh, walking past him into the room. He trails after her to her suitcase, hovering behind her back. He can tell she’s not mad at the comment, just nervous. Her hands shake a little as they dig through the clothes and he feels bad. The last thing he wants is for her to be nervous around him. He puts his hands back on her waist and presses a small kiss to her bare shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, angel.”

Y/N looks over her shoulder at him for a moment, biting her lip. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hannie. I’m just not sure what I’m doing here.”

“I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect anything from you except honesty. Besides, I’m not sure quite what to do either.” She lets him turn her until she’s facing him again. “I know we talked about toeing this line last night, but we don’t have to do that. We can pump the brakes or just stop the car all together right now.”

Y/N fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, lips pursed. “I don’t really want to pump the brakes or stop, if you don’t. A lot of things about this are just nerve wracking.”

Jeonghan pulls her to the couch and makes her sit with him. “I agree,” he says honestly. Whatever he’s been feeling lately is scary in its intensity. “But tell me why so I can help.”

“Besides the potential of losing my best friend?” Jeonghan squeezes her thigh because that much was obvious to both of them and she sighs. She stares for a long time at him, looking conflicted. Finally, she says, “Is this what you want, Jeonghan?”

“I wouldn’t have agreed last night if I didn’t want to explore this, Y/N,” Jeonghan nodded.

“And it has nothing to do with Sora?”

Jeonghan blinked at her. “Y/N, I haven’t thought about Sora in weeks, and even then it wasn't a positive thing.”

“You're sure this isn’t a rebound?”

Her question makes him frown deeply. He wants to be mad, but it’s a fair thing to ask given he just ended a five year relationship only a matter of months ago. “No, Y/N. I love you too much for that. I want it to work if that’s what you want.”

“And if it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, what do we do?” Y/N’s eyes look a little watery, but per usual she blinks it back. “I want a plan.” Jeonghan can’t help but laugh for a moment because she’s still just as Type A as she’s always been. She likes back up plans for her back up plans. Y/N’s eyes flare with anger. “I’m serious, Hannie. If we explore this, we need to agree on finding a way out if it’s not working.”

“Angel, that’s like planning for failure,” Jeonghan is still chuckling, but the sound dies in his throat when she doesn’t laugh along.

“That’s really all I know when it comes to this sort of thing. So I need a guarantee that you’ll still be in my life if wherever we go with this doesn’t work out.” The watery eyes are back, but this time it seems like too much for her to blink them back.

Jeonghan sticks out his pinky and Y/N cracks a smile. “I promise you will not be rid of me until you beg me to go.”

“Unlikely,” Y/N laughs but it kind of chokes her up. She links their pinkies together. “You can’t take it back now.”

“Can’t imagine why I’d want to. Now, can I kiss you? I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Y/N barely nods before Jeonghan’s hand comes up to the side of her face, the other still holding her thigh. She feels his breath on her lips for a moment and her eyes drift closed. Finally, he kisses her. It’s soft and warm, light presses landing and receding over and over. It sends tingles through her body and her hands slide to his shoulders. When her tongue swipes across his lips, this time he doesn’t stop her. It’s still soft, but something is gently building and it has her sighing into the kiss. He’s so slow and careful, like she might break, which is about right. The sensations have her feeling so fragile. When his hand slides from her cheek and into her hair, she thinks she might cry. A few more touches, specifically his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist where it rubs lightly and she actually does. Jeonghan pulls back when he feels the tear. “Do you want to stop?” The question is automatic as he swipes at her cheek.

“No, I’m sorry for being such a big baby.” Y/N knows her apology is weak but Jeonghan gives her a kind smile, totally devoid of any teasing.

“Stop bottling it up, Y/N. It’s okay. And it’s also okay if you just want to go to bed.”

“I don’t,” Y/N answers quickly. “But I probably killed the mood.”

“No,” Jeonghan laughs lightly. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

Y/N feels her face flush and she knows she’s caught because his thumb runs over the apples of her cheeks where it feels the warmest. But his smile is still kind and it makes her lean in to peck his lips. “I’m okay.”

The answer must be good enough for Jeonghan because he’s leaning into her space more, hand at the back of head to hold her in place. This time he swipes into her mouth and whatever was building earlier is back again. So much that after a while of it, she doesn’t feel embarrassed to slide into his lap and straddle him. He sighs into her mouth when she’s fully seated against him and his big hands spread across the curve of her waist. She looks down at him. “Okay? Not hurting?” When he shakes his head, she leans down to his lips again.

His hands are starting to drift now and it’s starting to take her breath away. They slide up her waist until his thumbs are just under her breasts before sliding back down, past her waist and hips and to her thighs. It’s so easy to get swept up in the touches and she’s heating fast. She can feel herself getting wet as he continues, though he hasn’t touched any skin besides her thighs. And she’s not alone in being turned on. Underneath her, she feels him hardening. It’s kind of a rush to have this effect on him. When she can’t breath anymore, she pulls back to look at him and he looks as dazed as she feels. “Should we stop?” Y/N asked and feels kind of silly for it again, but Jeonghan remains serious.

“Whatever you want, angel.” His voice is low and scratchy and she likes the sound. She’s never heard it like that before.

Y/N bites her lip nervously. “I want to know what you want, Hannie.”

Jeonghan stares up at her, hands still drifting up and down her body gently. “I don’t want to stop,” he mumbles. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop this. But I’m not interested in rushing you if you want more and I don’t expect anything from you if you don’t. Which is why it’s whatever you want.”

Y/N’s nerve endings feel like they’re on fire. For some reason, she remembers being 16 as he hovers over her in bed, saying similar things. ‘There’s no rush’ and ‘we don’t have to do this’ and ‘are you sure you’re comfortable?’ He was gentle then too. It had dashed any nervousness she felt back then and he’d made her feel good when she agreed to continue. She wanted that again.

“If we keep going, do we have to go all the way?” She feels lame for asking, but this is such a fragile situation and she feels like they’re kind of walking a tight rope right now.

Jeonghan is smiling sweetly. “No. We go however far you feel like.”Something about the way he says it emboldens Y/N. She’s always let the men she’s been with take the lead, but there’s something powerful about being handed the reigns. Without another word, she leans down to him again and kisses him. It has a little more urgency but his touch his still gentle. She grabs one of his hands from her side and puts it on her thigh, angling inward. She’s glad he gets the point because it starts creeping up slowly. The fabric of her skirt starts to bunch but he’s still not rushed. Her breathing catches when his finger tips graze the edge of her panties and he pulls back to watch her face. “All you have to do is say stop, okay?” It seems highly unlikely that she’s going to do that, but she nods anyway. When his fingers graze over the center of her, she can’t help the little gasp that escapes her mouth as her eyes snap shut. Small circular motions start working her up through the fabric and she’s getting wetter by the second.

Jeonghan gently pulls the edge of her panties to the side and gives her a few beats to object. When Y/N doesn’t, his finger grazes her, dipping into the wetness and spreading it. When his finger finds her clit, she shudders, the shock waves already moving through her. Her grip on his shoulders tighten. The cord in her stomach is tightening quickly and just before it’s about to snap he pulls away. A whine escapes her mouth before she can really stop it, but he's leaning up to kiss her again. It’s still sweet and she huffs against his lips. It makes him laugh. “Be patient, okay? I want to keep making you feel good.”

“Fine,” Y/N relents and it makes him laugh again, especially when his fingers find her center again and one pushes inside. Her jaw drops open a bit at the slight stretch. It’s nothing like her own fingers and it has her breath catching in her throat again. He pumps it in and out softly and the way it hits her walls make her want to moan. When he adds another finger, she can’t help it. Her head tilts back as the sound falls from her mouth. Dimly, she’s aware that a little fingering shouldn’t have such an impact, but it feels too good to be embarrassed about it right now. Besides, Jeonghan has never let her feel genuinely embarrassed about anything for long. It feels too good the way his fingers spread inside of her, hitting spots she’s unfamiliar with anymore. When his thumb lands on her clit again, rubbing softly with every push and pull of his fingers, he leans forward into her exposed neck. She feels a few soft kisses and then the slight sting of his teeth and it has her clenching. Her fingers find the hair at the back of his head to keep him there and he nips and sucks a few times.

“Feel good?” He asks quietly against her throat and she nods weakly. “Will you let me see you come?” The question works her up even more and the cord is getting tighter again. “You look so pretty like this. Come on, angel. Just let go.” The coaxing is all it takes for the cord to finally snap. It’s a full body reaction that she has to anchor onto his shoulders for. But his free hand is on her back now keeping her upright and in his lap as the other hand still helps her ride it out. When his fingers finally slide out of her, she feels a little boneless. She’s nervous to open her eyes and look at him, but some of it fades out when his hand grabs her chin and a soft kiss is placed on her lips. “Okay?”

The question is still gentle, just like everything else he’s said since they got back to the hotel room, but she hears a tinge of nervousness that matches her own. She cracks open her eyes and he looks exceptionally vulnerable, and she wonders if he thinks he’s done something wrong. But he has nothing to worry about because this is the safest and most cared for she’s ever felt. So she leans down and kisses him one more time for good measure. “Okay.”

The next day is a travel day, but it’s much shorter because they’re only going to Paris. Jeonghan watches Y/N look out of the window for most of the flight. His nerves are fried and he keeps a grip on her hand. She doesn’t ask why.

Toeing this line over the past couple days is something he enjoyed - really enjoyed, in fact. This was someone he’s known forever, literally, and someone that knows him best, better than anyone else surely. And the feel and sight of her on his lap last night had totally scrambled his brain until not a single coherent thought remained beyond making sure she was happy and felt good. But he kind of felt like he was at a precipice when he woke up this morning. To be clear, it’s not regret that he’s feeling. He knows immediately that that’s not it, because it had all felt right to him. He was just afraid of waking up and seeing that she might have regretted it and he wasn’t sure how he would deal with that. When she woke up, she gave no indications that she did, even pecking him on the lips before she got out of bed. In the rush to the airport, he hadn’t had much time to think about it, but this short flight felt like an eternity. He’s not sure what he’d do with the time if he wasn’t stuck in this seat, but it makes him twitchy. Which is something that Seungcheol notices when they’ve landed. The girls have run to the restroom and he and Seungcheol are waiting for their bags when Seungcheol pins him with a look. “You seem off.”

“How do you mean?” Jeonghan hopes to play dumb.

“You’re anxious. Why? You’ve flown a hundred times before so that can’t be it,” Seungcheol presses.

“I’m good. Nothing to worry about.” Jeonghan prays he’ll drop it as he spots the bags coming around the corner on the conveyor belt.

“Uh huh. You know I don’t like secrets.”

Jeonghan does know that. But what he doesn’t know is if he and Y/N should be keeping things quiet until there’s something definite to say. So he shrugs, “When I have something to say, I’ll say it. I promise.” And he means it. If this is actually going somewhere, which he hopes that it is, then they’ll say something to Cheol. They’ll have to. But that also opens up the possibility of it going nowhere or going horribly wrong. Jeonghan has to put the idea out of his mind immediately for his sanity and because their bags are here.

They arrive at the hotel and it’s another nice one with a nice view. Y/N jokes that they should let Seungcheol pick lodging from now on, and Jeonghan laughs but he’s still distracted. They change out of their outfits from the flight and meet in the lobby for a tour. The hotel they’re staying at happens to be a popular venue for weddings and Seungcheol booked a tour on a whim when he booked the rooms. Byeol seems to like the ballroom and the rooftop, from which you can see the Eiffel Tower. Y/N’s sparkle is back as she enjoys the view and Jeonghan has a hard time looking at the scenery.

The second and third venues are not far and they walk to them. Both are chateaus that are privately owned but often hosts weddings. Byeol had scheduled tours at both ahead of time. Byeol is pretty charmed by both of them and even Seungcheol comments on how much he likes it. Y/N shivers in the cold, castle-like interior. It’s not a winner for her, but Jeonghan notices she keeps her mouth shut. He already knows what her choice would be anyway if it were up to her.

After a long lunch, they hit the usual tourist destinations, such as the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. At the Cathedral, Byeol and Seungcheol even gather some information about hosting their wedding there because they like the interior. Y/N looks excited by the idea, but one look between Y/N and Jeonghan makes it obvious that it will still be Greece when it comes time for Byeol to pick.

Seungcheol and Byeol are staying on a different floor, so they get off the elevator before Y/N and Jeonghan after dinner. As soon as the elevator doors close, Jeonghan is on Y/N and she giggles. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It’s playful so he laughs, dropping a couple kisses onto her neck. “Nothing, I just missed you today.”

Y/N lets out another giggle. “Missed me? Hannie, we spent the whole day together.”

The elevator doors slides open on their floor and he takes her hand, leading them to their room. “I know, but it’s true.”

“But I was right here all day. What could be different?” She asks as he uses the keycard and opens the door. Once inside, he lightly pushes her against the closed door.

“This,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to her lips. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted any of this in public, or in front of Seungcheol or Byeol for that matter.”

She’s smiling against his ear when he buries is face in her neck again. Her arms wrap tighter around his shoulders. “Do you want that?”

“I think you already know my answer,” he laughs into her neck. “I’d be all over you anywhere if you let me.”

“I’m not opposed to it,” she admits as a hand combs through his hair. “Does Cheol know what’s going on?”

“He’s suspicious about something. He cornered me at the airport earlier.”

“Do you think he would be mad?” Y/N sounds unsure.

It only takes a split second for Jeonghan to answer. “No, not as long as I treat you well.”

She pulls back a bit to look at him. “How can you be so sure? I remember him giving you a bloody nose one time over a simple rumor.”

Jeonghan bites his tongue. He’s not ready to admit how long these feelings that they’re coming face to face with have been lingering for him. Or that Seungcheol is in on that secret. “Would you take my word for it for now?”

She stares at him for a long time and he feels nervous about it. Finally, she says, “If you’ll tell me one day, then yes.” She gives him a few pecks. There’s a blend of something that takes over her face when she pulls away. Something like fear and anxiety, but also a bit of her usual sparkle and some mischievousness. “I was going to take a shower… do you want to join me?”

Jeonghan’s mind screeches to a halt. He’s impressed by how calmly he speaks, because he doesn’t feel calm at all. He’s surprised his hands don’t shake a bit at her waist. “Y/N… are you sure? That’s quite a leap from what we did yesterday. I have no expectations for what we do and what pace we do it at.”

Some of the sparkle and mischievousness dims and she plays with the pocket on his shirt to avoid looking at him. “I know, but… You made me feel good and I felt safe with you. I always do. So I’d like to do this, if nothing else just for the company. We don’t even have to do anything.” She smiles sheepishly. “I missed you today too, you know?”

“And I missed you… you’re sure? Even if nothing happens, this is still a leap.” Outside of a handful of occasions, being without clothes was not something that was common in their friendship up to this point. That alone would be different. Jeonghan doesn’t budge until he has confirmation. She gives him a strong nod, but he still waits for her to say something.

The moment she says, “I’m sure, Hannie,” he backs off of her and lets her lead him to the bathroom. The whole thing is made of dark green tiles and the lighting is dimmed. They took a peek at the shower earlier and it’s expansive with a bench inside. Jeonghan closes the door behind them to keep the steam in later, but as soon as he faces her he knows she’s losing whatever confidence she had before when she asked him to join her. He carefully reaches out for her hands because it feels like the safest option.

“Do you want help? Or do you want me to step out?”

Y/N gives him a weak smile. “You first?”

Without much thought, Jeonghan begins unbuttoning his shirt. He’s barely two buttons in when Y/N hands push his own out of the way. She’s slow and meticulous and he lets her take her time, because it seems to help ease her nerves to be able to do something else than think about where this is going. Jeonghan helps untuck the shirt and then sheds it off. He cares very little about how it might get wrinkled on the bathroom floor when Y/N puts her hands on his bare chest. It takes him a minute to realize that she’s not just checking him out, though he does think she is. She’s also looking at the scar from his surgery. He lightly squeezes her hand bringing it up to kiss. “Don’t think about it.”

It takes him leaning over her and kissing her before that spell is broken. He walks her back into the bathroom counter, but her hands are still hesitant and she needs more time to warm up or decide to back out. So he picks her up and places her on the counter, squeezing between her legs. She looks surprised at the move and it makes him laugh. “Comfortable?”

She looks a little dazed when she nods. “Would you be offended if I said I was surprised you were that strong? It’s just, I’m not exactly light.”

Jeonghan scoffs, leaning back into her lips. “Y/N has a strength kink. Got it.”

Y/N sputters out a laugh. “I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to, angel. Your face said it all.” Y/N hides her red face in his neck but she’s still laughing. His arms wrap around her, hands rubbing up and down her back. “I’m messing with you, Y/N. You can relax.”

“Maybe you’re right. I kind of liked it,” she said shyly into his neck.

Jeonghan chuckled, letting his hand creep up the back of her shirt slowly, palm pressing into her skin. “Noted.”

Y/N huffed, frustration evident, “I’m sorry, Jeonghan. I know this is clumsy.”

He makes her sit up so he can look at her. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. I’m just relieved you trust me enough to entertain any of this. And that you’d tell me if you’re not quite ready. Right?”

Y/N nods. “Yeah, would you?”

Jeonghan can’t help but place a peck on her lips. “Yeah, I would.” Both palms are on her back now, shirt bunched up her back slightly. “What now?”

He watches her as it looks like she’s steeling herself for something. Then her hands come to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She’s wearing a black lacy bra and it makes him suck in a small breath. He’s staring a moment too long and she starts to squirm. He kisses her to get her to stop. “You are so pretty,” he mumbles against her lips. He’s rock hard now, pressing against her between her legs.

Jeonghan is surprised when Y/N starts to get a little impatient. It seems like a switch has flipped. He sucks in another breath when she reaches for his belt, starting to unbuckle it. He laughs because she was hiding in his neck moments ago over a joke about a kink. When she reaches for the button of his pants, his laugh dries up because things are moving kind of fast now. He sheds his pants too before returning back to between her legs. Not that she would let him get away, because she was kissing him again with urgency, holding both sides of his face.

His hands land on her thighs and when she gasps, he slowly slides them up. Her skirt bunches up to her stomach. One of his hands flies to the matching panties before slowing, gently rubbing. Like last night, she keens at the touch. He slowly repeats what he did the night before, pulling the panties to the side and working her up carefully. He thinks he could watch her come over and over again and never get tired of it.

When she comes down, he watches her. “Okay?” She nods, her smile slightly dazed. “Still want that shower?” Another dazed nod, and he laughs. “Okay, let me help.”

He helps her off the counter, and when she’s on her feet, his hands drift from her waist to the button of her skirt. He slowly unhooks it and pulls the zipper, but she shoves it down her legs as soon as the fabric is loose. Jeonghan laughs at the rush she’s in because they really have all night or she could kick him out of the bathroom right now, but he stops laughing when she quickly unhooks her bra and tosses it, along with her panties. His eyes follow her as she walks towards the shower. “Are you coming?”

