#sorry if there are any medical inaccuracies

[j1998v]

@conkorse hello i drew ur medic & scout designs i hope u dont mind!

[kindred-spirit-93]

What is YOUR favorite disaster in history? Mines pompii ^^

OMG THANK U FOR ASKING. THE BLACK DEATH IS MY JAM!!

was thinking about the history (heh) of my hyperfixations, obsessions, and phases a while back (like in school everyone had an egyptology phase, or an archeology and dinosaurs one, all of the above etc) and mine was the bubonic plague lol

back in ye olden days i went to afternoon arabic schools when i was younger (they were typically held in highschools after hours) and the class i was in had a bunch of books on the shelves, one of which was a history book, and while flipping through i was instantly intrigued.

fair warning the pictures can be quite graphic, but to baby me i was never more morbidly (and medically) curious about the how when and why of it all.

i desperately wanted to know everything, but alas i never really got the chance. i never found the book again, was too young to look it up on the interwebs and it never came up in school. and so that was the end of that

till a few years ago i caught a glimpse of a book in my grandfathers office library, somehow very surprised hed have a book on the black death (he was a microbiologist lol) and asked to borrow it.

unfortunately it sat on my shelf and the years passed without so much a glance from me in its direction. just last week i randomly remembered and decided to dig it up. placed it next to my bedside.

the pages are now amber and carry the faint and quaint scent old books so often do. really looking forward to reading it at long last :')

--

my favourites i have on my phone lol (credits to rightful owners!!)

kindred core [│87

[caillousweave]

TF2 BAND AU!!!!

Sorta, the band part is more of an extra side thing, it's more of a modern au but they also happen to be in a band.

Me and my tiktok mutual have been working on this au and I've decided to share some of our ideas for it :D I wanna eventually draw something for this au!!

I'm gonna go by character, though keep in mind we are very biased so some characters have a LOT more then others (still this is gonna be a longg post)

But first some general things: their band is called "Team Fortress 2" bc that's the game no way!! They chose to make it 2 bc they thought it was cooler then just Team Fortress. They all go by their canon names (except Spy and Pyro) but I'm gonna continue to refer to them as their classes, even tho they aren't mercenaries in this au and don't have classes but shh ok

Scout

Plays the guitar (can also play drums but insists on being the lead guitarist)

Barely goes to practice, only started going more because Soldier forced him to (they live together)

Practices for performances the day of/a few minutes before performing (or to try impress someone)

Lives in an apartment

Can read, but it takes him really long and he has to sound out ever word (people think he's leaving them on read when really he's just trying to read their message)

Has a motorcycle

Works as a delivery boy for Heavy's family restaurant (more on that later) except the food always arrives cold bc it takes him so long to read the address

Doesn't question the food that "randomly" appears in his fridge, or the raccoon in his apartment (again more on those 2 later)

Has a collection of weirdly shaped guitars (he brings a different one to every practice/performance and it's chaos bc they all sound different)

Streams games on twitch sometimes

He's still scared of Pyro (still)

His room/apartment is a mess, like dirty clothes on the floor kind of messy

Soldier

Plays the trumpet (and most wind instruments, but in the band he plays trumpet. Does it match the rest of the band? No, but he insists on playing trumpet)

Soldier forces Scout to go to practice, like he will physically pick him up ("WE HAVE PRACTICE MAGGOT AND BY GOD WE ARE GOING TO GET THERE ON TIME. NO ONE WAITS FOR YOU IN WAR AND I CERTAINLY WILL NOT WAIT FOR YOU" - Soldier probably)

Changes jobs a lot not because he gets fired but because he just feels like it

Insists he's homeless but he sleeps at Scout's apartment and basically lives there, just sleeps on the couch though he doesn't have a room (Scout offered his spare room but he declined saying he was homeless and not staying there long. He still hasn't left 2 years later)

Brought a stray raccoon he named Lieutenant Bites to Scout's apartment

(Along with Scout) begged Medic to learn how to care for raccoons for Lieutenant Bites

Thinks the food that appears in Scout's fridge is some spirit bringing food for them (he doesn't care, he still eats it)

Pyro

Plays drums

Unemployed, sometimes helps Engie at his workshop

Wears the same thing they do in game, everyone else has a sorta simplified/weapon-free version of their outfit (or the same, depending on the character) but they wear the same thing as in game, gas mask and all

Lives with Engie, their room is super colorful and childish

Has a big cabinet in their room full of lighters (they collect lighters)

Like to paint/draw on the walls of their room, invite people to draw with them but everyone is too scared to enter their room so the only one who really does it is Engie, who isn't scared of them

No one knows where Pyro came from, they showed up to practice one day and killed it on the drums so everyone just accepted them into the band, and then Pyro followed Engie home and just stayed there

No one knows Pyro's name, but they answer to Pyro so everyone just calls them that

Most of the other members can't understand what they say, Engie can

Goes to Medic anytime their stuffed animals are damaged and begs for them to be healed

Makes friendship bracelets for the band but no one wears them at first (they eventually do, after being threatened by Pyro)

Heavy

Main vocals (has the voice of an angel)

Brought his family to New Mexico (from Russia ofc) and his family opened a sandwich restaurant

Their restaurant also doubles as their house so his room is just above the restaurant, his room is pretty clean

Works at the restaurant

Sasha exists we are currently discussing on whether she will stay the same or become like a trombone

Is also scared of Pyro

Demoman

Plays the keytar (and a bagpipe bc he's Scottish but in the band he plays keytar)

Lives in his mansion, it's fairly clean, but his room is messy

Lives with his mom

Works several jobs

Basically just him in the comics tbh didn't change him much

He has a horse though, sometimes he brings it places instead of his car, no one knew he had a horse till they all went outside and saw a horse in a parking spot