Y/N tries to breathe deeply under the stream of water, soaking her hair and body. Every time she makes a bold move, she instantly second guesses it. So she’s relieved when she hears the shower door close. Good, she didn’t scare him off yet.

Jeonghan’s arms slide around her waist as he presses into her back. A kiss drops onto her wet shoulder. “Kind of cold in here,” he mumbles. She giggles, spinning them to put him under the hot water. She watches his muscles relax in the warmth. He really is attractive. Always has been really. Tall with a lot of lean muscle. Handsome face. Her hands meet his chest, running down his stomach and wrapping around his waist. He peers down at her with a look of curiosity, but he doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around her either. A kiss presses to her forehead. “Good?”

Y/N nods, head laying on his chest. She’s not sure if that’s a lie because she’s pretty sure he can feel her heart beat where she leans into him. For the thousandth time, she wishes this wasn’t so nerve wrecking. She remembers being so much smoother about these things a long time ago. His hand pats the back of her head mindlessly and it soothes her a bit.

“I can feel you tensing up. Stop stressing, angel,” he says simply. “Now turn around so I can wash your hair.”

This does the trick. As soon as his fingers scrape across her scalp, Y/N’s mind goes blank. He’s meticulous about lathering and massaging and she lets him do it for as long as he wants, primarily because it feels good but also because he’s right. She’s nervous and this eases it a bit. In the back of her mind, she wonders if he’s working off his own nervous energy with this too, but she can’t be sure because she can’t open her eyes right now to look at him.

He gently pulls her under the water, rinsing out her hair. Then she’s out of the water and he’s using conditioner on the length. While it sits, he comes around to her front, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. The whole thing is warm and by the time he rinses her hair out again she’s putty in his hands. “Better,” he laughs against her lips. It’s not a question. He must be able to feel the lack of tension now.

“Shut up, you make me nervous,” Y/N laughs too.

She hears a strange laugh and she cracks open her eyes to look up at him. “Me? First of all, we’ve known each other for years, Y/N. There’s no reason for that. Secondly, it’s you who makes me nervous.”

Y/N feels her eyes widen in outrage. “Hannie, that’s such a double standard. Why would I make you nervous? I’ve been an absolute klutz this whole time!”

“That’s exactly why!” He laughs, though there’s a serious look in his eyes. “You could do no wrong in my book and yet you’re afraid of making a fool out of yourself in front of me.”

Some of the tension is creeping back in her shoulders and his hands come up to rub them, forcing them to stay relaxed. “It’s only because I care about your opinion more than anyone else’s,” Y/N says weakly.

“And you have nothing to worry about there. You’re already my favorite person. And even if you weren’t already, I think you’d have me hooked in a heartbeat.”

His sincerity makes her eyes water. “Stop making me want you,” Y/N half jokes. It makes Jeonghan laugh loudly and it echoes throughout the shower.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he says simply and then his lips are on hers again. He’s walking her back to the shower wall and when her back hits the tile, she can’t help but hiss at the cold. His tongue swipes at her mouth when she makes the sound and then it feels like he’s all over her. His hands are swiping up and down her body again, but it feels ten times better without clothes in the way. On one particular swipe up, one hand closes around her breast and it rips a moan from her. But his tongue still presses into her mouth unforgivingly and it kind of feels like he’s trying to eat her alive. His thumb rubs across her nipple and it pebbles instantly, scrambling her brain for a second.

His other hand tilts her head and his face buries in her neck. His lips start at her ear, sucking and licking right below it and it makes her feel like she’s floating. Then his lips and teeth scrape down the column of her neck. At the base, he sucks lightly. She might have a bruise tomorrow, but that barely entered her mind before it’s gone again, because now his tongue is sweeping across her nipple. Her body arches into him because she just can’t help it, and he must like it, because his hand flies to the small of her back to keep her there.

Y/N’s breathing is a bit ragged when he comes back up to her lips. One hand still plays with one of her breasts and the one at her back skates to her ass, grabbing a handful there gently. She’s totally aware of his hardened length pressing against her stomach and it’s all she can think about now. So she pushes him away.

There’s a flash of panic on his face and he looks like he might be getting ready to apologize, but Y/N smiles up at him as she falls to her knees in front of him. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching the realization and subsequent awe spread across his face. “Angel, you don’t have to…”

The complaint dies on his tongue when her hand wraps around him, stroking lightly. A light curse falls from his mouth and he doesn’t look away. When her lips wrap around his tip, he hisses, another curse tumbling out. Jeonghan’s fingers thread into her wet hair but there’s nothing forceful about it. He lets her bob and lick at her pace, taking as much and then as little as she wants.

It’s when her lips wrap around his base that his grip on her hair tightens. It loosens right away and Y/N kind of misses it already. So she pulls her mouth off of him to look up. “You can do that again.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.” His voice sounds kind of choked.

“You won’t. Besides, there’s that newly discovered strength kink, remember?” Y/N says it teasingly, but there’s a thrill when she watches his eyes glaze over a bit more at the mention of it. His fingers grip tighter when she takes him back into her mouth again. He’s starting to become a little impatient and his fingers keep gripping tighter. The sting on her scalp makes her moan and it surprises even her. She’s historically been pretty vanilla. She’s not so naive to think this is really as rough as it can get, but the edge to it is new and has her dripping.

Jeonghan pulls out and takes a small step forward, gently pushing her back and head against the shower wall. The position is a little uncomfortable and new, but she can’t help but nod immediately when Jeonghan strokes her hair and asks her if she’s okay. She’s more than okay because she can have the best of both worlds here, the gentleness that she needs, but also a little of the rough edge that she’s craving now.

He guides himself back into her mouth and then he’s the one pumping in and out. The movement is gentle and so are his hands on her head, but there’s no mistaking the control he has right now. It makes her eyes roll back a little and she grips his thighs to ground herself.

And that’s a good thing when the thrusts become hastier. She knows he’s putting in work to remain careful, but she can feel that he’s getting close. The sounds falling from his mouth make her wrap her hands to the back of his thighs, encouraging him to be closer.

“Fuck… Angel, I’m going to come. Where do you want it?”

Something possesses her. That’s the only explanation because she’s never done anything like this before. Y/N pushes him by the hip gently and he backs up, keening into her hand when she wraps it around him, pumping fast. “My face.”

He looks totally gone now, and a broken moan falls from his lips, watching her stick out her tongue. He curses again when he comes. Some lands on her tongue, but most of it paints her cheek and nose. He’s hauling her to her feet immediately and her back is against the shower wall, arms wrapping around his shoulders for stability due to her weak knees. It’s entirely erotic that he presses his tongue into her mouth, not the least bit put off by the taste and feel of himself all over her face. When he comes down from his high, he’s laughing in shock. “Holy fuck, you’re so hot.”

It makes her laugh loudly too, and relief floods her body that he liked the risk she took. Then he’s guiding her under the water, helping her rinse and wash her face, careful not to get any soap in her eyes. Then she does the same to him. They finish washing each other, but the water is still hot and they stay under the spray, holding each other.

“Too much?” Jeonghan asks carefully, kissing her neck.

Y/N shakes her head. “No… in fact, I could do more.”

His head pops up and he looks down at her with a mixture of caution and excitement. “Is that so?” When she nods, he asks, “and what were you thinking?”

Y/N feels a smirk cross her face and she’s not sure where the confidence comes from. “Can we explore that strength kink a little more?”

Jeonghan looks elated. “Yeah, I can manage that. Just tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N lets him push her back against the shower wall that she’s becoming really familiar with. His hands stroke across her body for a while as he kisses her and she’s waits patiently. She doesn’t know how to navigate this, but he seems to and she trusts him.

His hands wrap around her arched back, gripping and massaging, and it has her sighing into his mouth, especially the lower they go. A few rougher grips to her ass and they fall to the back of her thighs. When he lifts abruptly, she squeals in surprise, clinging to his shoulders. Instinctively, her legs fly around his waist and then her back is against the shower wall again.

Jeonghan is laughing again. “Sorry, should have warned you.”

Y/N lightly slaps his shoulder. “Yeah right, you wanted to scare me.” She can tell she’s right because he giggles into her neck. Whatever lecture she might give him is gone when his hands grope at her ass again. Everything about the position is exposing and she’s totally at his mercy. His cock is hard against her again and the feel of it so close to where she wants it has her huffing.

But he knows her too well. “Patience, angel.” His hips stay anchored against her, along with one hand on her ass, but the other comes back up to her breast and she’s falling back flat into the shower wall at the feeling. His lips graze her jaw. “How far do you want to go?”

She has a hard time answering because he’s pinching lightly at her nipples. “All the way.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a few beats before finally asking, “Like this?”

Y/N considers it through the haze of his touch. It’s been a long time and there might be better positions to reintroduce her to all of this, but she wants him so badly right now that it doesn’t matter. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. Tell me how it feels. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He says this against her jaw and when she nods, he pulls back again. He reaches down and the head of his cock rubs against her opening a few times before notching there, and she sucks in a breath. She can feel the stretch already and she’s still not breathing quite yet. “Deep breath, angel. It’ll be okay, but stop me if it’s not.” She gives another nod and then his lips are on hers and he’s pushing in slowly.

The stretch is insane and tears prick her eyes. It’s not exactly pain, but there’s something uncomfortable about it. It reminds her of her first time and she feels silly for the comparison. She focuses on his lips and when he’s fully seated she’s pleased by the sound he makes against her mouth. He stays there and his hands stroke her body gently. He leans back to look at her. “Okay?”

Y/N sighs and laughs shortly, a little overwhelmed at the feeling. “Yeah, just… go slow.”

She expects the same pain or discomfort when he pulls out most of the way, but the drag against her walls has her pinching her eyebrows together as the feeling shifts. “Oh.” It falls from her mouth before she can stop it and then he’s slowly pushing back in and it feels good. Really good actually.

Jeonghan starts a slow and steady pace and Y/N leans forward to kiss him again. There are some broken gasps and moans from both of them. When he hits a particular spot, Y/N feels herself clench around him and he hisses. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Another clench. Jeonghan chuckles. “Praise kink, too? Y/N, really?”

“You’re really making fun of me right now?” Y/N whines, slightly breathless.

Jeonghan seems more focused now. His thrusts become more intense and now words are flowing freely from his mouth. “So pretty like this, letting me have you against the wall. And you sound so good, I just want to keep pulling those little noises from you. Everything about you is so perfect.” She clenches repeatedly on him and his thrusts are coming faster. Y/N’s nails dig into his shoulders. “Can I see you come? I know you’re close.”

She was close. Dangerously close in fact. It takes a single pinch of her nipple and him hitting a certain spot deep inside her and suddenly she’s seeing stars. Moans fall from her mouth and she can do very little to help him keep a hold of her. His grip gets tight on her hips and he’s pounding her through her orgasm. “You’re going to make me come, angel. Where do you want it?”

“Inside, Hannie,” her request is weak but there’s something about it that propels him forward, a deep groan escaping his throat. His grip on her hips is so tight it hurts as he buries himself deeply and comes inside of her. After a few deep breaths, he eases her down to her feet. HIs grip is still tight because she’s unsteady. Both of their breathing is ragged still, but she’s giggling at him. “Breeding kink?”

Jeonghan guffaws. “Shut up. Let’s hurry up and get out of here. The water’s cold now.”

The next day, Seungcheol and Byeol have a list of things they want to do alone. Byeol is nervous to say so when she knocks on Y/N and Jeonghan’s hotel room door as they’re getting ready. They both shrug it off and tell her to go have fun. After all, they’re here to start planning their wedding and they’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world. Byeol starts to apologize but Jeonghan waves her off and says he and Y/N will go find something to do.

And that’s actually a blessing in disguise. They might have been toeing the line before, but now they’ve straight up crossed it. But every single time they’ve gone near this line lately, it’s been in private. As Jeonghan stops replaying how Y/N rode him this morning while he sat on the tile bench in the shower, he worries about how he can navigate this public facet of whatever they’re doing. And the ‘whatever they’re doing’ part stresses him out more, because a label would be really useful right about now.

It’s probably a good thing that he has some time to figure out how to approach this without being under the watchful eye of Seungcheol or Byeol, who have been giving him knowing looks and making comments since Y/N and Jeonghan reunited a few months ago. Seungcheol apparently doesn’t keep any secrets from Byeol so she knows all of Jeonghan’s dirty laundry dating back years.

They’re dressing down today since they aren’t visiting any venues. At least that’s what he thinks until Y/N comes out of the bathroom in a sun dress. Jeonghan looks down at his jeans, t-shirt, and flannel and scoffs at her in offense. “Do you have to be so pretty?”

Y/N becomes shy, cheeks turning pink. “What are you talking about? It’s just a dress and some makeup.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty without it.” Jeonghan says and she shoves him on the way out of the door. They go to a small cafe down the street and Jeonghan decides to start simply. When they’re about to cross the street, he laces his fingers with hers. Once they get to the other side of the street, he doesn’t let go until it’s time to open the door and usher her into the cafe.

He reattaches their hands when they arrive at Jardin du Luxembourg and walk the garden. At lunch, he sits next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. He’s happy when she leans into him. He lets go of her when they arrive for a tour at the Palace of Versailles because she’s too busy admiring it anyway to pay any attention to him.

Until dinner, they wander around the city together. When they stop and look at something, his hand falls to her back. And at dinner, he brushes a crumb off her mouth.

She doesn’t pull away once and in fact usually leans into his touch. It leaves him elated, almost to the point of overwhelm because of how things are shifting so fast between them. It traps him in his thoughts as they stroll around after dinner aimlessly. They’re in a park that Jeonghan didn’t pay attention to the name of when they entered, when Y/N squeezes his hand. “Don’t bottle it up.”

Jeonghan glances at her and huffs a laugh. “That’s my line.”

“And I’m stealing it. You’re not usually this quiet. What’s on your mind?” Y/N says sweetly.

Jeonghan bites his lip, looking around the park, though he can’t see much because it’s so dark. “Is a lot of this overwhelming to you too?”

Y/N hums. “Yes and no.” He can’t help but look at her curiously. “Yes because things are changing so fast between us and I don’t know where it’s going. No, because it’s you.” The words warm him. After a few beats, she looks up at him. “Do you want to slow things down? Or stop all together?”

His response is instantaneous. “No, I don’t. I’m loving all of it. It just makes my head spin… Do you want to stop or slow down?”

Y/N shakes her head just as fast. “No, I love it too. That doesn’t make it less scary though.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It is scary.” Jeonghan agreed without an ounce of humor. He’s surprised when Y/N laughs.

“I feel kind of stupid now. We’ve only ever talked about what our silly marriage pact would look like. We’ve just been winging any of the steps before that, assuming that that pact ever comes to fruition and wasn’t just a joke.”

Jeonghan does finally laugh and he throws his arm around her to pull her into his side. “Yeah, I guess we have marriage on the brain lately.” He doesn’t feel awkward often but he does right now. “Is this where we have the dreaded ‘what are we’ conversation?”

Y/N chuckles. “Maybe it’s time… what do you want?”

Jeonghan thinks carefully and he can feel her squirm against his side out of nervousness. But he takes his time because this is a pivotal moment and it needs to be honest. He pictures having days like this for the rest of his life. Holding her hand as they walk, shielding her in a crowd, sharing his food with her. He imagines taking her back to the hotel later. He’s still hesitant to assume they’re on the same page when it comes to sex, but he’d be patient as long as she’s still interested in exploring it. But it’s laughable that all of that feels foreign and weird in a good way, and yet the idea of marrying her seems totally natural. The idea warms his chest and he imagines making this kind of trip to pick out a venue for themselves. But then he knows there’s no need for a trip like this when that little bed and breakfast at the winery exists. He thinks about being married to her and living out the rest of his life with her. Again, it’s laughable that it’s not hard to imagine.

He leans over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I could marry you tomorrow, but I’ll settle for being your boyfriend for a while until then if you’ll have me.”

There’s humor in it and he knows she’s picked up on it, but her eyes water when she looks up at him. Her sparkle’s back. “Okay. Just until you’re ready to get me a ring though!”

Y/N and Jeonghan are not subtle the next morning when they meet Seungcheol and Byeol to go to the airport. They might have their bags but their free shands are linked. Seungcheol and Byeol are about to ‘aww’ at them, but the taxi driver honks his horn impatiently.

When they board the plane, Jeonghan knows something’s up the moment Byeol sits in his seat next to Y/N with a grin. Jeonghan scoffs and sits next to Seungcheol a couple rows up. As he buckles his seat belt, Seungcheol’s expression is nearly maniacal and Jeonghan does his best to ignore it. He really can’t ignore it when Seungcheol sings, “So… something you want to tell me?”

Not that he wants to ignore it because he can’t help but beam. “Are you always this nosy?”

Seungcheol nods, nonplussed. “Did it finally happen? After years of me patiently waiting?”

Jeonghan scoffs, but he’s incredibly entertained. “Years is a stretch. And I recall you punching me one time over something like this. Pick a lane, Cheol.”

“Oh, I picked a lane when we were 22 after I apologized for hitting you. I’m just happy it’s finally happening. How did it happen though?” Seungcheol asks curiously.

“You want to talk about what I might be doing with your sister? We’ll get thrown off the plane if you hit me here,” Jeonghan needles just to watch Seungcheol’s face twist with disgust.

After a gag, he says, “No! Spare me the details about that. What I mean is, are you together? And how did that happen?”

Jeonghan decides he’s tortured Seungcheol enough for now, so he grins. “Yes, we’re together. It’s been happening slowly, I think. But we made it official last night.”

Seungcheol genuinely looks happy and it makes Jeonghan kind of emotional in a way that he can’t quite explain. Seungcheol’s opinion matters to him, particularly when it comes to who he dates. Seungcheol never said anything unkind about Sora, but Jeonghan knew he hadn’t cared much for her. And it’s not just anyone that he’s dating now. It’s Y/N. The way Seungcheol grins right now means he approves and it’s a huge weight off of Jeonghan’s shoulders. He doesn’t have to say it and he can’t anyway, because a flight attendant is on the intercom now giving instructions.

They arrive in Mykonos and they are barely out of the airport doors when Jeonghan and Y/N look at Byeol and then back at each other. Silently, they know they were right and they’ll be back here soon. The hotel they check into is the best one yet for this trip in Jeonghan’s opinion. It’s an ocean side hotel with private beach access and the view from the deck and the bed right inside is incredible. There’s also a rooftop pool that Seungcheol says is the entire reason he picked this place, but they all want to enjoy the beach while the sun is still out.

Jeonghan and Y/N change and get to the beach first. They pick a couple lounge chairs and Y/N promptly hands him a bottle of sunscreen and sits at the foot of his seat. He doesn’t hesitate to drag her closer so that when he’s done layering her back in the lotion he can wrap his arms around her and place a kiss on her cheek. That’s how Seungcheol and Byeol find them. Byeol coos while Seungcheol gags. “People are going to think you guys are the ones getting married,” Seungcheol needles.