Wears Pyro's bracelet before they threaten everyone

Engineer

Tech support for the band

But has his own solo career making country music

Other then that he owns a workshop and takes commissions making things (engineer is one of the only classes that can actually be translated into an actual job)

Loves his daughter-son-child-thing Pyro (he adopted them despite them being a grown adult)

His home is small but he keeps it (mostly) clean, unlike his workshop, which is a mess

Also wears Pyro's bracelet before they threaten everyone

Spy

Plays piano

No one knows like anything about him, he prefers not to interact with the other members much

Married to Scout's mom

Scout's dad

No one knows his real name (except Scout's mom)

Still has his watch and can go invisible

Every week he does Scout's groceries (while invisible) bc he hates him but he does still care about his son (does it invisible so Scout doesn't know it was him)

Medic

Backstage help/helps setting up

Makes German accordion covers of songs

Always has like 5 doves following him around (Disney Princess fr)

Experiments on roadkill (his house smells awful)

Lives in a small house by himself with all his birds

Has a shed for his birds (mostly for the winter when it's cold, other then that they just roam around his garden freely

Crashes weddings to save doves

As well as being a human doctor he also knows how to care for birds (yes he is a doctor)

Doesn't like big lights so his house is lit with candles and lamps, it's very dark

His neighbors hate him (the cops are constantly being called to his house)

Likes to go to abandoned hospitals and research facilities to steal chemicals and stuff

Learned to sew so he can patch up Pyro's stuffed animals

No one wants to go in his house bc they think it's scary (except Pyro they don't care)

Sniper

Plays bass (also does background vocals)

Lives in his camper van, it's fairly messy

Sells "drugs" (doesn't actually, they're just vitamin gummies he says are drugs)

Scavenges for things (definitely dumpster dives)

Hunts for his food

Whenever he has bad luck with hunting he eats leftovers from a chuck e cheese (stole this from a 4chan thread I saw on tiktok)

And that's all for now, let me know if you have any questions or wanna add anything :33

[pencil-n-pen]

TONGUES AND TEETH

₊˚ʚ 🌲₊˚✧ ﾟ. °🍂 ೃ࿔*

jackson! joel miller x fem! loner! reader

masterlist | ko-fi

summary: Joel refuses to acknowledge the part of him that aches to be a protector. That is, until you come crashing into his life.

cw: canon-typical violence, reader had a rough go of things before Joel, nightmares, medical inaccuracies (oh the horror!) uhhh reader has a broken nose and it gets set, unspecified age gap, daddy issues but we all saw that coming and it’s vague, as an ellie lover and defender until the day i die, it pains me to say no ellie-au IM SORRY I COULDN’T MAKE IT WORK bella ramsey as ellie they could never make me hate you

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort as always, age gap, nightmare comfort, honestly just two messed up people loving each other

a/n: proof that i will find a way to write an eldest daughter fic for any fandom/universe

not officially writing for him !! just had this idea

another long(ish) fic. if you're here from my masterlist, now would be a good time to go pee, get some water, and maybe a snack or two :) same things for those of you scrolling. i see u

title taken from tongues and teeth by the crane wives (GO LISTEN TO THE CRANE WIVES !!)

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚🦴⋆｡°✩

Jackson living isn’t all Joel thought it would be cracked up to be.

Don’t get him wrong- objectively, it’s great. Running water, electricity, a clinic- three hallmarks Joel was sure he’d never see again. Not since the outbreak.

So by all means, he should be content. He goes out for hunting parties and patrols. Has his own house. Has a permanent place to keep his boots and his knives and guns and a bookshelf to make his way through. He has a bed. He has his brother.

But he’s restless.

Joel spent a long time walking. Searching. Surviving. You don’t quite slip back into easy civilian life just like that, no matter how perfect the conditions are.

At first, he solves this problem but going on more hunting parties, more patrols. He stays up late doing guard rotations and helps out his brother with projects when he can.

It doesn’t solve the itch, though. That sharp little thrumming, just beneath his skin: the need to protect. To have a job. To have something or someone to look after.

He denies this part of himself as much as he can, because he’s not that man anymore. Not after Sarah. He’s not. You don’t stay somebody dying to help and protect when you kill people. Because they’re still people, under the fungus. Under the parasite. Their brain’s still work. They still feel pain and anguish and fear.

He’s heard them cry before. Hunched over a corpse, body acting with somebody else at the reins, faces covered in blood and gore crying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

So Joel isn’t a protective guy anymore. Had to take out those parts. Replace them with solitary and meanness and a distinct lack of sympathy.

It’s turned him into an angry thing. Like a gaurd dog; snarling, circling an empty pedestal it refuses to acknowledge is there.

He knows Tommy see’s it. Try’s to involve him in things whenever he can, invites him over to dinner. Hangs out at his house. Makes sure Joel isn’t alone-alone.

So Joel really, really should’ve seen it coming when he and the scouting party find you in the woods.

You’re just as surprised to see them as they are to see you. They thought they were tracking a deer— although some of the tracks and patterns of disturbance in the underbrush didn’t add up.

They’d entered a clearing, guns poised, just to see you, handgun leveled at them, perched in a tree. Way higher up than Joel would’ve dared.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” You’d hissed, voice carrying on the wind and rattling just like the leaves on the tree you’re in. How you managed to scale a tree that high in a busted pair of Doc Martens and lugging a backpack clearly full of supplies is beyond him.

But he doesn’t need medical credentials to know you’ve clearly had a rough go of things.