Y/N peeks back at Jeonghan with a secretive look before grinning at her brother. “Maybe we will. We’ll try not to upstage your wedding.” Jeonghan laughs into her shoulder and Byeol giggles behind her hand while Seungcheol waves them all off with a scoff.

That night, Jeonghan and Y/N shower together again. It’s overwhelming how Jeonghan can’t get enough of her and the great irony is that she’s been there all along. It’s not just about lightly pushing her into the shower wall and taking her from behind, though he thoroughly enjoys that. It’s the smile she gives him when she turns back around and demands to wash his hair for him, and he only allows it if she goes first. Or the fact that she sits on the closed toilet seat while he brushes and dries her hair after the shower. Or when he helps her pull a t-shirt over her head right before they crawl into bed. He’s always loved taking care of her in the little ways that best friends do but this is a whole new level.

He realizes they have to go back to the real world in a matter of days and there will be an adjustment to that too. He’s spent every second with her for a week now, and a pretty significant amount together in the weeks before that, and he has to go back to work now? And she has to go back to work? And they don’t live together?

Jeonghan puts a pin in that thought for now. He just got her back, he doesn’t want to scare her off.

The next couple days in Greece fly by. There are a few sight-seeing things that they go do, but they spend a lot of time on the beach. On their last night, Seungcheol and Byeol turn in early because they all have an early flight in the morning to go back home, but Y/N and Jeonghan opt to check out the rooftop pool if only to feel like they’re delaying the inevitable. It’s warm when they get in since the sun hasn’t been down for more than a couple hours. The busiest tourist season here has already past and there seem to be very few people staying in this hotel. That means they get the pool to themselves. They look out at the scenery for a while but Jeonghan gets bored of it eventually, beginning to pepper kisses to her neck as he stands behind her.

“Are you ready to go home tomorrow?” Y/N muses, still looking out at the night sky.

Jeonghan groans into her shoulder. “No. Can’t we just keep touring Europe forever? A new city every week until we find one we really like and just stay there forever?”

Y/N giggles. “That sounds like a dream, but I don’t think either of us are doing quite that well at our jobs yet. I don’t know about you, but I’m running out of leave time anyway.”

Jeonghan grumbled. He was running out of leave time too, due to this trip and his time recovering after his accident and he really would have to get back to work in just a few days. “I hope you know I’ll be bothering you every spare second you have.”

“That’s good to hear… I was beginning to worry about what things might be like when we get back,” Y/N answers softly and Jeonghan squeezes her a little tighter.

“How do you want to spend the last night of freedom? It’s a long travel day tomorrow trapped in a cramped plane,” Jeonghan asked lightly and thankfully it lifted the mood.

Y/N hums, smirking over her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Jeonghan beams. “Was that a dirty joke? Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?” He laughs, pinching her waist lightly, making her giggle. He pecks her cheek. “Well since you asked, we can make use of the lovely shower again. Or the bed, which was pretty nice. Or maybe the deck or the little dining table in our room.” She’s giggling more and Jeonghan’s chest is about to burst. “Or right here in the pool.”

He gets so much enjoyment out of watching her face light up with surprise. “The pool? But anyone could come by.” Her eyes flit to the rooftop entrance behind him.

“Yeah, angel. That’s kind of the point. What, no exhibition kink for you?” He teases, but she’s still looking around and it feels like the answer is a ‘no’. So he presses another kiss to her cheek. “I’m messing with you. We don’t have to do any of it, least of all out here.”

She’s turned in his arms now, eyes flitting between the door and his face and there’s some serious concentration going on. He waits patiently. Her eyes suddenly narrow up at him. “Do you have an exhibition kink?”

He purses his lips to keep from laughing because she looks so serious. “Yeah, I’m into it. But you need to be too or else we’re not doing anything out here.”

“I’m not saying no, Hannie. I’m just nervous.” And she sounds like it when she laughs.

He watches her face closely. Finally, he offers, “We could start and if you want to stop you just say so.”

Y/N gives him a hesitant yet sweet smile before folding her hands into the hair at the back of his neck. “Okay.”

He chuckles against her lips. “Cute.” But then she’s pulling him against her and her tongue is in his mouth. This is something Jeonghan doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of - her mouth and the little sounds she makes, her hands roaming his body, and the feel of her pressed against him. This doesn’t have to even go any farther honestly. He entertains the idea of doing this all night right here. Until the pool is too cold, that is.

Jeonghan grips her waist and lifts her to sit on the edge of the pool. He sees the flash of excitement just like any time he lifts or moves her with some force and he smiles, walking in between her spread legs. Because of the height difference now, he can’t press against her like before, but it’s almost better the way she’s above him now. Now he’s the one tilting his head up and she’s the one leaning down when they kiss again. The urgency of her lips and the way her nails scrape at the back of his scalp make him groan into her mouth. He was trying to play this safe and let her lead, but he couldn’t help how his hands drifted after that.

He buries one hand in her wet hair, careful not to snag any tangles, and the other cups her breast as he just leans back and watches her. The touch is soft at first, but the way she moans makes him grope a little harder. When he runs his fingers over her nipple through her bikini it’s already stiff and he feels her shudder under his hands. She seems to have forgotten whatever anxieties she had before, so he pulls the triangular fabric to the side to expose her breast. He loses track of time on how long he stands there and works her up, pinching her nipple, groping her, stroking her. At some point, he exposes the other breast too to do the same there. She’s breathless by the time he finally leans down to wrap his lips around her nipple. She jerks violently when he bites, but the sound that comes out of her mouth is too much like a moan for her to not like it so he does it a few more times.

He’s back up at her lips, a hand still toying with her breast when he asks, “Okay?” It’s clear she’s lost in the bliss because he barely gets a nod, and he debates on pulling her back to reality a bit. Selfishly, he’s enjoying this far too much. He wasn’t kidding about a little bit of an exhibition kink, but she was so nervous before. He grips her chin to look at him and it’s a firmer touch than he’d usually use with her, but it does the trick because her eyes snap open. “Verbal answer, angel.”

“I’m good,” she mumbles. “Keep going, please.”

He places a single peck to her lips and then steps back because he’s already decided what he wants to try next. His hand lands on her upper chest, fingers grazing her neck. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes shift at the touch and he’ll remember that for later. Instead, he says, “Lie back,” and gently pushes her. She falls back onto her forearms, still looking at him with wide, trusting eyes and it makes him want to burst in so many ways because she looks like a dream. Especially when his hands spread her knees wide and one lands between her legs, cupping her through the string bikini, and she throws her head back.

His hand on her chest slides to her breast as he pushes the bottoms to the side with the other to stroke her. Her hips jerk when he rubs her clit and then it’s clear she’s having a hard time staying upright on her forearms when he slides two fingers into her, all the while playing with her nipple. “It’s okay, angel, just lay back,” he urges, but she shakes her head.

“Want to see you.”

Both her words and the sound of her voice makes Jeonghan smile, pumping his fingers a bit faster. “I have an idea.”

Y/N gives him an unfocused look. “Yeah?”

He decides he wants to keep her talking when she’s like this because it’s making him rock hard. “How many times do you think you can come?”

“Overstimulation kink?” She laughs faintly. “I don’t know, Hannie.” The sound of his name in that voice almost makes him come right then. “The most I’ve ever had is with you.”

Jeonghan can’t help the smirk that falls on his lips. “What do you think about me testing that limit? All you’d have to do is tell me to stop when you’ve had enough.” His fingers are still pumping into her and playing with her nipples and she’s barely with him for the conversation. Firmly, he says, “Angel, you need to tell me what you want and what you’re okay with, or I’ll have to stop.”

Panic flashes across her face. “Please don’t stop,” she says in a desperate way that makes his mind melt. “Make me come as many times as I can take.”

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asked and she nods, mumbling something unintelligible, but it’s enough for Jeonghan now. His hand leaves her breast, sliding up to her neck and that same look from earlier is back, especially when his fingers wrap around her throat delicately. He doesn’t seem to need to apply any real pressure because the placement alone is enough to have her clenching hard on his fingers. “Oh, I’m going to have to use this later,” he groaned. “Come on, let me see you come.” It’s more demanding of a tone than he’d normally use but it has her coming all over his fingers in seconds. He watches her pussy pulsate around them and it makes him ache in his swim trunks.

He pulls his fingers out and looks down at her one more time when she seems to be hearing him. “Remember, say stop. Or tap me three times.” As soon as he gets a nod, he’s leaning down, hands spreading her knees even wider.

She barely gets a “what are you-“ out of her mouth before his tongue swipes across her pussy and he moans at the taste. This is something they hadn’t done yet and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. But his goal is to see how many orgasms he can give her, so he doesn’t wait long to wrap his lips around her clit, flicking his tongue across it. She’s already clenching when he slides two fingers back inside her. She comes fast before she even realizes it from the sounds of it, but he keeps going and she’s adopting a whine. She leans on one forearm now as the other hand flies into his hair to grip hard. And that’s how she tips over the edge a third, fourth, and fifth time.

She’s laying flat on her back when he stands up straight and pulls his fingers out of her. “What do you think? Can you take more?” He asks gently and it’s kind of a joke, because she doesn’t look like she can take much more, but his eyes widen when she nods. He decides he needs to get her somewhere private right now. He pulls her swimsuit back into place carefully and helps her sit up. “Come on, let’s go back to the room.”

The answer is nine times. They get approximately two hours of sleep before they have to be up to go catch their flight. They both sleep most of the way home.

“Alright, I’ve met all of your requirements. I waited until we were both off. I bought the wine and dumplings. I put your stupid horror movie on. I’ve refrained from teasing you for nearly a week. Now tell me, dammit,” Joshua demanded, turning to her on the couch. Y/N gives him an entertained look.

It’s Friday around lunch time and she and Joshua finally both had a day off together. He’d started nagging her as soon as she walked in the door on Saturday night, despite it being almost midnight, but Y/N had held up a hand and made a few demands. He had whined, but when she didn’t budge he just huffed and went to bed. But he made it clear first thing this morning that they had plans.

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Y/N says, trying to hide her smirk behind a dumpling.

Joshua looks like his head might explode. “Y/N! You spent over a week in Europe with your best friend, who you’re into, and who has been attached to your back, quite literally, every moment that neither of you are at work, and you have nothing to tell me?”

Y/N hides a laugh. Joshua is right, of course. If they were both off, Jeonghan was here or she was at his apartment. He happened to be at work right now, which is why Joshua had this opportunity to interrogate her. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Oh, I know something happened, I just want the details,” Joshua insisted. He hadn’t even touched his food or drink yet because he was too busy glaring.

“You are such a gossip,” Y/N snorted. “Fine, here it goes. We’re together. We got together during the trip.”

“… And?” Joshua waved his hands to demand more.

“And what?” Y/N gave him a baffled look. “I told you what’s going on. We’re dating. What more do you need? Do you want to know everywhere we had sex too?”

It was a joke but it has Joshua gasping. “Are you serious? Everywhere, as in multiple times?”

“Yeah, but that’s not something you need to know about,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

He adopts a sly look. “Was it one of the outfits I made you pack?”

Y/N rolls her eyes yet again. “Technically speaking, it was a contributor. I hated it but he didn’t.” She still didn’t like that royal purple dress, but it got hung back up in her closet somewhere in the middle, rather than the dark recesses in the back, just in case she’d ever entertain pulling it out for Jeonghan again.

“I knew it,” Joshua yells, throwing a fist into the air in celebration. “You’re welcome. I got you laid after a very, very, very long dry spell.”

“Mhm, well, you can stop worrying about my sex life now. Thank you so much,” Y/N says sarcastically.

“Oh, no. We’re circling back to that. But for now all I want to know is if you’re happy.”Y/N peers over her styrofoam box of dumplings at Joshua. He looks pretty serious now, waiting for an answer. She doesn’t have to think long before she smiles and nods. “And it feels right?” He adds.

“Yeah it does,” Y/N says lightly. “Everything always has with him. Even though we were both nervous wrecks when this started to shift into something else, it still felt right.”

Joshua gives her a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. You’ve been alone too long and I worry about you. And from what I’ve seen of you two together, it’s seamless.”

“Thanks, Joshua. I know I haven’t been the easiest to live with in that regard. I mope around a lot.”

“You do,” Joshua laughs. “But you have this… glow about you now that I think people only get when they’re in love. Is that what this is?”

Y/N bit her lip. “I’m not sure yet… I’ve always loved him, but now it’s something strong but I can’t assign a name to it right now.” After a moment, she smiles, adding, “And according to Hannie, it’s a sparkle, not a glow.”

“Sparkle. That’s a good word for it,” Joshua laughs, agreeing. “Can I request one thing though?” Y/N hums. “Can you guys not fuck loudly while I’m sleeping? I have a very serious job and I need my rest! These walls are thin!” A dumpling flies into his face.

Byeol had, in fact, picked Greece, the exact hotel they’d stayed at to be specific. Both Byeol and Seungcheol had given Y/N and Jeonghan perplexed looks when they laughed at the ‘huge’ announcement. Y/N had just simply said, “We know, Byeol. We knew it would be Greece all along.” This made Byeol spiral a bit because she felt like she’d wasted so much time and money to figure it out when two of her best friends had already known, and Seungcheol spent a long time convincing her it was no big deal and they just had a good vacation either way. He also refused to let her see the receipts in his email. None of them actually wanted to know how much he’d spent on this little exploratory trip.

So, they book the venue for next May and take the all-inclusive wedding package that the venue offers. That really means they just have to show up with themselves, their outfits, and the rings and the thought makes Byeol’s shoulders relax immediately. They start pouring over lists of meals, cakes, decor, and flowers that the hotel can provide. When Jeonghan’s eyes widen at the stack of papers in front of him, Y/N promises this is nothing compared to what it could be. Most weddings would require going through multiple vendors and that opens up an overwhelming amount of options than what is listed from the hotel. It’s actually a blessing in disguise to have a wedding coordinator from the hotel put these sort of things together because they know what would look best, given the setting.

So, most of October, November, and December are spent doing that in their spare moments together. The week before Christmas, all that’s left to get back to the hotel is the decor and flower choices, which are being held up by the many color swatches spread across Byeol and Seungcheol’s dining room table. They can’t pick the wedding colors and that confuses Jeonghan and Seungcheol when they’re handed nearly identical shades of blue to pick from. One is cyan and one is dark turquoise according to the printing on the bottom of the swatch but there’s so little difference that both men randomly pick one. The girls ultimately decide on dark turquoise and send their answers for decor and flowers off.

On Christmas Eve in the afternoon, Jeonghan shows up at Y/N’s apartment and lets himself in. “I’m almost ready!” A yell comes from down the hall and it makes Jeonghan laugh. He laughs harder when he comes into her room and sees that she is, in fact, not almost ready. There are a lot of discarded outfits on the bed, she’s just starting her make up, and her hair is still wet.

“What happened, angel? You said 2pm, right?”

Y/N gives him a frazzled look as he leans on the door frame of the bathroom. “I know, but I overslept. I had to work a couple hours later than I expected and didn’t get here until 7am, and then my alarm didn’t go off at 1!”

She’s speedily doing her makeup, but between tools, Jeonghan puts a hand on her back to interrupt her. “Angel, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. I’m not in a hurry. Dinner will still be there when we get there.”

The mention of dinner makes something flash across her face that Jeonghan hates. It’s because they’re going to meet her father, stepmother, and Jeonghan’s parents for dinner. She would have been frazzled about being late any day of the week, but their destination tonight amplifies her anxiety. “I know, but you know how my father is.”

He does and he bites his tongue as not to add to her anxiety. “And you’re 31, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Take a deep breath and finish getting ready. Slow down some.”

Jeonghan relaxes a little when she listens, taking a few breaths before picking up her makeup again. Then she dries and curls her hair. He leads her out to his car, holding the passenger side door open for her to slide in. During the drive, he tries to focus on quelling her anxiety, but he has his own to deal with and holding her thigh with her hand on top of his helps.

Jeonghan’s not close to his parents and hasn’t really been in a long time. Nothing dramatic, but as soon as he wasn’t their legal responsibility anymore, they took a big step back in the name of giving him independence. That independence also meant a single call once a month while he was in college, and even fewer now that he’s been out. They’d visited him briefly at the hospital after his accident earlier in the year, which surprised him a bit, but they’d only called once since then. So, their relationship wasn’t hostile, but there was some pretty significant distance and coming together for something like this had an air of awkwardness.

Y/N’s, and Seungcheol’s to some extent, was actually hostile however. Their parents had a nasty divorce when they were 15 and their father had left their mother with very little in the separation, including custody. His high priced lawyer had managed to convince a judge that their mother didn’t have the means to care for the twins. During the short time that Y/N and Seungcheol had been in their father’s custody, their father had remarried quickly to the young secretary that he’d been seeing on the side for years. That stepmother, Nari, had been particularly cruel to Y/N, up to and including shipping her off to a boarding school across the country citing behavioral issues. That had always been an asinine reason to Jeonghan because Y/N was as straight laced as a teenager could be and had never talked back to an adult in her life.

Y/N had lasted about three months in boarding school before the twins’ mother had had enough and drove up to pull her out of the school and take her home. That started a nasty custody battle, which their mother ultimately won. Since then, the twins didn’t go out of their way to visit their father and their father didn’t reach out either. Christmas Eve dinner was one of the few times that they couldn’t really say no, and Jeonghan didn’t like who either twin became in that house.

They pull up to the front of the house and Jeonghan gives Y/N a few moments to pull herself together. “In and out, a couple of hours. Then we’re at the hotel with some Christmas movies and eggnog.”

Y/N gives him a half-hearted smile. “You don’t like eggnog.”

Jeonghan squeezes her hand. “But you do. Come on.”

The front door flies open when they knock and Sohee greets him with a big smile. Sohee is wife number 4 and Jeonghan has met her a few times, as has Y/N. She’s nice, so much nicer than wifes 2 and 3 that it makes Jeonghan feel a bit bad for her. “I’m so glad you guys could make it! Here, I’ll take your coats. Was the drive okay?” Sohee asks excitedly, ushering them inside.

“Not too bad,” Jeonghan asks, shedding his coat and handing it to Sohee, before turning to Y/N to help her out of her coat.

“We’re not too late, are we? I overslept,” Y/N admitted nervously. Jeonghan’s dimly aware that she would have never admitted this to someone like Nari to use for ammunition.

But Sohee grins kindly. “Oh, no. Dinner’s not quite out yet and we’re just having drinks right now. Rough night?” Sohee asks sympathetically.

“Something like that,” Y/N mumbles with a small smile. Jeonghan imagines she’s still very uncomfortable with the stepmother situation, but she’s warmer to Sohee than he’d seen with Nari or Minju.

Sohee leads them to the sitting room and Jeonghan feels some relief that Seungcheol and Byeol are already here. Their father is in an arm chair and looks like he’s already a few drinks deep. Jeonghan’s heard through the grapevine at work that the big boss has developed a little bit of a habit over the years, but Jeonghan tries to spend very little time with him to see for himself.