You’re young. Not young-young, but young. Dressed in clothes clearly pilfered, you’re wearing a thick brown jacket that probably would’ve belonged to a construction worker or something like that. It’s a few sizes too big, and the cuffs are frayed and there’s a hastily sewn patch on the elbow he can see. Your face and hair is littered with tree and other plant debris- though if this is a new addition from your tree climbing escapade, he’s not sure. Your nose has dried blood crusted under it, your lip is split, and there’s a cut above your eyebrow. Your knuckles and hands are equally torn and split, old and new scars and scrapes littering your skin.

In short: you look rough. And feral, in that way that cats that live outside a little too long and a little too far away from people end up looking.

“I said stay back!”

He remembers, abruptly, that you’re probably scared out of your mind and the rest of the scouting team is still pointing their weapons at you.

He makes the motion for them to lower their weapons, and he lowers his own, raising both hands in the universal “we come in peace” gesture.

You don’t lower yours, but your grip on it is looser.

“We’re from the Jackson settlement,” He shouts, hoping you don’t hear the gruff anger in his voice that Tommy always complains he needs to work on. “There’s running water and electricity.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Your hands have begun to shake on the gun, ever so slightly. “So what’s your guys prerogative, huh? Cannablism? Religion? You planning on burning me at the stake? Or did you have something else in mind? I am a woman.”

Joel takes a step forward but stops when a bullet hits the ground right where his foot was about to be.

“If you take one more step you’re gonna find out exactly why I’ve survived alone this long.”

“Look,” He says, dropping his hands to his hips. “You can shoot us, and one of us will shoot you, and it’ll all be fine and dandy—“

There’s a chorus of whispers behind him.

“Or you can stay in that tree and not shoot us, and we won’t shoot you, and that’ll also be fine and dandy.”

He turns, jamming a finger in the direction of the settlement. “Jackson’s that way. Go or don’t go. I don’t really give a shit, but you look like you could use a bandaid.”

He jerks his head, and the rest of the party follows his lead, leaving the clearing —and you— behind.

—

A few hours after he returns, somewhere in the late evening when twilight is starting to set in and the crickets are chirping, Tommy knocks on his door.

“There’s a girl here for you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Someone asked for me?”

“Well, not so much as for you. Her words exactly were “that gruff, mean looking asshole,” but I got the picture.”

He sighs, deep in his bones. A small part of him —the part that’s still connected to that dog, still circling— had hoped you would show up. However, it’s hopelessly overshadowed by the sheer exasperation of it all.

He’s silent save for non-committal grunts and hmm’s the way over to the front gates where the evening rotation’s guards have you standing between them.

You’re slightly worse for wear since the last time he saw you in that tree. Your jacket as a new rip in it, and your nose is sluggishly bleeding again. Up close, he notices it’s a bit crooked.

Gonna hurt like a bitch to set, He thinks absentmindedly.

He slows as he approaches you, hands in his pockets and shoulders back.

“See?” He huffs, gesturing with one hand behind him. “Not cannibals. Or whatever else you’re worried about.”

Your face is hard set as you look around. “That remains to be seen.”

“Hello!”

Joel looks back to see a pregnant Maria waddling over, a concerned Tommy at her side.

“I told you I’d handle it—“

“And I told you I’m fine. Now,” She props her hands on her hips. “Who’s this young lady now?”

You (hesitantly) stick out a hand to shake and introduce yourself.

She shakes your hand with a smile. Leave it to Maria to be able to read people with such ease. “I’m Maria Miller. I’m one of the settlement councilors. The golden retriever fussing next to me is my husband, Tommy, and the angry looking bear next to him is his brother, Joel. I understand a scouting party found you?”

You nod, eyes flicking this way and that, cataloguing the area.

“I’ve been on my own for… awhile. I don’t have any supplies to offer, but I’m smart and strong. I’m willing to work in exchange for a place to stay.”

Maria hums, assessing. “I’m sure we can work something out. You’ll need to come with me to speak to the rest of the council, for our safety and yours.”

You tighten your grip on your backpack but follow Maria and Tommy, only sparing one backward glance at Joel.

He spends the rest of the evening trying to forget the look in your eyes.

—

He fails spectacularly.

This doesn’t mean, however, that he’s anywhere near pleased when his nightly reading-as-a-poor-attempt-at-normalcy routine is interrupted by a knock on the door. One that sounds suspiciously like Tommy’s type of knock.

Only he hears two voices as he walks up to the door, and the other one isn’t Maria.

Joel opens the door with a glare already fixed on his face.

“There have to be other places.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “It’s only temporary. The council agreed to let her stay so long as she’s watched by a trusted Jackson member, and well. You vouched for her.”

“And when exactly did I do that?”

“In the woods, when you met. You told her where you were from and how to get there. Honestly, Joel, you’re getting off light here. Some of the council members were not happy you told a random loner —no offense— where to find us. Kind of defeats the whole point.”

You huff a quiet “None taken.”

He can’t help the way his body tenses. “So this is a punishment?”

“Yes and no.”

“I don’t—“

“Look,” you interject, clearly fed up with the conversation. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m not going to murder you in your sleep and I don’t leave dirty clothes lying around. It’s only for three weeks. Get over it.”

Another sigh threatens to release itself, but he stamps it down, figuring he’s hit his sigh quota for the day.

“Fine. But take her down to medical first. I don’t want her blood all over my house.”

Tommy shrugs. “No-can-do. Maria needs me back at the house. You know where medical is. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

And with that, Tommy leaves, abandoning Joel and you at the doorstep.

Joel scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait there. I’ll grab a jacket.”

The walk to the clinic is awkward and silent, and just when Joel thinks it can’t get any worse, one of the staff tells him that since he’s your assigned supervisor/watcher/whatever, he has to accompany you. To everything.

To your credit, you don’t look very happy about the arrangement either.

Still, you bear through all the exams, a grimace fixed firmly on your face. Apparently (and not surprisingly) you’re malnourished, dehydrated, running a small fever, deficient in several vitamins, have two cracked ribs (most likely, no x-ray machine) and some run of the mill scraps and bruises.

You’re cagey enough on the details of the cracked ribs and nose that the doctor eventually moves on to the fixing you stage of things.

It takes awhile. There are a lot of injuries to cover.

When it comes to resetting your nose, the second the woman pulls out a needle and syringe, you go rigid.

“No.”

The doctor blinks. “This is just lidocaine, it’ll numb the area so—“

“No.”

“You wanna feel all that?” Joel asks, the first time he’s spoken during your entire exam, “It ain’t gonna feel great. Crooked nose like that won’t set with one go.”

“No needles. No numbing.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What, you got a pain thing or something?”

Your hands go white-knuckled on the exam table. “Fuck. Off.”

You’re shaking, he notes.

Ah, He says to himself. Not a pain thing.

Fear.

The doctor shrugs. “Not like I won’t take the chance to save what we have. You’ll want something to bite down on. Or squeeze.”

You wrap your fingers around your own hand, a pathetic attempt at self-soothing.

He decides annoyance is the emotion he feels at your small movement. Nothing else.

He rolls his eyes as he grabs your hand, maneuvering it in place of your own.

“Good luck breaking it.”

You don’t respond. He wasn’t really expecting you to.

He knows without looking the exact moment the doctor starts resetting things because your grip on his hand quickly turns from barely there to crushing. You make no sound.

The doctor, to her credit, works fairly quickly, though by the time she’s finished a single tear has carved a path through the blood and grime on your face.

He thinks about how someone learns to cry without sound.

The doctor moves on quickly, cleaning and bandaging the wounds that need it and telling you detailed instructions for how to take care of your nose and cracked ribs and what things you should be eating to avoid staying vitamin deficient. It’s all a lot of words Joel is glad he doesn’t have to memorize.

They stick in his head anyway.

You don’t let go of his hand. You’re no longer squeezing the life out of it, but you’re not holding its gently either. When you do finally let go (after the doctor’s left and you can leave) you practically tear your hand away, as if burned. Like you’d left your hand on a stove as it was heating up only you just now noticed it was hot.

He doesn't say anything about it. He figures you're liable to literally bite his head off, or some other violent action close to that.

Besides. This is all awkward enough.

The walk back to the house is just as silent and strained as the walk to the clinic. Only now your breath is just a little more labored. Steps a little shakier. Your hand's twitch at your sides like they're reaching for something, and you don't quite manage to hide the way you look around every now and then, a restless, nervous action.

He knows what you're doing. He was you, back when he first got to Jackson. Granted, he wasn't as twitchy as you are. He kept his distance, stayed mean and scary (as possible.)

He holds the door open for you when you arrive back to the house, because his mom raised him to be a gentleman no matter the circumstances.

You toss him a look of confusion and annoyance but step into the house, looking around the modest living room with something almost like wonder.

He toes off his shoes, sets them by the door, and takes off his jacket, hanging it on the hook. "Shower before you touch anything. You're filthy. And don't think I'm giving up my bed."

"I wouldn't have taken it even if you had," You sneer. "Where's the--"

"Down the hall on the left. You got clean clothes?"

"...I have less dirty ones."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Wait here."

He grumbles all the way upstairs, all the way through picking out clothes that'll fit you well enough until you either wash what you have or find something else.

He silently glowers as he comes down the stairs, thrusting the clothes out to you and turning on his heel when you take them.

"I'm going to bed. Don't wake me up."

When he lies in bed that night, he can't even pretend he's not thinking about you. In his defense, it's less about you and more about the new, strange, stand-offish person he's just supposed to live with for the foreseeable future. All because he had the bad luck of feeling bad for the battered, flighty, loner girl sitting in a tree.

He stares at his ceiling, internal clock (yes, he's old, he has an internal clock. Sue him) letting him know it is decidedly an hour he should be asleep. He refuses to go downstairs, on principle alone. He could get up and go find one of his books, but he knows that if you're anything like him, coming off of however long you spent alone, you're a light sleeper. You're probably awake now, listening to him toss and turn and being unnerved by the unusual silence of Jackson and the particular brand of night-noise it produces. That's what the first two weeks of Joel's life in Jackson consisted of, before he moved in here.

Maria had decided that Joel would stay with the two of them until he integrated in Jackson society. Perks of your brother marrying a council member, he guesses.

So he's not going downstairs. Not going to walk down there just to see a person, an entire person in his house looking like, looking like--

Fuck.

He throws his blankets off and angrily (but not loudly) marches downstairs to get himself a glass of water and the book he knows he left on the table by the couch when he was so rudely interrupted by you. This is his house, dammit, he refuses to be put out by a random girl.

Woman, his brain corrects.

The living room is completely dark when he makes his way down the stairs and he truly, honestly wishes he was surprised when there's a whoosh of air to his right and a knife embeds itself in the wall about a half inch away from the side of his face.

The living room is still and silent.

"I thought they took your weapons when you got here."

"I lied about what I had."

He scrubs a hand down his face, yanks the knife out of the wall, and tosses it back. If you can throw it, you can dodge it.

He doesn't hear any screams, yelps, or grunts of pain, so he assumes you caught it fine. Or at least dodged it.

He makes his way over to the kitchen, grabs the teapot, and takes down two mugs.

"You know they can kick you out for harboring weapons during your probationary stay."

He hears a rustle of blankets behind him. The sound of you stashing your knife, no doubt.

"Are you going to tell them?"

He snorts, filling up the teapot. "No. There's been a knife in my boot since the day I got here."

He hears more rustling, and decides against turning around. He's not quite sure what you've been doing down here all night since it's clear that you weren't sleeping.