Once Y/N and Jeonghan are seated on the couch, Sohee smiles at them. “I’ll make you two a drink. I forget, do you like grenadine?” Both nod their head and Sohee is off.

“Seungcheol and Byeol were just telling me about how the wedding planning is going,” Y/N’s father starts lightly.

Y/N nodded politely. “Yes, it’s all starting to come together. I think it’ll be a beautiful ceremony.”

“That’s all thanks to you, Y/N,” Byeol beamed, before turning to Mr. Choi. “She’s been such a huge help in keeping me sane and on track. Jeonghan, too.”

Mr. Choi nods. “Good to hear.” Then he turns with an expression that Jeonghan has never really seen in 30 years. “I hear you two have some news as well.”

Y/N and Jeonghan glance across the coffee table to Seungcheol and Byeol who give subtle shakes of the head. It’s kind of a mystery how Mr. Choi knows, but Jeonghan nods, smiling professionally. After all, this is his CEO. “Yes, sir. We’ve been dating for a few months now.”

Mr. Choi gives a big grin and Jeonghan feels Y/N grip his hand tightly. “It’s about time.”

Jeonghan feels his eyes widen and Y/N glances to him with matching shock. “Uhm, excuse me?” Y/N asked. It’s to their great surprise that Seungcheol and Byeol are giggling now. This is feeling a bit like the twilight zone because laughter isn’t something that’s terribly common in this house.

“We’ve been taking bets for a long time,” Mr. Choi says vaguely. “Any wedding bells in the future? I have some money at risk and I’d like to know.”

Y/N is still gripping his hand tight and one glance to her tells Jeonghan that she won’t be answering, so Jeonghan speaks up again. “We’re not opposed to it, but things are still very new,” he says diplomatically.

“Fair enough. One wedding at a time, right?” Mr. Choi says lightly again.

Sohee arrives with their drinks as well as Jeonghan’s parents. The same conversations are rehashed with them as well, and Jeonghan does most of the talking when it’s their turn because Y/N’s knuckles are turning white.

At the dining table, Sohee serves a rather lavish meal that she looks pretty proud of. Jeonghan enjoys it, but he sees that Y/N is taking bites only to be polite. Throughout dinner, Mr. Choi, Sohee, and Jeonghan’s parents ask the typical questions of Seungcheol and Byeol regarding wedding planning.

Jeonghan’s mother smiles at them and Jeonghan knows what’s coming because he’s seen that look before. “And when do you plan on having children?”

Byeol flushes a bit but smiles nonetheless, glancing at Seungcheol. “As soon as we’re married?” The older adults laugh.

“Be careful with that, you should enjoy some time by yourselves, because you’ll never have it again,” Jeonghan’s father teases. It makes Jeonghan’s eye twitch because he spent a lot of time with nannies growing up.

“Byeol, will you continue working after you have children?” Sohee asked. She doesn’t seem to mean anything by it. She was a lawyer before marrying Y/N’s father, and still consults on some cases from time to time.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet. Since I’m freelance, I can do a lot on my own schedule, so it might not be necessary to quit working. Plus, I enjoy my work,” Byeol says.

Mr. Choi frowns. “But children are far more important than work, especially for a mother.” Byeol agrees, but Mr. Choi is on a roll, turning to Seungcheol. “You’d want her to work, rather than stay at home?”

“Appa, that’s up to her. Plenty of people make it work and children don’t seem to suffer for it,” Seungcheol says, clearly biting back a bit of impatience.

Mr. Choi turns to Jeonghan and Y/N. “And you two? What will you do when you have children?”

Jeonghan tries to maintain a poker face. “I agree with Seungcheol. Y/N’s spent a lot of time working on her degrees. It would be a shame in a way to not use them.”

“It’s not a waste if it’s for your children,” Mr. Choi snaps. “Y/N, would you seriously continue working, particularly with the crazy schedule you keep?”

There’s a fire in Y/N’s eyes that he doesn’t see often. She’s not quick to anger, but that’s not the case tonight. She’s been at a tipping point since they pulled into the driveway. “Appa, we’ve just started dating. Marriage and children aren’t even part of the conversation for us right now. And even if it was, you’d want me to throw away over a decade of education? I’m not even licensed yet.”

“Your stupid license means very little compared to my grandchild,” Mr. Choi rages.

“Is that what you said to Eomma when she wanted to go to nursing school?” Y/N bites and it makes most jaws at the table drop. Y/N has always been so even tempered and has certainly never talked back to her parents - or anyone older than her for that matter.

Sohee interrupts and does her best to save the conversation, but it does very little to release the tension for the remainder of the dinner. They get through the main course and dessert and Jeonghan makes the excuse that they should go soon. Seungcheol and Byeol look a little relieved to be able to use the same excuse too. Y/N all but runs to the car when Sohee sees them out and Jeonghan is barely out of the driveway before she’s crying.

It’s a short drive to the hotel since they’re visiting Y/N’s mother in town tomorrow morning, but Jeonghan decides that if this lasts long enough to see marriage and children, which he hopes it does, he won’t let her father have this kind of power over her anymore.Act Three

“Would you guys tell me if you were pranking me again?”

A pin drop could be heard at the table and she’s met with six gobsmacked expressions - well, five, and one potentially angry one.

“Why do you ask?” Wonwoo asks carefully, eyes narrowed as he glances around at the other men suspiciously.

They’re out to dinner, something they rarely all get to do. It’s the last week in March and by some miracle everyone was free. Y/N wants to enjoy it because she loves her friends, but she’s beginning to feel paranoid. The last time she felt like this was her senior year of college, when none of these men were her friends, and most of them were plotting against her. Her mood had been noticed and the question had come out of her mouth before she could stop it when they asked how she was.

“Just answer the question first. Did I do something wrong?”

The men glance around the table at each other, before finally, Mingyu looks at her seriously. “No, Y/N. We have not been pranking you. We haven’t even entertained that idea for many, many years.”

“Why do you ask?” Jihoon presses Wonwoo’s initial question.

Y/N huffs, resisting the urge to throw her chopsticks down. “It seems someone is after me again.”

“I’m going to need you to start from the beginning,” Wonwoo insisted protectively.

It started with the bridesmaids dresses. They’d gone for a fitting back in January and Y/N had been the one to place the order and manage communication with the dress shop because it was part of her Maid of Honor duties, and because Byeol was way too stressed about her custom wedding dress that may or may not be ready before they leave for Greece.

One day in February, Y/N gets a call from the dress shop while she’s at work. It’s a very confused consultant asking if she really meant to cancel the order and if the wedding had been cancelled or rescheduled. This makes Y/N blanch. She hopes she’d be one of the first calls Seungcheol or Byeol would make if something like that happened. Especially given that she saw them the day before and they were great. “No, I didn’t cancel the order and the wedding is still very much on as scheduled. What do you mean?”

The frazzled consultant explains that she got a call from someone claiming to be Choi Y/N and that the dress order needed to be canceled. However, when the consultant had reviewed the order, she noticed the phone number that called hadn’t been the one that matched the order record. Thus, she called the number on the order to verify. The consultant assured Y/N that the order was still very much active and would be fulfilled. Crisis averted.

A couple weeks later, another call came through from the same consultant at the same dress shop. “Another consultant said that you need a different size now? No big deal, it looks like we have a few in stock, but I just wanted to double check before I made the change.” Y/N bit her tongue. No, she doesn’t need a new size. The consultant sounds just as suspicious as Y/N is as she verifies all of the dress sizes for Y/N, Ara, and Sora. They’re accurate, and the consultant assures her that this is what will be filled. Crisis averted, again.

Then, last week, Y/N had hosted the bridesmaids at her apartment for a little planning session. The wedding party would be going to Greece a few days early to prepare and throw the bachelor and bachelorette party. They were planning a night out in Mykonos for Byeol and things had seemed to go well. Ara was always nice, and Sora had even been civil throughout the last few meetings. Not friendly, per say, but it felt like progress.

After Y/N shows them out and goes to her room to get ready for bed, she sees her closet open a crack. She’s confused because it’s always totally closed or totally open, never in between. Fear slices through her gut when she opens it to see that the garment bag isn’t zipped fully like it had been when she hung it up earlier that week. She throws it out onto the bed quickly and unzips it to reveal the dress - which has splotches of black ink all over it soaking into the turquoise silk. There’s a broken and drained ink pen from her desk in the bathroom trashcan.

Her first call is to Joshua, who is at work. He’s perplexed by the accusation and insists he hasn’t been in her closet, or her room even, since a couple weeks ago when it had been his turn to do laundry. And nonetheless, she should know he wouldn’t destroy her belongings like that.

Her second call is to Jeonghan, who says that his tux orders have been fine and his tux is pristine in his closet. He also denies any involvement and begins pressing her for answers, but she has to cut the call short to keep things moving.

The third call is to the dress shop which she has to leave a message at. By some miracle, the same consultant calls her back first thing in the morning and she kindly scrambles to find her a replacement quickly after hearing Y/N’s sob story. The consultant makes a comment that leaves her stomach rolling - something about bridesmaids trying to sabotage a wedding and how common it actually is. Y/N decides to store this new dress at Jeonghan’s apartment when it arrives.

And there had been other little things too. Both she and Jeonghan’s locks to their apartment had been tampered with. Jeonghan’s digital keypad entry had just simply locked for too many bad tries, but Y/N’s lock had been jammed to the point that maintenance had to replace their locks. Naturally, the cameras at both of their apartments hadn’t caught much in the hallway to indicate how either of those things had happened.

Then, her computer and phone had also been locked for too many wrong password attempts. Annoying as that had been at the time, she had chalked it up to her being forgetful and having a long day at work. But there was that tingle of anxiety in her gut that she had when she was dodging glitter bombs and sitting on chairs with airhorns underneath them and closely examining hand sanitizer before she used it.

When she’s done explaining, all of them look angry. “Y/N, this is starting to sound like an inside job,” Seungkwan suggests.

“Gee, I wonder who that would be,” Joshua muses humorlessly. “Perhaps the same person that lunges at you in a hospital?”

Y/N frowns. She had a feeling that this was were this was going, but she still asks one more time. “You guys swear this isn’t you?” There are six fervent nods and even a few pinkies that fly out to her. She waves it off, burying her head in her hands. “The wedding is like a month away. What is she going to do when we get to Greece?”

“Y/N, I think you should tell Byeol and Seungcheol. They should know about this,” Seokmin insists, and Mingyu agrees immediately.

“Seungcheol wouldn’t stand for this and I don’t think Byeol would either. It’s not just about their wedding. It’s about the fact that she’s targeting you. Trust me, Seungcheol has a wrath when it comes to that. Do you have any idea how many laps I had to run in senior year of college?”

They all encourage her to go straight to her brother and Byeol and talk to them. Mingyu and Wonwoo both say that they’ll even drop out of the wedding party to maintain an even number if the couple chooses to remove Sora. This encouragement isn’t new because Jeonghan has been encouraging her to say something for weeks, and even made a few threats to say something himself.

When she and Jeonghan shows up at her brother’s apartment the next day, she decides that she’s just be here to issue a warning. Byeol and Sora have been friends for years, almost as long as Byeol and Y/N have been, and she’s not interested in ruining a friendship. Y/N wants the couple to have a stress free, relaxed wedding and behavior like this might disrupt that peace.

Y/N gives them a watered down version of the story and no one looks very happy. Jeonghan stops eating to rub his eyes like an ache is building behind them. Seungcheol looks livid. Byeol is a blend of confused and upset.

“And you’re sure that its her?” Byeol asked for the third time.

Y/N is about to give the same answer - I’m afraid so - but Jeonghan cuts her off. “Yeah, this has Sora all over it. She’s not trying to ruin your wedding, Byeol. She’s trying to ruin Y/N as the Maid of Honor.”

Seungcheol and Byeol look at each other in silence for a long time. Finally, Seungcheol says, “I can ask Wonwoo or Mingyu to drop out. One of them can be ‘unofficial’ members of the wedding party and still go with us early as planned, but they don’t have to stand at the altar with us.” Byeol just frowns at him. They’d had a vision of what their day would look like and this is a deviation.

Y/N waves her hands. “No, please don’t make any rash decisions because of this. Everything is fine. I just wanted to know that there could be some tension.” Y/N glances to Jeonghan. “Jeonghan and I are determined to make this as stress free as possible for you guys, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be informed.”

Byeol looks at Jeonghan. “What do you think? I was under the impression things were getting better between you three, but maybe I was wrong.”

Y/N and Seungcheol can tell Jeonghan is holding back an honest answer. “Byeol, she’s your friend and it’s your day. This is totally up to you. Like Y/N said, we’re dedicated to making this as perfect as possible. We’ll keep doing that whether or not Sora is there.”

That night, Y/N is curled into Jeonghan’s side in his bed. They’ve been quiet since coming home and Y/N wondered if it’s just because they’re tired. Jeonghan is running his hands through her hair when he finally speaks up.

“Why didn’t you tell me everything earlier? I would have said something to her a long time ago if I knew you were dealing with all of this.” Up until dinner, he’d only known something was going on with the dress orders and had encouraged her to say something to Byeol about it. He learned along with Seungcheol and Byeol at dinner just how much had been going on.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’ve been able to save everything so far,” Y/N mumbles.

“But I’m worried now, Y/N,” he huffs. “I told her to leave you alone way back at the engagement dinner in July. I thought she’d let all of this go.”

“Have you talked to her much?” Y/N asks carefully.

“No, I try not to. I’m polite when we’re at wedding planning things, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t go out of my way to talk to her and anytime she calls or texts, I ignore it.”

Y/N bites her lip, hoping she doesn’t sound as insecure as she feels. “Does she reach out often?”

But Jeonghan’s known her too long and he’s turning to face her immediately, grabbing her chin to make her look at him. “You have nothing to worry about, angel. I don’t want anything to do with her and the only reason she’s not blocked right now is because of the wedding. As soon as that’s over, you can press the block button for me if you want.” To punctuate the promise, he pecked her lips which remained in a small pout. “What is it, angel?”

“So you’re happy? With me, I mean.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen, an astounded look taking over his face. “Happy? I’m in love with you. Of course, I am.”

It’s Y/N’s turn to look surprised. “Are you really?” She asks with a tinge of amazement.

Jeonghan is laughing now, pressing a few more kisses to her lips. “Yes. Angel, as smart as you are, you can be so oblivious sometimes. I’ve known it for months, I just didn’t know when to say it.”

Y/N is giggling. “A love confession and an insult in one go. Very romantic of you, Jeonghan.” He presses a few more kisses. “For the record, I’m in love with you too.”

Jeonghan snickers, though he looks elated. “I’m going to marry the shit out of you one day. Just you wait.”

“I told you to get me a ring when you’re ready,” Y/N teases.

“Oh, I know. I’m looking. I can’t bother Seungcheol with it right now, but I will be as soon as he’s back from the honeymoon.” Jeonghan’s fingers dig into her sides, tickling her. She shrieks and then he’s on top of her, kissing her deeply. Y/N feels light as a feather.

The wedding party arrives in Mykonos four days before the wedding. They’re all pretty tired but thankfully the only thing on the list before they can relax for the night is to tour the venue. It’s currently decorated for a wedding scheduled for tomorrow, but the wedding coordinator with the hotel runs through the details as they go. The menu is set and the cake will be ready for viewing in a couple days. The coordinator has samples and pictures of the decor and floral arrangements that are waiting in storage to ensure that the bride is happy with it. Byeol is, of course, very happy with it because Y/N thinks she’s the most agreeable person she’s ever met. But Y/N is not and nitpicks a few things that can be adjusted in the coming days.

The next day, Jeonghan is busy with the groomsmen, because the bachelor party is today. They charter a boat to hang out on the ocean for the day, and when they arrive back at the hotel Jeonghan tells Seungcheol to get ready for some club hopping. To his great surprise, Seungcheol refuses. His nerves have become increasingly fried the closer the ceremony gets and he’s petrified of doing anything that will mean Byeol doesn’t walk down the aisle. Jeonghan, Mingyu, and Wonwoo all insist that this is just for some food and plenty of drinks and other women will be kept far away from him if they try to approach. They know he only has eyes for Byeol, but he’s terrified of giving any impression other than that, even for a split second. As a last resort, Jeonghan has to pull Y/N away from the rooftop pool to talk her twin down. He’s not sure what she says to him, but when she leaves the groom’s suite, she simply smiles, kisses Jeonghan, and tells them all to have a good time.

The next day, it’s Y/N’s turn to stay busy. She and the girls wake up very early to go to the spa within the hotel. After massages, facials, and nails, Y/N guides the group to a photography studio a few blocks away. Byeol blushes bright red when Y/N tells her what she has in mind, but eventually agrees. Y/N had seen a cute little trend on TikTok where the bride would do a boudoir photoshoot and throughout the reception the bridesmaids would present pictures to the groom in an envelope. Y/N really just wanted an excuse to embarrass her brother on his big day. Then, Y/N had pulled a few favors from the hotel and they had set up a little scavenger hunt around Mykonos. Y/N crashes into bed as soon as she gets into the room and Jeonghan lets her go to sleep without another word.

The next day is the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Y/N and Jeonghan insist that Seungcheol and Byeol take it easy and let them run the show. Both are so nervous about the next day that they hand over the reigns immediately. Y/N and Jeonghan meticulously work through the details step by step - the processional, where and how to stand, order of the ceremony, and the recessional. Jeonghan checks the music while Y/N does one last check of the decor and floral arrangements as the hotel staff bring them in to start setting up.

By the time dinner rolls around, both Seungcheol and Byeol’s families have arrived. Y/N and Jeonghan eat quickly before they’re playing host and hostess to allow Seungcheol and Byeol to breathe. They don’t see much of each other until it’s way past midnight and they fall into bed.

Jeonghan’s almost asleep already when Y/N mumbles, “I don’t want all of this at our wedding.” Jeonghan chuckles.

“Neither do I. Let’s just elope and not mention it to anyone for a few months.”

Y/N giggles, but she’s dozing off fast. Right before she drifts off, she feels Jeonghan kiss her forehead.

Y/N is up long before Jeonghan and she’s sort of envious at how soundly he’s still sleeping when she throws on some clothes and leaves for the bridal suite. The hairstylist and makeup artist are waiting when Y/N arrives and she spends the time between then and when the bride and other bridesmaids arrive going over the looks that they’ve all requested. Byeol was very generous with the options she’ll allow, but that means doing four different looks for four different women. As soon as Byeol arrives, Y/N pushes her to the salon chair and lets the makeup artist get started. Y/N is the last in the chair herself, but she’s okay with that because the other three women are totally ready without any hiccups.

Y/N rushes up to the ballroom and then the rooftop as soon as her heels are on and when she gets to the rooftop she finds a familiar face. Joshua waves at her as she approaches. “Are you surviving?”