He doesn't hear any footsteps, but when does turn around to set the mugs on the table, you're sitting at it, knees pulled up and head resting atop them, your cheek smushed. Now that his eye's have adjusted to the darkness of the living room, he can almost make out your features. They're easier to discern, now that you're not covered in blood and grime. You look... softer. Haloed in the glow of moonlight shining through the gaps in the curtains.

Your face isn't the only thing glowing. The tell-tale glint of a knife --a different, smaller knife than the one you'd thrown at him-- shines from it's spot, resting oh-so innocently on the table.

Joel just huffs.

"No weapons on the table."

He blinks, and it's gone.

He doesn't ask why you're still awake or what you've been doing instead of sleeping. You don't ask why he's down in the kitchen at all.

"What are you making?"

"Tea."

He gently places a teabag in each mug. He isn't really sure why he's doing this for you. You've done nothing but hiss and spit since he's met you.

But tonight, right now, blanketed in the not-quite calm of the night and the apparent unease you both drown in--

It's tolerable. You're tolerable.

So he takes the kettle off the stove and pours the water and places the steaming mug on the table in front of you.

To which you ignore, and snatch the mug out of his hands instead.

"Did you think I put that one," He points to the mug in front of you, "There for giggles?"

You cradle the mug in your hands, seemingly entranced with the warmth and steam. "You might've poisoned mine."

"Maybe I poisoned both."

You take a sip, then grimace when the too-hot liquid hits your tongue.

"You don't look like the kind of person to have built an immunity to poison."

"You also watched me make both beverages."

"So? It's dark. You could've slipped something in. Or maybe it was already in the teabags."

"What use would I even have for you dead?"

You shrug. "I don't know. You tell me."

“You’re a deeply mistrusting person.”

“And you’re not?”

Touché.

Joel remains in the kitchen, leaned against a cabinet sipping your tea, while you stay hunched at the table, sipping yours.

If he removes the irritability and the uncomfortable-ness of everything that involves you living with him, the moment is almost… companionable. Pleasant, even.

It… soothes that nervous part of him. Not the sad nervous. The angry nervous. That built up crack of anger.

There’s another person in his home that is neither attempting to perceive his problems nor actively attempting to kill him. Your belief that he might poison you aside, you still accepted the tea.

He firmly believes that Tommy isn’t right about the loneliness thing though. His brother being right is just a world Joel can’t live in.

Besides. It’s too early to tell anything anyway.

—

Unfortunately, the following few days do not go… terribly.

That isn’t to say they go well, though. Since he’s looking after you (read: making sure you’re not an axe-murderer or something) he’s not allowed to go out on scouting or hunting trips. Or solo guard rotations he’s come to covet.

It’s boring, and having you around is strange.

It’s interesting, when he gets bored enough, because if he focuses hard enough he can guess what events happened to you based on your reactions to certain things. He’s pretty sure you were drugged at some point based on your reaction to the doctor with the lidocaine. You’re general skittish and flighty nature can be easily attributed to the conditions in which everyone in the world is living in, but your particular brand of distrust and aggression says that humans, not the infected, have been the ones to hurt you the most. Your general unease in open areas or areas with not easily accessible exits leads him to believe that there have been several extremely close calls in several points of your survival.

He knows you’ve been shot before, but that one was an accident. He’d come downstairs, rubbing bleary sleep from his eyes and accidentally stumbled across you changing. Well, finishing changing. He’d quickly closed his eyes and turned around, and thankfully you hadn’t startled, but he had caught a glimpse of the stretch of skin not covered by the long sleeve undershirt you favored. On the left side, just above your hip and a few inches towards your bellybutton, there’s a jagged, raised, circular scar. Still pink.

He knows you have a very slight, very subtle limp. He’s not sure what causes it, but he knows you have one. It tends to act up when you do a lot of strenuous exercise for an extended period of time. Some days you wake up and it’s worse. On those days, you’re a little more mean, and a little more skittish.

He’s yet to see you actually, legitimately sleep.

He’s starting to think you haven’t, since arriving.

Which is insane, because it’s been four days.

The bags under your eyes are horrific, even to him. You’ve gotten clumsier and clumsier, your attention span and memory are terrible, and he thinks you might’ve started hallucinating, if the times he’s seen you staring off into space with concerned, fearful, or twisted expressions on your face and mumbled rambles he can’t make out are anything to go by.

On day five, when Joel comes downstairs in the morning and the knife you throw at him bounces harmlessly off the wall and clatters to the ground and you just stare at it, eyes foggy and unseeing, he decides to talk to Maria.

“I don’t really care,” He says, because he has a reputation to uphold dammit, “But I’m not sure how much longer she’s gonna last, and what she’s gonna do when she wakes up.”

“Mmm,” Maria hums, hands clasped on the table and staring at Joel with her best ‘I don’t believe you don’t care’ look. She’s really perfected it, “Well the truth is, she can’t go forever. It’s fear keeping her up now. Happens a lot with the loners that come in. Especially the women. She’s afraid that no one’s there to watch her back and terrified she won’t be strong enough to fend off any attackers.”

Maria looks at her hands. “The fear is exacerbated by the fact that the council took most of her weapons.”

“You knew—“

“She was lying? Of course I did. So did several of the other members, I’m sure. But she’s not a threat. She’s scared.”

He thumbs the thin scar on his cheek from the knife came just a little too close to hitting the mark when he sneezed in the kitchen. “She’s got a funny way of being scared.”

“Fight or flight, Joel. She knows flight isn’t an option.”

“Why are you lobbying so hard in her defense?”

“I’m not. I’m explaining her actions. Also,” She gives a knowing smile, “You’ve started to care. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming to me about this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He grouses. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait for her to pass out?”

“You could. It’ll happen eventually. She very clearly doesn’t have that many hours left in her. That’s probably freaking her out more. Or, you could subtly show her that she can sleep around you. She needs to know that she’s safe from whatever it is she’s running from.”

Joel keeps his eyes locked on the kitchen table, tracing the grain in the wood with an absent-minded finger.

“I know you pushed for her to stay with me.”

“The council wanted a punishment that fit the crime.”

“Look, I appreciate the thought—“

Maria’s expression flattens. “Joel. Do not sit at my table and lie about how you don’t need anyone and you’re fine on your own. You need this.“

“I don’t need this,” He scoffs, “She’s practically half-feral. No one needs that.”

Maria stands, shrugging. “Then I guess you’ll have to file for a name change, No-One Miller. Until then, make sure she’s not alone when she wakes up.”

—

He did leave you alone for the duration of his conversation with Maria, because fuck if he was bringing you to that, and he figured you both could use some time away from each other. He knows he can.

He’s not very surprised to hear the familar whoosh of a small, sharp object sailing through the air that tends to accompany his arrival into rooms you’re occupying (he’s pretty sure it stopped being a fear response after the first two times and now you’re just messing with him) but he is suprised to see that this time, the knife doesn’t even make it head height. Or to the wall.

It clatters uselessly to the ground near his feet. He stares at the metal between his boots and then up at you—

“Why are you sitting on the kitchen counter?”

“I don’t remember.”

He leaves the knife on the ground and makes his way over to you, watching with mock disinterest at the several-seconds-delayed flinch you make when he stands in front of you.

You look up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused and you just look so, so tired.

There’s a curl of protectiveness in his chest that keeps trying to spread, keeps trying to grow. Here, in the kitchen, your legs dangling over the edge of the counter, bathed in the glow of the mid-day sun, it takes root. Right in the center.

He looks down at your feet. “What happened to your other shoe?”

You scrunch up your face. “I don’t… I was getting in bed, I think. But it wasn’t my bed. I forgot that things aren’t—“

That things aren’t the same anymore.

He crouches down, untying the laces of your boot and shucking it aside somewhere.

“Alright, come on.”

You slide off the counter, clumsy and uncoordinated. He takes your hand in his, leads you up to the bedroom.

The stairs are difficult for your tired, barely working brain. He has to stop multiple times to physically lift your legs or stop you from falling over and cracking your head open.

You finally make it up there, though, and he realizes that you probably won’t want to sleep in your everyday clothes.

“One last step.”

He can’t help but notice how intimate the moment is. Not intimate-intimate, but. He instructs you softly to lift your arms so he can tug your shirt over your head and replaces it with a soft shirt of his own.

Staring into your eyes is too charged and allowing his eyes to wander is bad for obvious reasons, so he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the junction of where your neck meets your shoulder.

He keeps his eyes there as he helps you out of your pants and into a pair of flannel pajama pants. The same ones he’d given you the first night you came. You’ve never slept and he’s never seen you go to any of the places he knows have extra clothes, so he’s almost positive you don’t have any pajamas at all.

His fingers work quickly to tie the drawstring on the pants, and even then, they hang low on your hips.

He doesn’t let his eyes linger.

“Come on,” He says taking your arm and tugging you toward the bed. “Time for sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” You mumble, standing in place. “And I can’t, what if they—“

“I’ll be here the whole time. I’ll keep watch.”

You mull his words over in your head for a few moments before stumbling the final few steps into the bed. You practically collapse into it, shuffling for a just few seconds before your breath evens out.

You’re asleep.

He reaches over, adjusting the blankets a bit, before grabbing the book he’d left on the bedside table and settling down in the chair by the bed.

The hours tick by quietly, accompanied only by the quiet rustling of pages turning and your soft snores.

For the first time in awhile, he doesn’t feel restless.

—

You sleep for a full eighteen hours straight before you stir.

He’s a good portion of the way through his book before he see’s your body tense in the corner of his eye. Your breathes are still even and deep, so if he couldn’t see you, he probably wouldn’t notice you’re awake.

“You’ve been asleep for eighteen hours,” He says, voice rough and scratchy with disuse, “You got in bed voluntarily.”

“You changed my clothes.”

“You didn’t seem all that capable of doing so yourself and I didn’t think you wanted to sleep in jeans. You mind?”

“…No.”

“Good. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t just—“

“You didn’t sleep for five days. If we’re going by the eight hours a night average needed or whatever, that’s forty hours. You’ve still got twenty-two left to catch up on.”

You roll over to face him with a grumble. “I don’t like how good you are at mental math.”

“Get better, then.”

You shimmy out from under the blankets, tossing him an “I have to pee,” as you make your way out of the room.

It’s early morning now, weak sunlight behind to strain its way through the curtains. He figures it’s a good enough time to make some food (and coffee) if you’re going to be going to back sleep, so he meanders down to the kitchen and throws together a small breakfast.

“Did you make us breakfast?”

He never really gets used to how quietly you move through rooms.

“Jesus— yes. Here.”

He hands you a bowl with oatmeal and a small plate with a slice of toast— toasted in a pan, because electricity aside, he doesn’t own a toaster. Why waste time scavenging for an appliance when something else works just as fine?

He sets a jar of jam on the counter that he’d picked up awhile ago in exchange for fixing the hinge on somebody’s door.

“You got any allergies?”

“None that matter.”

He nods to the table. “Go eat. Then get back in bed.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“And you’re annoying. Eat.”

You eat quickly and quietly, then wordlessly follow him back upstairs, climbing back into bed.

“Joel?” You whisper.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He tucks the blanket up over your shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

You obey easily.

—

Things between the two of you… soften after that. He slowly sees more pieces of your personality than the wild thing he met that day in the woods.

He learns that you love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but miss peanut butter and nutella sandwiches more than anything. He learns that on good days, you like drinking coffee straight black, but on bad days, you like it with milk and sugar.