Y/N scoffs. “Not sure. Sorry, I have to talk on the go.” Joshua shrugs, trailing after her as she walks the rooftop, checking that place cards are right and the centerpieces are in fact centered.

“You’re type A personality is showing,” Joshua teases. “Are you going to be a total bridezilla at your own wedding? Just wondering if I dodged a bullet.”

“Uh, no,” Y/N laughs. “I won’t be doing all of this. Speaking of dodging a bullet, are you glad everyone stopped trying to set us up?”

“I’m happy if you’re happy, Y/N,” Joshua muses. “Although I did quite enjoy watching you rip into them time after time. Dinner and a show every single time.”

Y/N snorts. “You’ll live. It’s time for you to settle down now. Ask them to set you up with someone else.”

Joshua scrunches his face up. “Eh. I don’t know that I trust them to do that. But if you have any old sorority friends, you could introduce me.”

A light bulb goes off in Y/N’s head. “Now that you mention it… Find me later at the reception.” Y/N’s phone buzzes and she curses. “I have to go, I’ll see you later though.”

Joshua laughs as she sprints to the door.

Jeonghan is in the groom’s suite, looking in the mirror as he fiddles with his tie. He’s undone it and redone it half a dozen times throughout the day and it still doesn’t look right. He could fix it for Seungcheol and the other groomsmen, but he’s hopeless at fixing one for himself.

There’s a knock on the open door and relief floods him. They’ve left the door open for most of the day because there’s just been too much traffic in and out and there are only so many keycards, and he turns, expecting to see Y/N. He’d just texted her for help a few minutes ago.

But it’s not Y/N.

“Can I help you?” Jeonghan asks coldly, turning back to the mirror and his tie.

There are heeled footsteps behind him and then Sora is turning him by the shoulder to face her. “Let me fix it. You’ve always been terrible at this.” Jeonghan glances at the clock and realizes he doesn’t have a lot of time to argue. He really needs to be upstairs right now and so does she, and he doesn’t really want to see Y/N’s panicked face if he comes up there with a haphazard tie moments before the ceremony. He refuses to look at Sora as she undoes the tie and knots it properly, sliding it up to his neck snugly. As soon as it’s in place, he takes a few big steps back and loosens the tie just a bit.

“We need to go,” Jeonghan says, tone still icy. He’s patting his pockets to make sure the ring box is still there.

“Is this how it’s going to be with us from now on? You let that bitch worm her way back in,” Sora huffs.

“Don’t call her that. You should have never called her that, but least of all now that she’s my girlfriend,” Jeonghan snaps.

“Your girlfriend that won’t even marry you?” Sora hisses, stepping towards him.

Her words give him pause. “How would you know anything about that? You two haven’t had a civil conversation about anything but this wedding.”

Sora looks pretty satisfied with herself and it makes Jeonghan’s stomach churn. “I just heard her talking to Joshua upstairs. She says she won’t be doing all of this, but it sure sounded to me like she won’t be getting married at all. How does it feel to know that the person you left me for after you refused to marry me doesn’t want to marry you?” Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. He’s sure this is a misunderstanding. Sora smirks. “Did she tell you that their friends kept trying to set her and Joshua up? Are you really sure they’re just roommates?”

Jeonghan’s teeth grind painfully. Joshua was a sore subject for him. And he hadn’t known they had been set up before, if Sora’s telling the truth. “What’s your point, Sora?”

Sora softens, stepping far too close to him. Her hand lands on his chest and his stomach churns faster. “My point is, she’s not right for you. You could just come back to me. That’s what I want, actually.”

Jeonghan doesn’t know what to say. He hates how easily Sora can make him doubt things that he’s always known as fact. She made him feel bad all those times that he thought about reaching out to Y/N, saying she wouldn’t want to hear from him. It felt inconceivable at the time given how close he and Y/N once were, especially when they hadn’t parted on bad terms, but there was a trickle of doubt that kept him from dialing her number so many times.

And then Y/N had heavily implied that she’d marry him with all of the times she said the words ‘buy me a ring when you’re ready’. He’s sure Sora must have misunderstood what she heard, but maybe Y/N’s opinion had changed? And then there was Joshua. His stomach is totally rolling now. He’s thought far too long about this and Sora must have taken it as acceptance because she’s pressed against him and her lips are on his all of the sudden. Jeonghan’s sure he’s not breathing and he begs his body to react and push her away. Especially when he hears a voice in the door way.

“What the fuck?” Y/N looks pissed. In fact, she’s angrier than he’s ever seen her.

Jeonghan shoves Sora away roughly, panic flooding his whole body. “Y/N, I can explain.” It feels so lame that that’s the only thing he can think to say and it does nothing to dim the fire in Y/N’s eyes. He crosses the room quickly and she snatches her arm away from him when he reaches out.

“We don’t have time for that, Jeonghan. We have a wedding to attend, right fucking now! I need both of you upstairs and in line in thirty seconds.” Y/N’s marching to the elevator and Jeonghan numbly follows. Inside the elevator, he can’t look at Sora and really wishes she wasn’t there, and he would get on his knees and beg for Y/N to so much as glance at him right now. But the elevator doors slide open and they’re at the entrance to the ballroom.

Y/N has slapped a big smile on her face as she ushers everyone in line as the music starts. Jeonghan doesn’t really have a choice but to slap a smile on his face too and follow suit, lining up next to her. It’s his best friend’s wedding after all and he’s promised to help make it go off without a hitch.

And it does. It’s executed flawlessly thanks to Y/N’s direction. She’s talking to him throughout photos and the reception on the rooftop, but only about wedding details. Jeonghan hopes that the mood doesn’t alarm Seungcheol and Byeol, or at the very least they just think that it’s the stress of the event. Jeonghan wants nothing more than to pull her off to the side and explain what she saw, but they both stay busy the whole night hosting.

His anxiety is at an all time high when he and Y/N see everyone to the elevator bays to turn in around 3am. They wait for an empty elevator to go to their own room and she’s not acknowledging him. She doesn’t acknowledge him when she swipes the keycard and enters the room, or when she goes straight to the little bar in the corner of the room that Seungcheol had paid for, pouring a glass of wine. He sits at the small dining table and watches her.

Finally, he steels himself and speaks because he can’t stand the silence anymore. “Y/N, will you please let me explain?” He might as well be begging.

Her back is to him but he can see the tension rise in her shoulders. “What is there to explain?”

Jeonghan puts his head in his hands, trying to rub away the headache that’s been plaguing him since the ceremony. “I know what you saw, and I know it looked bad, but I promise there’s an explanation and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Jeonghan, I’m sure your explanation won’t make me feel better right now,” she says shortly, draining her glass.

“Please, just let me try,” Jeonghan begs desperately.

Y/N puts the glass down next to the bar sink with a little force, and it shatters on impact and shards clatter across the counter and into the sink. She wheels around on him. “No! I don’t want to hear it, Jeonghan. You told me a month ago that you wanted nothing to do with her and then you’re making out with her minutes before we have to walk down the aisle together at Cheol’s wedding. No explanation is good enough for that.”

Jeonghan feels his eyes burn. “So, what? Is that it? You won’t let me explain and we end things now? Will you even talk to me when we get home tomorrow?” He’s becoming angry and stands up to pace. “What happened to finding our way out of this if it didn’t work out?”

“That was before you cheated on me with your ex,” Y/N snaps. “The ex you said not to worry about.”

“She came on to me!” Jeonghan shouts. “If you’d just let me explain, you’d know I didn’t want it. She was spewing some shit about you and making me doubt things as she does bests and then she was kissing me. Moments before you came in, by the way.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jeonghan. You shouldn’t have let her even get that close to you!” Y/N waves a bloody hand at him. Whatever he might yell in response catches in his throat and he’s stomping across the room to her, grabbing her wrist. He has to use way more force than he’s ever used with her because she’s fighting him hard, but he manages to open up her fist and see the cut in her hand. Blood drips down onto the tile. He curses.

“Look at it. Do you need to go to the hospital?” Jeonghan demands, panic and anxiety replacing his anger with every second that passes. Y/N’s got angry tears in her eyes and she too busy glaring at him to follow his instructions. “I’m serious, Y/N. Tell me if we need to go right now,” he bites harshly.

Y/N glances down and huffs, cursing as she rips her arm away. “Get me a hand towel or something before we go.”

Jeonghan watches quietly throughout their hospital visit as she gets treated. It’s not deep and won’t cause lasting damage, but they have to give her a few stitches and she’ll probably need to take some time off of work to recover. Both Y/N and Jeonghan give a half-hearted laugh when one of the nurses joke that it must have been some wedding. Jeonghan had almost forgotten in the midst of the fight and the rush to the hospital that they’re still in wedding clothes.

It’s nearly 7am when they get back to their hotel room and they don’t bother changing into pajamas and going to bed because they need to be at the airport for a flight in a matter of hours and neither of them will be getting any sleep anyway. They sit on opposite sides of the deck in their travel clothes in silence. Jeonghan asks the question he fears the most. “What now?”

He doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s crying. He can hear it in her voice and it feels like a knife in his chest. “I don’t know, Hannie. I need some time.” He feels like he could cry too now.

Jeonghan gives Y/N time. It’s a painful task, and he takes up a few extra assignments at work to stay busy. It’s an excuse to not go home to an empty apartment and think about any of this mess, really, but his supervisor is willing to offer him overtime to get some things done so he takes it.

He’s waiting on a call from Y/N and that hasn’t come yet, but others certainly have. Seungcheol video calls from Greece to check in and Jeonghan slaps on a smile for him because he knows Seungcheol will get on a plane to kick his ass the moment he knows he’s done something to Y/N. Sora has also called him, but he’s been dodging those pretty aggressively.

The one that surprises him is Joshua, who is friendly enough when he asks if they can meet for a drink. This is far from the typical for the two of them because they’ve never particularly been buddies, but Jeonghan agrees because it’s a way to find out how Y/N is doing. Jeonghan’s almost sure that the whole point of Joshua asking to meet is to give him a good reaming, but he’ll accept it if he can get a few answers out of it.

It’s been a week and a half since the wedding when their schedules finally align and Joshua is already sitting at a table in scrubs when Jeonghan arrives. Things are pleasant enough as they order a round of drinks but Joshua kicks things off soon after those drinks arrive and the waiter has walked away. “You’re kind of a dick, do you know that?”

Jeonghan purses his lips. “Is that your opinion? Or is that Y/N’s right now?” He asks this despite fearing the answer. But the radio silence from Y/N since they arrived home has been totally unnerving and he can only imagine the worst now.

“Oh, that’s my opinion. She hasn’t said much about it. I had to pry what little information I got out of her. So now I’m here to ask you. What the fuck happened?” Joshua demands.

Jeonghan gives him a skeptical look. “I thought you’d be thrilled that I fucked up, what with the fact that you’re half in love with her.”

Joshua adopts a glare. “We’ll circle back to that. I want to know what happened and why she’s not moved from her bed in days.” Jeonghan’s eyes squeeze shut. So it wasn’t just him suffering, huh. It somehow didn’t make him feel any better.

With a sigh, Jeonghan sits up. “The short answer is that Sora came on to me right before the ceremony and Y/N saw it. Sora’s a sore subject for both of us.”

“She came on to you, or you let her come onto you?” Joshua asks coldly.

Jeonghan chews on the inside of his cheek. “I see your point…” Jeonghan rubs his eyes. “Sora has a talent for worming her way into my mind and making me doubt things. I guess I’m not totally impervious to it now like I thought. That’s what she was doing right before Y/N came in.”

“And what exactly was she making you doubt?” Joshua presses and Jeonghan gives him a look. “I’m serious. I’d like to think I know Y/N pretty well and I’d like to set some things straight for you if I can.”

“Why would you help me with that?” Jeonghan hisses in confusion. Joshua gives him a dry look that makes Jeonghan huff. “Sora and I broke up because she wanted to get married and I didn’t. She gave me an ultimatum and I broke things off. And then Y/N and I got together and I felt differently about the topic with her. I’ve been ring shopping already for fuck’s sake.” Jeonghan sighs. “But then Sora overheard Y/N make a comment to you that she wouldn’t be doing anything like the wedding we were attending, and Sora implied that it meant that she didn’t want to get married to me, period. And then there’s you, in general.”

Joshua reels back in his seat. “Me? What do I have to do with this?”

Jeonghan sputtered in barely contained frustration. “What do you mean? You’re her male roommate, who she’s dated and slept with, and who is in love with her. Anyone in my position would have some feelings about that.” Jeonghan huffs but his jaw drops as Joshua begins to laugh. As it turns into a cackle, it starts getting the attention of the tables around them. “What is so fucking funny?” Jeonghan snaps.

“What’s so fucking funny is how dense you are,” Joshua snickers, trying to calm himself.

“Then explain to me what I should be seeing here,” Jeonghan bites.

Joshua waves him off. “Fine. She’s not into me.” He’s waving his hands in amusement again. “She hasn’t been since that stunt we pulled back in college. And yes, I’m into her. I’m not an idiot. But because I’m not an idiot, I know not to push my luck. We’re just friends. Our friends have tried to set us up for eight years with zero success, but they continued only because they know how I feel, and only stopped when she started dating you.”

“And not a single thing has happened since college?” Jeonghan asks doubtfully.

This has Joshua laughing again as he shakes his head. “No. Trust me, if I thought for a moment it would have worked before you guys got together I would have made a move, but I know I’m just a friend to her. You could have just asked her that. Actually, you should have just have asked her that months ago if it bothered you.”

Jeonghan buries his head in his hands and groans. “I didn’t want to make her think I didn’t trust her, because I do. It’s my own insecurity to deal with. And after the wedding, she didn’t exactly give me an opportunity to say much before she started breaking stuff.” Jeonghan pops his head up to look at Joshua. “How’s her hand anyway?”

Joshua shrugs. “Fine. She got her stitches out, but Dr. Hwang is making her take time off to fully recover. Surgeons kind of need their hands to be fully functional.” Joshua gives him a moment to take in the news before he moves on. “Now what are you going to do to fix this?”

“I don’t know. Does she even want me to? Do you?”

“Let me rephrase,” Joshua takes on a firm voice that has Jeonghan’s head shooting up. “Fix this or I’ll be making a move.” Jeonghan’s mind freezes.

“But you just said she wasn’t into you,” Jeonghan says weakly.

Joshua is glaring again and Jeonghan had no idea he had such dramatic mood swings until this conversation. “You’ve left her in a position where she might finally be open to it if I play my cards right. Now let me help you fix this, or I’ll be going home to have a talk of my own.”

“Why would you do that?” Joshua gives Jeonghan a blank stare at his question. “I mean, why would you help me if you want her too?”

“She’s really happy with you when you’re not making out with your ex. So, what will it be?”

The next day, Jeonghan sits in a cafe, leg bouncing nervously. He looks out of the window and people watches, but he’s not really taking it in. He’s rehearsing over and over again in his head what he wants to say. He’s had enough of this whole situation and it’s time to make it right.

The chair across from him slides out and a woman sits. Jeonghan gestures to the coffee in front of her. She smiles widely and says thanks, but Jeonghan doesn’t return the smile or give her a response. Her smile fades a bit. “So, you wanted to talk?”

Jeonghan looks at Sora for a long moment. She’s beautiful and he’s always thought so. She’s also intelligent. She’s a marketing manager for a firm that serves some of the top companies in the country, and she’s very good at her job. That’s actually how they started dating. Her beauty and intelligence were two of the qualities that attracted him to her initially.

The third thing that attracted him to her was how obviously she was into him. Jeonghan admits he likes to be admired, particularly when he was younger and attention from pretty women was everything to him, and Sora had always done that. He can see she still admires him from where he’s sitting right now.

But over the years, he realized that those three things were double edged swords. She used her beauty to charm others to get what she wanted, and then when that didn’t work, she used her intelligence to manipulate people into doing what she wanted. And even the admiration she had for him turned sour when it became intense jealousy with the primary target being Y/N.

No, he knows he made the right choice in walking away from her last year, because he knows he’d never want to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. And he needs to set some things straight with her, regardless of what happens with Y/N from this point forward.

“We need to iron some things out,” Jeonghan starts and Sora nods, a bit of hope in her eyes. Jeonghan bites his tongue because he’s about to dash it. “I don’t want to be with you.”

The light in her eyes goes out right away and she grips the plastic coffee cup a little tighter. “What?”

“I do not want to be with you,” he repeats firmly. “You might be under the impression that something changed when you came onto me right before the wedding. It didn’t.”

Sora’s chin wobbles. “But… I heard you and Y/N broke up. I thought that’s why you called me. To fix things between us.”

Jeonghan shakes his head. He’s not sure how Sora knows any of this because he’s not talking about it and Joshua implied that Y/N isn’t either, but it doesn’t really matter right now. “No. Technically Y/N and I haven’t broken up, but I can’t say for sure that it’s not coming. But regardless of what happens between Y/N and I, whether we fix it or not, I need you to know where I stand.” He doesn’t feel much when her eyes water because he’s certain it’s a weapon.

“What does she have that I don’t?” Jeonghan doesn’t have an answer, so Sora crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, looking outside at the street. “It was always like this, Jeonghan. I had such a big crush on you in college, and you never looked at me unless Y/N happened to be the one bringing us together. She chased after every other guy but you, and I watched you watch her do it.” Sora angrily wipes tears off her cheeks. “And then we graduated and my firm did that project with your company. And I asked you out and you said yes. But she was always right fucking there,” she hisses. Jeonghan stays silent.

“And it was such a blessing when she got too busy with med school and you guys started to drift. I thought maybe I had you. Just me. I finally didn’t have to share you. But that didn’t seem to matter if you never wanted to marry me. Tell me, do you want to marry her?” Sora snaps. Jeonghan blinks at her and she scoffs. “Naturally. Yet another thing she has that I don’t.”

“Sora…” Jeonghan starts. “I think it’s always been her. Even when we were kids. No one else had a chance if she was an option. I recognize how unfair that is to you, and I’m sorry about that, genuinely. I don’t think I’d be very happy either if roles were reversed for us. But you need to stop trying to sabotage everything for her.” He watches Sora’s eyes widen a bit. “I know you tried to ruin the dress orders twice and that you actually did destroy her dress. You’re really lucky that Seungcheol and Byeol didn’t kick you out of the wedding when they found out. Y/N managed to talk them out of it. Not to mention trying to break into our apartments and her devices.”

Sora’s chin is trembling again. “So this is it? It’s always going to be her.”

Jeonghan bites his lip and only hesitates a beat before nodding. Sora deflates, grabbing her bag and her coffee. “Fine. Fuck you for wasting five years of my life.” Jeonghan watches her march out of the cafe, but he stays for a while gathering his thoughts. For good measure, he pulls out his phone and blocks her.

Y/N looks in the full length mirror. She looks fine, she supposes, but she really wishes she was still in bed right now. Instead, she’s in a dress and heels, with her hair and makeup done. She can’t believe she’s entertaining this request.

Joshua had come to her room last night when he got off work, beaming. Y/N had introduced him to Ara at the wedding reception two weeks ago and it seemed like they’d hit it off right away. They’d gone out for coffee once since getting back home and Joshua told Y/N that he’d finally asked her to dinner. Y/N had given him a half smile from under her covers and told him that she hoped it went well. She meant it and felt like they’d be a good match. Y/N had narrowed her eyes when Joshua smirked.

“You could actually help me with that, now that you mention it.”

“How so?” Y/N asked cautiously.

“You know Ara well and you know me well. How about a double date so you can help us out?”

Y/N had buried her head under the covers in an attempt to not cry. “Joshua, I’m not interested in a double date. You should know that.”

Her covers had been yanked away from her head as Joshua sat down. “Don’t consider it a double date then. Consider it going to dinner and helping out two of your best friends. You don’t even have to look at the guy. He’s a coworker of Ara’s that wants to give his stamp of approval on me anyway. He’s not there for a double date either, really.” Y/N is still pouting up at him. “Please, Y/N? Just a couple hours and a free meal and then you can come back here and hide again. We’re going out for sushi.” He teases.

Y/N had relented because sushi sounded good and Joshua jumped up. “Great! I’ll tell your non-date to come and pick you up at 7:30 tomorrow. Be ready.” He’s half way out of her bedroom before he sticks his head back in. “Wear something nice. Maybe that purple dress.”

She absolutely did not pick out the purple dress. She couldn’t even look at it when she’d opened her closet earlier. Instead, she’s in a silky floral dress that hits her calf but has a slit up the left side. She’s still uncomfortable in it, but it’s more flattering than that damn purple dress in her opinion. She takes her time going to the door when there’s a knock. She’s not interested in dating this poor guy, but he doesn’t need to be subjected to her bad mood, so she does her best to smile when she opens the door. The half-hearted smile drops when she sees who it is.

“Jeonghan?” He’s dressed up as well, in dress pants, a dress shirt, and a tie. He smiles awkwardly and she notices he’s holding flowers. “What… are you doing here?” She asks carefully.

“I hear we’re going on a date.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. So Joshua’s been plotting. Y/N holds the door open with her heeled foot, crossing her arms. “Is that so?”

Jeonghan’s smile dims a little. “That was the plan anyway… I’m realizing that I maybe shouldn’t have listened to Joshua.”

Y/N stares at him for a long moment. He looks nervous, something that Jeonghan rarely is. And he’s gone as far as to meet with Joshua and plot something like this just to see her. Silently, she holds the door open, stepping out of the way. After a beat, Jeonghan enters. When the door is closed, he awkwardly hands her the flowers. They’re a variety of different colored daisies and it butters her right up because they’re her favorite. He glances down at her dress. “They match,” Jeonghan muses.

Grabbing the flowers, Y/N walks to the kitchen to find a vase. She can’t let some flowers soften her up that much so quickly. Jeonghan’s still hovering in the entry way when she comes back, placing the vase on the dining room table. She keeps her distance, crossing her arms again. “Thanks for the flowers.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan says easily. When she doesn’t respond, he bites his lip. “I’m sorry we plotted this thing. I could have just called you, but I chickened out every time.”

“Why?” Y/N finds herself asking.

“Because you wanted time? And because I was afraid of what you’d say when you were done with that time? Still am, frankly, but I was starting to feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin if I didn't see you.”

Y/N looks at the flowers. “Is there even a double date?”

Jeonghan laughs, sounding embarrassed. “No, there’s not. It’s just us if we go.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/N asks and Jeonghan just blinks at her for a few moments.

“I want to talk to you. And maybe fix this if you’ll let me. I don’t care if that’s at a restaurant or here or anywhere else for that matter.”

Y/N looks around her apartment for a moment before plopping down into one of the dining room chairs, crossing her legs and arms. “Order us some food. I don’t want to have this conversation in public.” She watches Jeonghan’s face fill with anxiety - or rather more anxiety than before. She shakes her head. “If I’m going to cry while eating sushi, I want it to be in private. That’s all.”

Her words don’t seem to release any of Jeonghan’s anxiety and he moves in slow motion, sliding out the chair across from her and pulling out his phone. Y/N watches the TV that’s still playing in the next room and Jeonghan lets her until the food gets there. He gets the order at the door when it arrives and places her food in front of her. They eat in crushing silence, despite neither of them having much of an appetite.

Finally, Y/N says, “Explain this to me.”

Jeonghan sucks in a breath and exhales slowly, trying to remain calm. “Sora came in just a couple minutes before you did. She fixed my tie and I let her because I knew we were running late, but she started an argument before we could leave.” Jeonghan scoffs, looking at the flowers because he’s afraid of what kind of expression Y/N might be wearing. “The thing is, Sora is a master manipulator. I see it now, but I didn’t for a long time. She knows just the right thing to say to win every argument. She always has. In this particular one, she said she overheard you talking to Joshua. Something about how you wouldn’t be doing all of this when you got married. She twisted it to make it sound like you wouldn’t marry me at all and it fucked with me because I knew we’d talked about this already. That stupid marriage pact is the whole reason we even started exploring this relationship.” Jeonghan runs a hand down his face. “And then there was Joshua.”

“Joshua?” Y/N gives him a quizzical look. “What does he have to do with this?”

Jeonghan bit back a scoff. He shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t know how Joshua felt, but he’s not about to tell her. Joshua might have his own second chance if this conversation goes south, anyway. “Sora overheard you guys talking about being set up by your friends. I hadn’t known about it. And I’ll be honest, Joshua isn’t my favorite person. I don’t think I’m a jealous person, but his relationship with you made me insecure for years.”

Y/N stares at him for a few moments. “Made? That’s not the case anymore?”

Jeonghan hesitates. “There are still things that I have to come to terms with, but he’s set me straight on the important things. And before you start yelling at me, he’s already told me I should have just talked to you about it.”

Y/N’s jaw is tight. “And how does all of that lead to you making out with Sora?”

“She got into my head. I shouldn’t have let her, because I knew how she was by then. But I started to doubt a lot of things about us and then suddenly she was kissing me. I swear I didn’t start it and I didn't want it. I was just too stunned to push her away immediately and then you were right there.” Jeonghan puts his head in his hands. “God, that sounds so fucking lame. What a fucking cliche.”

There’s a long beat of silence. So long in fact that Jeonghan thinks things are done now and she’ll be showing him the door and blocking his number. His eyes are starting to burn when he hears a laugh. It’s one he’s never heard from her and his head snaps up to look at her. There’s something twisted about it, maybe painful even. It makes his eyes burn more because it doesn’t sound good. “Yeah, it is. It’s right out of a bad movie.” She swipes a hand down her face. “How did we get here, Hannie?”

Jeonghan scoffs. “I don’t know, angel.” There’s a little bit of light that fills her eyes when he says her nickname. But he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. A little nickname won’t fix this. “What now? Do we break up? Try to go back to being friends if we can?”

Y/N does a little more staring, pursing her lips. “Is that what you want?”

“No!” Jeonghan cried before clenching his jaw tight. “What I mean is… If I have a say, I want to fix this and be with you again. But I don’t have a say here. You do. If you choose to just be friends or never see me again, that’s fair too.”

“What would you do about Sora if I agreed to see you again?” Y/N asked carefully.

“No matter what you pick, she’s gone for good. We’ve already had a conversation and even if she tried to reach out, she’s blocked.”

“You don’t want her back?” Y/N is still careful.

“No,” Jeonghan insisted. “I want you however I can have you.”

“Prove it.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “How? I’ll do whatever you want.”

Y/N is out of her seat now, walking around the table. Her hand lands on his shoulder softly and he stares up at her, transfixed but too afraid to reach out just yet. “Do you remember our first visit to Greece? The question you asked me in the pool that night?”

Jeonghan feels his eyes glaze over a bit thinking about that night and he shakes it off quickly. “What about it? Do you… want to recreate that night?” It sounds too good to be true when he says it so it comes out totally unsure. He watches Y/N take on a mischievous look.

“Something like that.” Her hand goes to the back of his neck, threading through his hair. “Tell me, would you call yourself pretty dominant in bed?”

Fighting to keep his eyes open due to her touch, Jeonghan nods. “Typically.” He doesn’t know why she’s asking because they’ve been having sex for the better part of a year now. She knows he is.

“And you have an overstimulation kink?” Jeonghan nods stiffly at her question. He’s so clueless about where this is going because he came here thinking she would be breaking up with him as soon as she opened the door. Y/N smirks. “I’d like to see if I do too. Let me try.”

Jeonghan’s mouth goes dry, wide eyes looking up at her. “Let me get this right. You’ll take me back if you get to overstimulate me.”

Y/N is still threading through his hair. “I was going to take you back anyway after your explanation. I just so happen to want to have you any way I can have you too.” Her voice takes on a gentle tone and Jeonghan feels like he could cry at the sound. “So, what do you think?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan says simply. “Do whatever you want.”

Jeonghan watches a look he’s never seen take over her face. It has him hardening in his pants before she even tightens her grip on his hair, tilting his head back slightly. “Open.” He blindly does, and two fingers press into his mouth. His eyes drift close as he wraps his mouth around them. “Eyes open, Hannie.” He follows her soft instructions, eyes snapping open. That look is still on her face as she gently pumps her fingers in and out of his mouth. It’s borderline embarrassing how something so little has him keening. Her fingers pull out of his mouth abruptly. “Slide your chair back.”

Clumsily, he does and he flat out moans when her hand lands on his clothed cock. She’s leaning with her face and chest directly in front of him and his breathing catches at the sight. Y/N presses a small kiss to his lips that he chases because it’s the first in two weeks. “Same rules that you always give me apply. Tell me when to stop or tap me three times. Okay?” Jeonghan nods and the hand at the back of his head grips in warning. “Words, baby.”

The name melts him. He’s always Hannie. Baby is new. “Okay.” The hand on his crotch begins to rub and he wants to reach out to her to grab her but he doesn’t know how any of this works. This power dynamic is totally new to him. “Can I touch you?”

Y/N places another sweet kiss on his lips before grinning. “No. Not yet.” A whine threatens to crawl up his throat but he suppresses it and nods, fingers digging into the seat of his chair.

Her hand reaches for his belt and she unhooks it quickly. Then the button and zipper of his pants. When the fabric falls open, she palms him through his boxers and he’s becoming embarrassingly desperate for more of anything rapidly. When she starts to pull that fabric down, his hips jump up from the seat to help her. His cock slaps against his stomach and he stares up at her when she doesn’t reach for him right away. It’s occurring to him that this might not just be about overstimulation, but edging as well. And based on the expression she’s wearing, she’s enjoying it.

Y/N reaches for his tie, loosening the knot a bit, toying with the fabric. “You can use it,” he finds himself saying. Her eyes widen, grin spreading across her face.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’m going to learn a lot about you tonight, aren't I?” Then her lips are on his again and her hand finally finds his cock. He moans right into her mouth at the feeling. He’s already so sensitive that he’s close to the edge with just a few pumps of her hand.

“Angel, I’m going to come,” he mutters into her mouth and it becomes a whine when she pulls her hand away. She’s still kissing his lips lightly.

“Be a good boy, okay?” He feels like he could come untouched at the words, but he nods anyway. He’s surprised when she throws her leg across his lap, straddling his thighs as her dress rides up. She’s not quite where he wants her, but her hand is all of the sudden, working him up again. His nails dig into the wood of the chair painfully now. She’s kissing him again and he can barely react when her tongue touches his. “Tell me when you’re close,” she demands.

“Close,” he responds immediately, and just like before, her hand leaves him. He throws his head back, catching his breath. “Did not take you for having an edging kink,” he laughs and his heart soars when she giggles and he can’t even be mad about the lost orgasm. Then her hand is on him, working him up again. It takes so little time before he’s mumbling ‘close’ again.

“Do you care for this shirt and tie?” She asks lightly, free hand toying with the tie and tugging it a bit. Jeonghan shakes his head. He cares very little for them right now because they’re in the way. “Good. You can come, baby. Go ahead and ruin them.”

He does with just a few more pumps of her hand and his vision goes white for a moment. She’s worked him up hard the last two times and this first orgasm slams into him. Just when he thinks he can catch his breath, he realizes she’s not stopping her movements and a broken moan leaves his throat. “You can touch me for now.” At her words, his hands fly up to her hips, gripping hard. There’s something painful about the intensity he’s feeling, and Y/N kisses his lips a few times. “Remember, stop me or tap me.” He doesn’t because there’s something so nice about the intensity at the same time. He feels his eyes burn again.

“Close,” he mumbles again.

“Go on,” Y/N says simply. Tears prick his eyes and begin to leak out of the corners at the overwhelm of tipping over the edge again so soon, but this time, Y/N does let go of him when he’s done riding it out. His shirt is already ruined, so she places her messy hand on his shoulder. The other one pulls him by the back of his head into her neck and his arms wrap around her instantaneously. Her fingers play with his hair as she lets him catch his breath.

“I love you,” he mumbles into her neck, placing a kiss there.

“I love you too, Hannie,” she says back with ease.

He pulls back to look up at her. A few sweet kisses later and he’s grinning. “I think I could handle more.” Y/N gives him another mischievous look.

Much, much later, Jeonghan is laying on her chest in bed. He feels boneless because she does indeed have huge overstimulation and edging kinks and she knows how to use both torturously. Six orgasms and countless lost ones later, he finally calls it. He’s not sure if he’ll move much tomorrow, but they don’t have plans anyway. The TV is playing in the background but they aren’t really watching it. Jeonghan feels like he could drift off to sleep at any moment, but he resists because just earlier tonight he didn’t know if he would be here ever again. It still feels too good to be true in a way.

“Hannie?” Y/N says.

“Yeah?”

“For the record, I would marry you tomorrow. I would have ten times over by now. I just meant I wouldn’t have such a typical, hectic wedding. I like the idea of eloping, honestly.” Y/N’s chuckling, but Jeonghan doesn’t. Y/N eventually leans her head up to look down at him. “Hannie?”

“One second,” he says roughly, sliding out of her arms. He sees how her face has dropped and he presses a long, intense kiss to her downturned lips. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” On somewhat clumsy legs, he finds his dress pants in the bathroom floor and digs in the pocket. Y/N is sitting up in bed, covers pulled up to her chest. Jeonghan slides back into bed asks her to open her hands. When she does, he drops the item into her open palms. He watches her stare at it for far too long, so he starts talking. “You told me to buy you a ring when I was ready. I’ve been shopping around for months and finally pulled the trigger yesterday.” He laughs awkwardly. “I had no idea how this conversation tonight would go, but I got it anyway. Even if you had turned me away at the door, I still would have probably given it to you because it’s yours. I could never give it to someone else, because there couldn't be anyone else.” She’s still staring, so Jeonghan nudges her. “Come on, see if I really have good tastes or not.”

Hesitantly, Y/N cracks open the box. “Emerald?” She asks, but it sounds a little tearful. Jeonghan places a hand on her back, rubbing cautiously. Emotions are still high and he’s not sure if this is a good or bad reaction building up.

“It’s your favorite, isn't it? And you’ve always preferred silver. Plus the diamond encrusting was totally necessary. It didn’t look right without it.”

She laughs in a sort of choked way. “Yeah, you do have good taste.” She takes it out of the cushion and slides it onto her finger. Jeonghan’s heart races. She looks happy, but he still doesn’t have an answer.

“Good enough to marry me?” He asks weakly.

Y/N grins at him. “I’d say let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to wait until Monday. Can you wait that long?”

Jeonghan laughs, a little breathless. “Yeah, I can do that.” Epilogue

Y/N groans, placing her head on her forearms. Jeonghan lightly strokes her back until she’s ready to sit up. He lets her wipe her mouth with the wad of toilet paper he hands her. “Do you think that’s it?”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Y/N says pitifully. “I’m sorry for ruining the trip.”

“Angel, you didn’t ruin anything. Maybe it’ll pass and we can go out and enjoy our time tomorrow,” Jeonghan insists for the fifth time tonight. “Ready to move?” When she nods, he helps her off the bathroom floor, closing the toilet lid and flushing once she’s up. He hands her a cup of water to rinse her mouth, and then her tooth brush already prepped with toothpaste. He rubs her back gently as she finishes up, and then he’s leading her out of the bathroom and to the couch. He plops another log onto the fire in the fireplace. It had nearly gone out in the time they’d been in the bathroom.

He goes about the room to do a few more things, before coming back to her side and handing her a glass of water. When she finishes it, he takes it from her and pulls her feet into his lap, letting her lie back with her head on the arm of the couch. “Something you want to tell me?” He’s smirking.

Y/N sighs, covering her face. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“Angel,” Jeonghan chuckles. “I’ve known something was up for a couple weeks now. And you not having any wine today would have been the biggest sign of all.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our anniversary, and we’d already booked the winery,” Y/N says miserably.

“It is a little bit pointless to come to a winery if you can’t drink wine, angel. We come here every year, we could break tradition every now and then.” Jeonghan huffs a laugh before turning serious. “When did you find out?”

Y/N sighed again. “I took the test last week. I was late and hadn’t been feeling great.”

“I haven’t missed any doctor’s appointments yet, right?” Jeonghan asks urgently. When Y/N shakes her head, he sighs. “You’re okay with this?” He asks carefully.

She’s peeking at him from between her fingers. “I am. Are you?”

“Of course. We’d have a dozen already if it were physically possible to take care of all of them,” Jeonghan says and it earns him a kick in the stomach. “I’m kidding. You know that,” he laughs.

“Let’s try three kids first and see how we do.”

Jeonghan hums, looking at the fire. “Iseul and Dohyun will be so excited to have a baby sister.”

Another kick lands in his stomach. “First of all, they’re two. They have no concept of that yet. A baby’s just going to show up and they’ll be confused. Second of all, it’s way too early to know it’s a girl. I’m not even showing yet.”

“You really are pregnant. You were so violent when you were pregnant with the twins,” Jeonghan teases, this time holding her feet in place. “I know it’s too early, but I just have a feeling, okay? Iseul needs a little sister.”

“Or Dohyun needs a baby brother,” Y/N counters.

“Eh, we’ll see in a few months, won’t we?” Jeonghan hums. He looks at his wife carefully. “Come here.” He ushers her gently to sit up and crawl into his lap. He grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and throws it over them. He feels her relax against him and he kisses the top of her head. “I love you. And I’m so lucky to have you. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

“I love you too. But Hannie, you tell me that nearly every day,” she giggles into his chest.

“Then I should be saying it every single day instead. Maybe even multiple times a day.” When her giggles die down, he grabs her chin gently, making her look up at him. “Are you happy?” Y/N nods and he pecks her lips. “Okay.”