He learns that your limp is the result of one careless mistake you’d made when you first surviving on your own.

“I thought the house was abandoned. It wasn’t,” You’d rolled up your pant leg to show horrific, deep, jagged scars circling your ankle, “Guy had set out a bear trap to slow down some of the clickers in the area. It was dark. Didn’t notice it until too late.”

He learns that you, despite your snide remarks and sarcastic comments, like having him around. He feels a bit like earning the trust of a stray cat.

You begin to grow more comfortable with life in Jackson, though not by much. He’s sure you weren’t a people person before the outbreak, much less so now that he knows some of the horrors you’ve been through before you got here.

He’s even started getting used to how quietly you move.

It’s easy to fall into a rhythm, from there.

He wakes up, goes downstairs. Sometime’s there’s a knife thrown at him, sometimes there isn’t. You’re usually sprawled on the couch, drool coming out of your mouth and grumbling incoherently about “old men and their stupid early mornings.”

It’s almost endearing.

Since Joel spends a lot of time helping Maria and Tommy get ready for their baby, you, in turn, get to know the both of them by being stuck with Joel. Maria set you on edge at first, Tommy slightly less so, but through continuous interactions your prickly nature smoothed.

One night, you were all seated on their couch after enjoying a dinner together —not the first and definitely not the last— having quiet conversation. You’re totally passed out on Joel’s shoulder, dead-asleep and quite content to use him as a human teddy bear.

Maria smiles over her mug of tea. “She’s grown on you.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. She’s not all bad.”

“High praise coming from Joel Miller.”

You have grown on him. And in turn, your relationship has started to grow into… something else. Sometimes his eyes linger just a little too long, and the looks you share feel just a little too charged.

Tommy sends him a look full of words only true siblings can understand.

“No, Tommy.”

“Oh come on Joel! You both clearly—“

“We are not having this conversation right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because—“

You fling an arm out wildly, smacking him in the side of his face and grasping around until your pointer finger finally finds his lips.

“Shhhh. M’ sleeping.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, prying your fingers off his face. “You know that’s what bed’s are for. Or couches. Or any number of surfaces I’ve found you sleeping on.”

“You’re a surface I’m sleeping on.”

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a bed. Come on, up and at em’.”

You whine at the loss of warmth when he stands, scowling as you haul yourself to your feet. As he’s putting on his boots by the door, he hears you thanking Maria and Tommy for their hospitality, and he can’t help the little smile that twitches on his face. Seems like his parents weren’t the only ones who made sure he had manners.

You meet him at the door, hopping in place to put your boots on and getting frustrated when they don’t slide on immediately.

“You know, it would help if you untied the laces—“

“Fuck off.”

He blinks. That seems a little more mean than you usually say nowadays.

So Joel takes a step back. Watch’s your legs and your shoes and your hands—

There.

Your hands shake as you fumble with the laces, unable to get a good grip on the thin cords to untie and re-tie your shoes.

He shoos your hands away from the singular boot you haven’t managed to get on.

“Sit.”

He’s thankful that he built the shoe bench for Maria a few weeks after he got to Jackson. It serves Maria well for not having to stand while she attempts to put her shoes on while heavily pregnant, a feat she bemoaned a few times, and now it’s serving you.

You plop down on the bench with a huff, crossing your arms as Joel crouches, undoing the laces of your boot and sliding it on.

“I can do it.”

“I know you can.”

“Why’re you doing it?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He secures the tie on one boot and moves on to the next. “It is tonight.”

Once both shoes are on, you both bid Tommy and Maria good night, and make your way home.

If your hand find’s Joel’s, then that’s not anyone’s business.

—

He notices things after that.

You’ve started snapping at him more often. You’re not sleeping as much. You’ve started flat out refusing to go with him on daily chores as tasks, which either leads to an argument or the both of you staying at home all day.

It all comes to a head when you wake up screaming.

He thunders down the stairs, ducking on instinct for a knife that doesn’t come. You’re not on the couch. He whips his head around, the screaming stopped he can’t find you—

A thud. A panicked gasp.

He moves on slow, apprehensive feet towards the kitchen, crouching down to see you huddled under the table, knife clenched in your hand and pointed toward him.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

Your eyes are wide and shining with tears.

“You died.”

“I didn’t. I’m right here.”

You shake your head, breaths coming short and shallow.

He settles on the floor, crossing his legs. “Here, take my hand. Come on.”

He extends his hand into the space between you two. Achingly slowly, you put down the knife, and take his hand in yours.

“See? I’m still here.”

Eventually, your breathing slows, and the fear begins to leave your eyes. You drop his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, no it’s just—“ You break off with a strangled noise.

He waits. Lets a few minutes tick by.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact you’ve been avoidin’ me?”

You look down. “You noticed?”

“I do have eyes, sweetheart.”

You grab the knife again, twisting it this way and that in your hands.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

He tilts his head. “How come?”

You’re silent for a little while again.

“I feel… okay with you.”

“And that’s scary?”

“Yes,” You breathe, “You could leave, or die, and it scares me that I’m already attached to you. That having nightmare’s of you dying affects me so much. That they happen at all.”

He hums. “Seem’s were at an impasse.”

He taps a finger on his knee.

“It’s not all bad. To care.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “You know, against my better judgment, I’ve come to tolerate having you around.”

“Tolerate?”

“Mhm.”

“Nothing else?”

“No.”

“So you’ve never thought about kissing me?”

Heat rushes to his face. “Is that really a question you want to be asking right now?”

“Yes.”

“Mm,” He stands, “Well I don’t answer that kind of question at this hour. Come on.”

He reaches under the table and pulls you out.

You clamber to your feet, still a little shaky after your nightmare.