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #joshua #joshua hong #joshua x reader #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #smut

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eggmeralda · 1 month ago

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I ended up recording bits of songs and mixing them and now I've accidentally finished like 2 of them but shoutout to the winning result which I already did a few days ago unfortunately

#the spreadsheet is pure autism #many many findings been found #measured the amount of bangers vs filler in all my playlists for all the months between jan 2014 to dec 2023 #and the conclusion was: 2017 and 2015 had the most music #2019 and 2014 had the least #however 2014 didn't have a lot of filler whereas 2015 did #but the final finding was that 2017 had the most bangers being listened to per week. and 2019 had the least #and it could've been considered a waste of time bc i technically already knew that bc i'm already on the spectrum about yhat sort of thing #but twas fun so it doesn't matter 👍 i love spreadsheets and analysis and listening to music and remembering everything and combining these #but yeah today and yesterday has just been doing hunros jorna stuff. and it's usually pain bc it involves trying to get a good sound #especially for vocals and guitar. which is hard bc i can barely sing and i literally don't play guitar #but i've managed to get some sexy tones??? and i never know how that happens #on guitar i mean. vocals are forever eguhhhhgheughehhhhhhh #but like i'll have the worst guitar tone in the history of recorded sound and then i'll change like one thing with the eq or something #and then suddenly it's this rich vibey ethereal juicy colourful shiny sound and it's like. how did that happen #but i never know how i did it and i won't be able to recreate it on another song #it's a secret only a guitarist would be able to know and i'm incapable to understanding instruments with more than 4 strings #anyway hi #ramble

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fairyysoup · 16 days ago

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the devil i know

chapter nine: need your body when my fire's cold

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: With the full moon tomorrow, you're feeling a little more pent up than usual. Perfect time for your ex to reappear.

cw: explicit, smut, monsterfucking!!, 🚨reader has gone into heat🚨, oral (f receiving), piv sex, bondage with a paranormal twist, (being gagged and bound by snake tattoos that are telepathically controlled by a demon), magic, possessive behavior, past abusive relationship, attempted assault/murder, death threats, animal death mention, being held at gunpoint, immortal character(s) get shot but it's ok, gore, blood (lots of it in fact), minor character death, trauma, panic attacks, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The day before the full moon, you start to feel feverish.

And not just a normal, regular fever either. Everything feels hot and pulsing, like your body is filled with some unseen electricity that’s surging through you, lighting your nerves on fire. It’s been torturing you all day. All through your shift at the diner, all through the long, grueling hours that it has taken for you to get home. Waves of heat rushing through your body, drenching you from your head to your toes in sweat.

You wondered, at first, if Eddie was possessing you again, but it felt like your body answered that question for you– with a gush of arousal between your legs at the mere thought of him, soaking your panties. You didn’t hear his voice in your head, didn’t feel any sort of weird jerking of your limbs or touches on your skin that shouldn’t have been there. He isn’t possessing you.

You wondered if, maybe, you were somehow channeling that same strange magic again– the kind that he showed you how to use, to transform a water glass into a flower vase. That had felt so concentrated, though, in one area of your body. This is an all over ache, an all over fever. It doesn’t feel like the magic that you’ve used so far.

So… why are you feeling like this?

You considered calling out of work sick, but when you got to the diner and you looked around you, absolutely no one seemed enticing. Like your body was recoiling from anyone else, you physically shuddered at the prospect of anyone touching you but Eddie.

Which would normally be fine, except your body is going insane. Heat below the surface of your skin makes you perspire. The moon hangs overhead, bright white in the sky and looming like it sees you, and knows what you’re going to do tomorrow night.

How you’re going to give yourself over to Eddie, fully. Completely. More than you even have yet– if you can count it, it’ll be the first time you two honestly fuck, and you can’t contain yourself at the thought. Your skin flames, your heart pounds. You feel like climbing up the walls. You’re excited and you’re nervous, and just thinking about the prospect makes… whatever’s happening to your body ruin yet another pair of your underwear.

When you get home again, you run a cold bath. You tear at your clothes as you go, moving through your apartment. Dante is nowhere to be found, somewhere off in the aether doing his hellhound business again. You’re getting used to him coming and going just as often as his previous owner does.

When you sink into a cold bath, it’s like heaven on your overheated skin. You don’t know if this is technically good for you– you wonder if your body can handle this elevated temperature. Considering you can make coffee boil with your touch and telepathically transform glassware, you’re having trouble telling what’s within the realm of possibility, these days.

Inevitably, your thoughts turn to Eddie. Where he is, what he’s doing. If he’s feeling the same thing that you are, this infernal heat that’s taking over your body and making it difficult to focus on anything other than the thought of him.

Your wandering fingers dance over your wet skin and you dream that they could be his, and it’s bad enough that you’re wanting him so much you can practically taste it. But you still haven’t quite faced the realization that started nagging at you just days ago.

You love him.

This was not the plan. Ideally, you figure you would have fucked the demon on the obligatory days once a month, and otherwise you would have gone about your life, business as usual. But you guess that making a deal with a demon doesn’t exactly lend itself to business as usual. And you sure as hell didn’t expect your demon to be so… so perfect.

Perfect for you. A fucking nerd with a heart of gold, even if he does keep running around trying to maim people who hurt you. He’s adorable, he has a sense of humor. He brought you an entire garden’s worth of flowers– they’re still on your counter, miraculously still fresh nearly a week later, half of them stuffed in the vase that he helped you create before he put you back to bed. Tucked you in and kissed your forehead and then fucked off like he knew he’d made you cranky.

You think you’d do anything for him, if he asked.

If a deal with a demon is something like a marriage– and your deal includes the stipulation of sex– wouldn’t it make sense for you to fall for him? Isn’t this all just a stereotypical marriage of convenience trope wrapped up in a little supernatural bow?

Whatever the reason, rational or no, you’re falling for him. That pyroclastic flow of his that you’d sworn would burn you alive when you first met him to make the deal– it's caught you, and it’s completely decimating you. Covering you in ash and boiling your blood. You can hear it roaring in your ears.

…Actually, that’s just you boiling your bath water.

“Shit.”

You leap up, splashing water across the floor. The paint on the sides of the tub is bubbling up and peeling with the heat of the water as it rolls like a jacuzzi and threatens to spill over. You’ve been boiling it as you lay in it, thinking about you and your little demon problem.

Well, that’s the first time you’ve ever managed to do that. So much for cooling off.

You wrap yourself in a towel, and you hope that you won’t manage to set that on fire, or something. Eddie’s mark on your arm twinges, pulsing beneath your skin. You need to calm down, before you manage to burn the fucking house down.

As you pull on a thin nightshirt– something breathable, which hopefully won’t make you sweat too much in your sleep– there’s a knock at your door. You drag your hands down your face and heave a long, extended sigh. You just want to sleep. You just want to wait out the day tomorrow until you have to meet Eddie at the crossroads, and then…

And then you hope for some kind of relief to your frustration.

There’s another knock, more forceful this time. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and steel yourself to go answer the door. Whoever the fuck is bothering you at eight o’clock in the evening better have a good fucking reason.

As you cross your living room to the door, there’s a scuffling from the direction of the couch, and then Dante emerges from the darkness. At first as a shadow, and then he materializes into his full Rottweiler self, and barks. Very, very loudly.

“Dante!” you yelp, trying to shuffle toward the door as the dog jumps at you, barking and trying to bite at the bottom of your nightshirt. “Baby, I know, I’m happy to see you too, but I gotta get the d–”

The door is knocked open just as soon as you unlock it, throwing you back and onto the floor. Dante skids toward the door, snarling, growling and baring his teeth at whoever it is.

“Andy?” You look up to find your ex closing the door behind him. “I thought you were– what are you doing here?”

“Look at what you did to me, you bitch,” Andy snaps, and turns toward you.

You’re a little too distracted to do what he says, though, considering he’s pointing a gun in your face.

Adrenaline cuts through your body like a knife, making your limbs tremble. You can hear Dante barking, distantly, like from underwater. You feel nauseous, a roiling in your gut about to spring forth. Ohhh, this is a bad time to be having a panic attack. “Andy, I don’t know what you’re–”

“Look at what you did to me!” Andy’s shouting makes you tear your eyes fearfully away from the gun. You don’t want to look at his face, but you do. You do, and it makes your stomach lurch even worse– because only half of it is there anymore.

The cops who came to the scene said that Andy had sustained third degree burns, but they didn’t say where. You figured they were probably on his arms, maybe his chest and his legs, since he was reaching for the car door. You didn’t know that half his face had been taken off with it. Clearly, his time in the ICU hasn’t been enough for the wounds to heal properly; the skin is still blistered and oozing in places. His nose a burnt nub, his lips curled back from his teeth in a permanent smile that makes him resemble the phantom of the opera.

Okay. This is really bad. You’ve never tried calling for Eddie before, and you don’t know how to consciously do it– you’ve just done it on accident a few times, and he’s answered. You hope that he answers now.

Eddie. I really really need your help right now. Please.

“Shut that fucking dog up before I put a bullet in it,” Andy snarls, gesturing to Dante with the gun.

“Dante,” you whisper desperately, reaching for the angry, over-protective Rottweiler. “Down. Down, baby, it’s okay.”

Dante backs off, but only a bit.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK.

“You should be in the hospital,” you tell Andy, for lack of anything else to say. You can’t even begin to understand why he’s out, looking the way that he is. He shouldn’t be walking, shouldn’t be talking with the amount of damage he’s taken.

Andy shakes his head. It makes a disgustingly wet clicking sound, and you wonder if somehow, some way, he’s been magicked out of there by your paranormal circumstances. Wouldn’t it just be the comeuppance you deserve? You wonder if tonight is the full moon, and you miscalculated the timing of the ritual. Have you unintentionally sealed your fate? Not held up your end of the bargain?

“I left,” Andy tells you, and his voice is grating and rough with the damage his throat has taken. “As soon as I woke up– couldn’t let you get away with it. Fuckin’ witch.”

You knew Andy to be a hypocrite, sure. He roped you in by claiming to hate the bigots in town who harassed you. He would talk shit about church and about religion, and he could honestly give a fuck about scripture. You’re not sure that he’s ever actually picked up a bible. But then, he could also be known to break up dinners and conversations with the same vapid evangelical rhetoric. “Prepare to meet Jesus your Maker, my friend, because the end of the world is coming in three weeks! Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife… or girlfriend, or whatever.”

It took a while for these moments to really pile up– a few too many dinners and gatherings embarrassingly ruined until it was too much to laugh off as a joke– and ultimately it was what spurred you to finally try to “end” the relationship. This was all, usually, a way of peacocking and showing off his supposed “piety” to the other people in town. Always on a high-horse about something. Usually it stemmed from his intolerance of other people’s idiosyncrasies. But you wouldn’t have expected him to fall into the hunt-the-witch category.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” you retort, starting to scoot backwards on your hands, slithering slowly away from the gun in your face. Eddie’s mark on your wrist throbs, your hands heating up and beginning to scorch the floorboards you crawl across.

“I know that you did.” He shakes the gun, as though it’s going to get his point across further. “I know– I know you fucking did something. Black magic or some– some demonic shit! I felt it! Look at my fucking arm!”

Andy brandishes the arm that you grabbed, when he tried to cut into Eddie’s mark on your wrist. The welt is still angry and red, the clear imprint of your hand raised on his skin.

“You did this to me,” Andy repeats, looking more and more crazed. His blue eyes are wide and flashing angrily as he gestures with his gun. “You fucking cursed me, you marked me with your– your Devil’s mark! I’m gonna make you take it back, put things right. Take it back or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Dante leaps forward again at the jerk of Andy’s gun, putting himself between you and the weapon.

You shake your head, trying to figure out how to calm Andy down, or disarm him. You’re a witch, right? You’re a witch, and you have some kind of crazy power in you– you can transform objects with your mind. It can’t be so hard to just… turn the gun into a rubber chicken. Right?

Rubber chicken, rubber chicken. You can’t focus well enough. Dante is still barking, baring his teeth and growling at Andy. “I don’t know why your car exploded–”

“SHUT THAT FUCKING DOG UP!” Andy roars, and before you can even tell Dante not to, the hellhound’s eyes glow red and he springs for Andy’s legs.

You scream as the gun goes off, your heart plummeting into your stomach. A sob escapes you, tears pricking at your eyes and flowing over onto your cheeks. For a second, you fear that Andy has killed yet another dog in front of you, that you’ll have to bury Dante beside Lacey in the woods. In your panic, you somehow forget that Dante isn’t from your world, and a spirit can’t be killed twice.

You leap forward to grab at Dante, to hold him if he’s been hurt– but Dante isn’t even fazed. The bullet passes through the dog’s body, bounces off the floor and ricochets off into the living room somewhere. He sinks his teeth into Andy’s thigh, tearing into the flesh without remorse. He bears down, snarling, blood spurting from the wound and beginning to drip onto the floor.

Andy howls, and kicks his leg until he’s able to fling Dante off. Dante skids across the floor, and comes to a stop just in front of a pair of black boots, materializing out of the darkness.

A hand drops down, fingers clad with chunky silver rings, and pets the growling hellhound’s blood covered head.

“Good boy,” Eddie murmurs, just as his form solidifies from the shadows. He lifts his hand and sucks the blood from his finger, gazing up through his bangs at Andy.

“Eddie.” Just one look at him, and warmth floods your system. You go to stand and throw yourself at him, but Andy points his gun at you again. He isn’t looking very good– cringing and clutching at his wounded leg, the hand with the gun shaking as he holds it towards you.

“This is your little fucking boyfriend?” He tries to sound intimidating, but his voice wobbles as Eddie lifts himself to his full height, fixing him with an unblinking stare.

Little. Right.

“Sure am.” Eddie tilts his head. “And you’re a piece of shit who’s had too many second chances.”

You watch as Eddie steps forward, and the gun swivels toward him. Andy shouts, “DON’T MOVE! I’ll shoot you, motherfucker!”

“Shoot me while you’re talking, it’ll save time.” Eddie pauses, and bends down to take your burning hand. He gingerly wraps his arm around you and lifts you up easily, like you weigh nothing.

You stand on shaky legs, squeezing his hand as Eddie presses his lips to your feverish forehead. Relief spreads from his kiss like the antidote to a poison, calming your panicked mind and urging your tense muscles to relax. Sniffling, your voice is sticky with tears when you whisper, “I called you.”

“I know,” Eddie says apologetically, wiping your tears away with his clean hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take so lo–”

“Aww aren’t you two just so fucking cute,” Andy sneers, interrupting him. “Guess I’ll just have to kill both of you. I bet you’re just as into that devil shit as she is. Couple of fucking freaks, the both of you.”

Eddie scowls, turning his head to glare at Andy. He squeezes your hand, guiding you to hold onto the counter before he lets you go. “You’re so right. We’re perfect for each other. He doesn’t even know how right he is, does he?”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out– you’re just sort of staring, dumbfounded, as Eddie turns to advance towards Andy.

The gun fires three times, and Eddie stops in place. He puffs out his cheeks and groans, turning toward you with his hands on his hips. Wide-eyed, Eddie looks at you with a perturbed expression. “He shot me.”

Three bullet holes litter his chest, ripped into the fabric of his Metallica t-shirt. There’s no blood that you can see, but the bullets force their way out of his skin, dropping to the ground with a quiet plink, plink, plink.

You blink, and you set your jaw. Beyond the fear, and the tears, your mind burns with malice. “He did.”

“What the fuck?” Andy, looking afraid all of a sudden, like he only just realized that he’s in over his head, starts backing away. “What– what the hell is happening–”

“What, what, what?” Eddie hisses mockingly, his black eyes flashing with amber sparks. He bites his lip as he gazes at you. “I should show him, right?”

Show him…? You don’t even care what Eddie’s suggesting, really. You’re just beyond mad and vibrating with it– nerves and anger and searing infernal heat that’s starting to sizzle the very sweat on your skin, the longer you look at your demon.

You nod at Eddie. “Do it, baby.”

Eddie grins. His eyes catch fire as he turns back to Andy, and grabs him by his throat, lifting him into the air with one bloody hand. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have done that, buddy. Now you’ve made her mad. And I do whatever she wants.”

You watch as his shirt and jacket melt away, baring his chest and a pair of broad, pale shoulders that are covered in the faded scar tissue and tattoos, creeping up onto his neck. The tattoos swirl and move on his skin, like they’re alive– snakes curling and slithering up each arm, bat wings wiggle like they want to pop out of the skin and take flight. Skulls scream and laugh, spiders crawl. There are so many it’s like a second skin, almost as if he carries the entirety of Hell on his body.

His hands grow long claws, his head a pair of horns. And then, just like you thought they would, the wings unfurl. Enormous, they extend from his back, inky black and pointed. Taking up what little space there is in your entryway.

Your breath stutters in your chest, realizing that this is what Eddie’s true form is. The one that he said you wouldn’t like, if you saw it.

He was very very wrong about that.

Andy kicks, his blistered skin oozing at the pressure of Eddie’s hand squeezing him, and he howls at the sudden contact. Dropping the gun so that he can grab at Eddie’s arm, he gurgles, “What the hell are you?”

Eddie’s eyes burn as red as the blood on his hands when he bares his fangs. “The Devil.”

Oh. His voice. It has that same deep cadence, but it sounds smoky, almost rumbling directly from his throat rather than out of his mouth. It sends another wave of heat through your body, the same kind that boiled your bathwater and burned the shape of your hands into your floorboards.

There’s a swelling in your head and in your chest that’s starting to creep down into your stomach. A vibrating in your bones that you feel will split you apart. You groan quietly, clutching your middle.

Eddie unhinges his jaw. All the way, his mouth practically splits his face in half to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth that shouldn’t realistically fit there. His long, forked tongue extends to lick Andy’s burned flesh, roaring at him as Andy shrieks. Eddie pulls Andy close, as though he means to swallow him whole.

But a wet crackling noise rips through the room, and then Andy explodes.

He bursts like a water balloon, splattering blood and bits of flesh all over the walls, all over Eddie, all over you. You stand tensely, open mouthed and with your shoulders pulled to your ears as it rains down from the ceiling, splashing onto your floor. In the silence afterwards, you hear Dante stop growling and start gnawing on a piece of Andy’s flesh that dropped to the floor beside him.

Eddie’s jaw closes and melts back into his normal face, his wings closing and retreating into a tattoo on his back. He blinks, stunned, and then turns his head and looks at you in shock. He raises his eyebrows, his face completely, comically red to match the color of the volcanic flames in his eyes. A piece of torn flesh hangs in his hair.

And that sick feeling you’d been having is suddenly fucking gone.

“Did–” You stop, smacking your lips as metallic blood oozes into your mouth. Your hands are clenched, held up by your face like you’re trying to shield yourself from it. Not that it’s helping. “Did I do that?”

Eddie nods slowly, an incredulous grin spreading across his face. He starts to laugh.

You shake your head, clapping your bloody hands over your mouth. It makes a wet slapping noise. “No– Eddie, don’t fuck with me right now–”

“Sweetheart… You blew him to smithereens!” Eddie cackles, rushing forward to wrap his arms around you. You squeal as he lifts you, jumping up and down with you like you just won first prize. “That was so fucking metal! Holy shit!”

You grab onto him with shaking hands, pressing your face into his neck. His bare skin is warm and slick, his scars bumpy against your cheek. “I thought I was just having a panic attack…”

Your demon, your self-proclaimed boyfriend, giggles like a child on Christmas and twirls you around. “That’s what he gets! That’s what anyone fucking gets for messing with my baby…”

“I was just so angry,” you tell him shakily, clutching to him like a lifeline. “He fucking shot you and he shot Dante and I– I just wanted him gone.”

“Well, he’s gone now.” Eddie snickers, pressing his blood soaked forehead against yours. “He’s gone now, you fucked him up so bad. Attagirl.”

You hold Eddie’s face and kiss him earnestly, fiercely, with everything you have in you. He grunts, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you flush against him, kicking up a squelching wet noise that would throw you off if you were thinking clearly. That same heat that’s been bothering you all day blasts forth, setting you aflame. A beast howls in your chest, snarling and vying for his attention.

“I just wanted to protect you, Eddie,” you tell him between frantic kisses. “You’re mine. No one touches what’s mine.”

He takes a slow breath and releases it with a warm purr deep in his chest. Your hand strokes his cheek and he nuzzles into it, his glowing eyes fluttering shut, and you feel an inordinate amount of pride welling up inside you.

You’re holding a demon in your hands– a real, actual demon– and he’s purring like a kitten over it. He has claws that could kill you with a single swipe, fangs that could tear flesh from bone, power beyond believability, and he’s yours.

Your kisses turn heated and deep. You scratch your nails down his chest toward his belt, pressing yourself further against him. Eddie chuckles against your lips.

“You know, you have a habit of trying to fuck me whenever Andy gets blown up,” Eddie points out, pulling back just slightly with a lopsided grin. “Should do it more often.”

“God, I’ve been so horny for you all day,” you hiccup, already frustrated as your fingers slip across the metal, fumbling and awkward as you try to undo it quickly. “I don’t know what it is, I feel like I’m gonna explode if I don’t have you right now.”

“You want me like this?” Eddie asks. Even though his voice is deep and sultry, there’s a touch of insecurity in it. “I know I’m not much to look at, sweetheart.”

You shake your head. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so gorgeous, Eddie, you don’t even know.” Your voice is coming out breathy, near panting as you lay kisses to his lips and cheeks, tasting Andy’s blood in your mouth.

The heat of your own body matches Eddie’s to the point that his skin– which always feels too hot, almost to the point of burning– feels normal to you. It makes your mind reel, and you don’t have to steel yourself before pressing your body against him, grasping him in your hands. His flesh is damp and sticky, and his hair still drips with blood; none of it makes a difference to you.

He yanks you against him, his claws tearing into the threadbare fabric of your nightshirt. He nearly snickers at it. It’s barely covering you as it is, all your curves and edges on display as the wet cotton clings to your body. With one sharp tug, the shirt rips and falls away from your chest.

You moan when his tongue gently glides along your shoulder and up the side of your throat, collecting the blood on your skin. Your cunt throbs with desire and your own blood boils with a need you haven’t felt before.

“So fucking cute,” Eddie coos in your ear, somewhere between chastising and affectionate. “Just can’t wait for it, can you? Gotta get all impatient with me the night before the full moon?”

“Yes, Eddie.” Your voice sounds pathetic. Whining, practically crying for it when you’ve got him so close, and his tongue on your bare skin is enough to give you a head rush. You think the touch of it ought to melt you to your core.

Well. Something’s melting in your core, anyway. And Eddie’s all too aware of it; he slides two thick fingers between your legs, urging your thighs apart just barely so that he can stroke you where you want it. He hisses through his teeth, his fingers coming back dripping with arousal and blood that isn’t even yours.

“I should make you wait,” he murmurs as he stares down into your eyes.

You can already feel yourself shaking your head, your hands grabbing for him desperately. It’s ridiculous– just the thought of him leaving you like this has you near tears. “No, please–”

“I said I should,” he tells you as he licks his fingers in front of you; a forked tongue flickering over the digits before disappearing again. “Not that I will.”

You heave a relieved sigh, a noise of contentment as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw.

“You’re gonna wish that I did, though.”

“Eddie, what– HOH FUCK!”

You screech as Eddie manhandles you down onto the floor. Puddles of blood squelch beneath your body as you come in contact with the wood, flopping onto your back as he kneels and crawls over you like some kind of predator.

You hum. “You know, we tend to fuck in my kitchen a lot–”

Eddie shushes you. A tattoo of a snake slithering along his forearm leaps out of his skin, forming into a 3D image. Before you can even comprehend it, the snake circles your head and slithers its way into your mouth.

You make a noise of surprise. The snake doesn’t delve too far, just enough to gag you. It tastes like blood and Eddie’s skin. Discreetly smoky and laced with salt.

“Whose fault is that?” Eddie asks, dipping his head to lick a long trail up the center of your stomach, the two appendages of his forked tongue tickling your skin and making you squirm. “Be a good girl and lay still for me.”

You grunt, scowling down at him. Eddie snickers– even with all his skeletons out of the closet and his magic surrounding you, you still behave like such a little brat. He moves slowly, dragging his nose up your torso, and letting his breath billow across your oversensitive skin. His arms cage you in, his knee slotting between your legs until the damp fabric of his jeans just barely brushes the lips of your pussy.

You whimper, bucking your hips instinctively towards that contact. He jerks it away just as quickly; the snake in your mouth, made of his own flesh, inches forward until you just barely gag on the intrusion.

“Sweet little thing,” Eddie purrs as he stalks up your body, his tongue flicking out to lick the blood from your breasts. He groans in the back of his throat, almost as if he’s savoring the taste of it. The fact that it’s also driving you insane, the slippery and hot caress against an erogenous zone, is just a happy byproduct. “You forget that I have all the time in the universe. I can do this until the end of time, if I want.”

You’re dizzy with arousal, oversensitized from every point of contact he’s giving you. You want to tell him that you’d fucking love it if he did keep you here forever, but all you’re able to do is moan around the writhing extension of him in your mouth.

He takes his fucking time licking the blood from your skin, his inordinately long tongue dancing between your breasts and over your stomach, until you swear that he’s going to try to clean you entirely. But he stops just over your pelvis, and his tongue just barely flutters over your clit.

You scream. Your hips jump, back arching at the sudden touch, while your toes are curling and all your muscles are drawn up tight and aching.

“I know, baby,” Eddie murmurs softly. He tuts, his mouth dragging so softly over the skin of your pelvis that it makes your hips jump, and you bite down on the snake in your mouth just as he bites down on the plush of your thigh.

To offset his gentle voice, another snake leaps from his arm and latches around your waist, pinning you to the floor. You whine brokenly, just a sob around the one in your mouth, as you feel two more slithering along your skin and winding around your legs to pull them open.

“You’re intoxicating,” Eddie sighs, just watching as you lay there, pinned down with the extensions of his body that he controls as easily as his own hands. Your hands still scratch along the floor, lifting to grab onto something of his.

Eddie gives you his own hands; he laces his fingers with yours, sticky blood gluing them together.

You squeeze his hands when his tongue glides through the lips of your cunt, sweeping over the soft, hypersensitive flesh. Something about him finally touching you after you’ve been starving for it all day, and the exposing position you’re in, splayed open and unable to move, makes it easy to give up control.

The sounds coming from your throat are sharp and quick, mingling with the noises of Eddie below, of the snakes hissing along your skin. He clamps his lips around your clit and sucks, as the tendrils of smoke and metaphysical matter that make up the snakes on your skin morph and change into hands– many many hands that caress you and grab you everywhere. Your breasts, your arms, your legs. A palm on your chin, forcing your head back so you can’t look, only feel.

With a moan, you rock your hips against Eddie’s face as best you can, given the circumstances. There’s so much happening, you barely even notice when your orgasm hits, and by that time you’re completely unable to stop it. You cry out around two rough fingers, shoved deep into your mouth to replace the snake that had been gagging you, as you squeeze at the two hands pinning your own against the floor.

When the hand in your mouth disappears, you’re panting. Gasping for breath, punctuated with little moans that don’t stop, because Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps lapping up the arousal that drips from your swollen pussy, letting his tongue prod into your entrance like he means to fuck you with it again– knowing how well that went over last time, you don’t doubt that he would try, just to extend the torture.

Just to remind you that he could do this forever.

But he pulls away and sits up, and finally looks down at you, shaking on the floor. A smirk adorns his bloody, glistening face. “You still want more, princess?”

You nod with all the strength you have, reaching for him.

You should have known that, after watching him morph into half a dozen different shapes and sizes, he wouldn’t have to undress himself. It still doesn’t make it any less surprising to you when his pants just fucking melt out of existence, like it’s all just made of smoke.

“Couldn’t have done that when I was fucking with that goddamn belt buckle?” you grumble, finally finding your voice.

His eyebrows jump, a gorgeous grin spreading across his face. So much like the first one he ever gave you, there at the crossroads– brilliant, sharp teeth and dimples and sparkling eyes. Something that you’d kill to see every day for the rest of your life and beyond it.

“You’re… you’re impossible,” he giggles, crawling up your body to plant a wet kiss on your lips, tasting of metallic blood and salt and sweet smoke. Everything that you know and love about him is wrapped into one kiss.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, deepening the kiss until your teeth clash and you suck desperately on his tongue. He hums, dropping his hips to yours. The slick glide of his cock through your folds is so reminiscent of the dream he’d superimposed himself into, but this time it’s real, and it’s so much better. Hotter and wetter than you’d expected, kicking up an enormously loud, slick sound, echoing the slippery blood you roll around in. Your mouth drops open in a gasp, clinging to him as he grinds against you.

“This what you want?” Eddie’s voice wavers, a soft groan in his throat slipping out at the end. He huffs, dropping his forehead to rest against yours. “Fuck, tell me you want it, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

He sounds just as broken as you. Maybe just holding on by a thread, but it’s just so thin. You can’t help the mess that it makes of you, your pussy drenching him the more he rocks against you. The sound of his voice crackling, the low and smoky demonic tone of it giving way to weakness at the feeling of your body against him, is so profoundly erotic.

You try to answer him. You do. But between the slow grind of his cock against your clit and his broad hand wrapping around your throat, all you manage to do is allow yourself to moan into his face.

Eddie tightens his hold on your throat just a touch. He spits, and a drop of his saliva hits your waiting tongue. He growls, “Tell me.”

You sob, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try desperately to rock against him. “Pleasepleaseplease– Eddie, I want it. W-want you so bad all the time, oh my god–”

“No god here, baby,” Eddie tells you heatedly, the smoldering lava pools of his eyes boring into yours. “Just me.”

He splits you open slowly, like after all of this terror and bloodshed, he’s afraid you might break. His cock slides thick through your walls, stretching you until you swear you can’t take any more and melting you from the inside out.

It’s blinding, searing bliss and agony all at once. He glides in so smoothly, because you’re practically fucking drowning him with your want.

He draws out even slower, letting you feel every ridge and vein as it moves through you, making your toes curl, your chest burn. Your clit throbs hard like it’s feeling neglected, but you can’t muster the ability to do anything about it.

You’re a whimpering mess. Watery-eyed and half insane with how much lust is flowing through you. You aren’t even aware that you’re babbling and whining until Eddie tucks his thumb between your lips.

“Shhh.” He guides your head back and forth, shaking it from side to side gently as you stare tearfully up at him. “No whining.”

You pretty much do the exact opposite. You want him to go faster. You want him to go deeper. You want him, you want him.

Eddie thrusts the rest of the way in, like he read your mind. You’re almost sure that he did, or is. He must be. It’s the only explanation for how he’s able to give you everything you want, exactly when you want it. You think you want his hands in your mouth, he gives them to you. You want him to fuck you harder, he does.

The force of your cry makes it ring sharply around the room, magnified by the wetness on the walls and floor. Your back slips through puddles of blood on the hardwood. It’s frankly disgusting, and yet…

“Ohhh you’re such a fucking freak for liking this, baby,” Eddie chides, confirming that yes, he can hear your thoughts. He sees every one of them, like he’s inside your own head, and it makes you burn for him even worse. He grins down at you as he jolts you along the floor with another thrust. “I love it. Y’so fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails biting into hot skin and pulling him down until his chest is flush with yours. “Whose– whose fault is tha– huhh!”

His hips rock backwards and roll into yours so fluidly that it astounds you with its grace. There’s always going to be two sides to him– smooth and rough. Sharp and soft. Juxtaposed and yet complementary.

“You feel so good,” you whimper softly, your voice coming out small and feeble.

“And you feel like heaven,” he whispers hoarsely, his nose nudging against yours. “Closest I’ll ever be to it.”

You arch your head back, exposing your neck to him as you cry out toward the ceiling. There’s nothing in your head except him– he’s managed to take the rest of your world and shrink it down until he takes up the brunt of it.

Eddie chuckles, like he knows. He knows what he’s doing, knows that each stroke of his cock is just stoking the fire that burns under your skin. His cock dragging slow and purposefully through your cunt, hitting that spot deep inside that makes you scream with pleasure. His tongue on your exposed neck, his claws digging into your thighs hard enough to draw blood.

Not that you need any more of it.

“That’s right,” Eddie croons as you moan loudly, dragging his mouth along the curve of your throat, lingering over your shoulder. “Let me hear you, little witch.”

Your body tenses and you tighten down around him, letting out a long amalgamation of noises that you’d been holding back. You’re starting to forget where you end and he begins, like the longer this goes on the more you start to fade into him like a shadow.

Eddie tucks his face into your shoulder and whispers something you don’t quite catch. You’re dizzy and your pussy pulses angrily in warning. Your mounting orgasm feels devastating already, like you’re on the brink of being torn apart.

“Mmm, getting close, isn’t it?” Eddie muses, and he sounds far away, like he’s talking to you from underwater. His voice is soft and sinful, exactly what you think it should be. “I can feel it, baby. Dirty little girl just loves getting fucked by a demon, doesn’t she?”

“Eddie, please–” you cut yourself off with a gasp when his thumb touches your clit, and you convulse once like you’re about to have a fit.

There’s a snicker in his voice, but you don’t miss the soft staccato breaths that he takes when you tighten around him again. “What, y-you wanna hear how– how wet you are? Fuckin’ drenching me, baby, it’s so fucking good–”

You sob, grabbing at him and smacking at his shoulders like that’ll get your point across.

He chuckles again, and his voice is absolutely wretched when he rasps, “If only Andy could see you now, huh?”

His words knock you directly into your orgasm, which was… much closer than you both realized, apparently. You clench down around his cock and your hips jump up, rocking desperately against him like he isn’t giving it to you exactly how you want it, already.

Eddie’s breath catches, going silent for a second before he groans loudly into the crook of your neck. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, holy shit–”

The break in his voice simply kills you, dead. You cum around him hard, while his thumb continues to circle your clit in slow, gentle circles. So much gentler than you imagined he would be. Soft to offset the sharpness of his claws.

Or the sharpness of his teeth, rather, because he gives you one ragged moan into your overheated skin before he’s sinking his fangs into it. The sting is only as intense as the second wave of your orgasm, which sends sparks and shockwaves through you so hard that you swear you actually are burning alive beneath him.

Eddie cums for a long time. He keeps moving through it, slowly pumping into you and drinking your blood like it’s a means to sedate him. By the time he’s finished you’re so spent, it’s like the very life has been drained from you. Your limbs and eyes are heavy, your hands on his body are weak.

In the silence, you hear a crackling. A wave of heat, a cloud of smoke that engulfs you both– like the hellfire that he embodies no longer just belongs to him, but the both of you.

Eddie’s fangs retract from your skin, his tongue leaves you. He says your name softly– a quiet cooing, sing-songy and sweet. You hum, and your head lolls tiredly towards his palm against your cheek.

“Sweetheart,” he says, a little more urgently now. “You gotta get up.”

“Mmmm no. Let’s stay here.”

Eddie huffs, and then deadpans, “Your apartment is on fire.”

Your eyes shoot open. First you meet his eyes– crackling flames dance in them, but not the way that you’re so familiar with. They reflect on the surface of his eyes, rather than coming from within. Half his face is lit in an orange glow, flickering and dancing, making the shadows dance across them more than normal.

Then you feel the heat. It’s more than him, more than you. And then the smoke alarm in your bedroom starts shrieking.

The room is engulfed in flames. The flowers preserved in the vase on your counter wither in the heat and crumple like paper. The walls, the furniture, the floors catch on like you live in a tinderbox. Fire surrounds you so closely that it should burn you.

It should. It doesn’t. You feel the heat, but it doesn’t hurt. It tickles, it warms you like a soft blanket.

“How the hell did that happen?” you splutter, cringing and grabbing at Eddie as you hear a cupboard lose its structural integrity and collapse, along with all the dishes inside of it.

Eddie giggles, his cheshire cat grin splitting his face wide. Dimples on show, hair reflecting a little bit of gold from the fire, he says, “We’re just a lot more powerful than you think.”

You gaze around at your burning apartment. All the mediocre remnants of your life peel from the walls and settle as char on the floor. Dante is once again long gone; you didn’t figure he would stick around.

Turning your head back to Eddie, you blink slowly, feeling lulled by the warmth surrounding you and the weight of his body on yours. You almost don’t even care about the hardness of the floor and how it’ll be murder on your spine in the morning. Eddie peers down at you with an affectionate smile, his thumb stroking your cheekbone lovingly.

“Oh fuck,” you say after a moment. “I’m not gonna get that fucking security deposit back, am I?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #tdik!fic #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie #demon!eddie munson #roses*

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fanfictilltheend · 6 months ago

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❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2: ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine.

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever.

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago.

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats.

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you.

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife.

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other.

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.”

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose.

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk.

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall.

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business.

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door.

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control.

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent.

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this .

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter.

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too.

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here .

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his.

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh.

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.?

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend.

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself.

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm.

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts.

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter.

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max.

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps.

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains.

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position.

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability.

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion / Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing.

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling.

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush.

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

��You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.”

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively.

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter.

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes.

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time).

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly.

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered.

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer.

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away.

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure.

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench.

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel? Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him.

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away.

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly.

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink.

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses.

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel.

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes?

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel.

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you.

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –”

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard.

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest.

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours.

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin.

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers.

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted.

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want.

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes.

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger.

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls.

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty.

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra.

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa.

You happily fall backward.

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly.

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties.

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you.

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you.

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting.

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat.

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.”

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off.

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides.

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–”

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.”

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away.

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

“I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure.

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you.

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone.

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip.

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong.

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker.

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body.

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music.

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity.

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder.

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his.

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever.

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks.

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand.

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek.

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you.

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides.

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

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