You turn to go back to the couch, but stops when he tugs on your arm.

“Mm-mm. No couch tonight.”

You look up at him, a question in your eyes he doesn’t know how to answer with words.

He steps forward, rough hands coming up to your face, thumb swiping the crest of your cheek.

“Tell me to stop.”

“I won’t.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss, soft and slow.

He pulls away after a few moments, searching your face for any sign of negativity or displeasure or disgust or, or—

You surge up, kissing him again, all the same fiery passion he saw the day you met.

“I suppose that answers my question.”

He chuckles. “You think?”

“I hope so.”

His hands slide down to your waist. and he can’t resist the little squeeze he gives the skin there.

“Alright. Back to bed, let’s go.”

“I forgot how tired old men get.”

“Please don’t call me an old man right after we kiss.”

He can hear your quiet snorting laughter as you climb the stairs, socked feet silent as always.

You climb into bed first, shoving yourself into the side by the wall and then making grabby motions for Joel.

“Am I just a pillow to you?”

“Yes. Come be a pillow.”

He rolls his eyes but slips into bed next to you and quietly relishes in the pleased hum you let out as you wrap your arms around his waist, practically smashing your face into his chest.

“You comfortable there?”

“Mhm.”

He curls one arm around you, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. This close, he feels the shudder run through your body at the motion, and curious, he gives your nape a little squeeze.

Your reaction is instantaneous. You go limp- completely boneless.

“I got you, I got you. Go to sleep, now.”

It doesn’t take you long. And with you asleep so soundly in his arms, he follows right behind you.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[enderlovez]

can you write Spencer Reid and his secret girlfriend that's a nurse/doctor, when the team comes back from a mission and reid is injured they all go to the hospital and they see them two flirting and figure it out

(sorry idk how to phrase it)

also can you tag me when it's out?

Kiss It Better

Spencer Reid x Nurse Reader

WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer gets injured on a case. Imagine his team's surprise when they come to see him and find his nurse flirting with him.

Content Warning: hospitals, Spencer got hurt on a case, probably a whole lot of medical inaccuracies, stitches and needles

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer sits on the edge of the hospital bed, his button-up shirt and cardigan draped over the back of a chair, leaving his undershirt rolled up past his elbow. His thighs are parted so you can stand between them, cleaning the small gash on his arm, your gloved fingers brushing over his skin with the gentlest touch.

"You know," you begin, your tone lightly teasing, "for someone with your IQ, you're really bad at stay out of trouble."

Spencer chuckles softly, though his ears turn a shade of pink. "It's not exactly something I plan for," he defends quietly, good arm wrapped loosely around your waist. "Besides, statistically, my injury rate is relatively low for the kind of work I do."

You glance up at him, a brow raised. "Spencer, you've been here three times in the last two months. At this rate, I should really just set up a reserved bed for you."

"Maybe I just like the company," he quips, and now it's your turn to blush slightly.

"Flirting isn't gonna get you out of a lecture about taking better care of yourself," you reply, tying off the final stitch and cutting the rest of the thread off. "There we are. Good as new."

Spencer watches as you peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin. Everything you do seems to catch him off guard, even after months of... well, whatever this thing between you two has become.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmurs.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. "I just stitched up a cut. Pretty sure that doesn't qualify as amazing."

"To me, it does," he counters, his gaze soft as he watches you walk around the room. "You're brilliant and kind and—"

"—And wondering why you're still sitting here," you cut him off with a grin, moving back to your previous spot between his thighs and holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "Don't you have a team to get back to?"

As if on cue, the door swings open, and a group of people spills into the room, their voices a mix of concern and exhaustion.

"Reid, how's—" a man with a shaved head starts, but immediately stops again, his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between the two of you.

The room grown awkwardly silent as they take in the scene: you standing between Spencer's legs—closer than any medical professional should be with their patients, his unbandaged arm hung loosely around your waist.

"Oh," says a woman with dark hair and a wicked smirk. "This is interesting."

Spencer shifts uncomfortable but doesn't quite move away. "Guys, this is—uh—this is Doctor L/N. She was just... patching me up."

"Patching you up, huh?" the man from before drawls, a teasing lilt in his voice, his grin widening. "Looks like a little more than that to me."

You straighten and take a step back, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the heat crawling up your neck. "Doctor Reid is in good shape now. He'll need to keep the stitches dry for a few days, but the cut wasn't too deep."

The blonde woman in the back raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. "Thank you, Doctor L/N," she says politely before her attention shifts to Spencer. "Though I have to admit, considering his arm got cut open, this is the first time we've seen him quite so... comfortable."

Spencer groans, his head falling slightly forward. "Can we not do this here? Please?"

"Oh, we're doing this," the dark-haired woman says, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"

"Emily," Spencer pleads, his voice laced with something somewhere in-between exasperation and resignation.

You glance between then, suddenly feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I'll just—uh—leave you all to it," you say quickly, stepping toward the door.

Spencer's hand shoots out, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. "Wait—"

But you shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. "It seems you've got enough explaining to do without me making it harder."

As you slip out and shut the door, you hear the inevitable teasing start.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The hallways is surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos inside, and you take a moment to collect yourself. You've grown used to Spencer's shy smiles and occasional compliments, but seeing him surrounded by his team—people who clearly adore him and who are incredibly perceptive—feels like stepping into a spotlight you hadn't anticipated.

You're about to head back to the nurses' station when the door opens again, and Spencer emerges, wearing all his clothes and his cheeks still faintly red.

"They're never going to let this go," he says, running a hand through his hair.

You bite back a laugh. "I can see why. You should've warned me they'd be so observant."

"I was trying to keep things simple," he admits, stepping closer, "but apparently, we weren't as subtle as I thought."

"Subtle?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically glowing in there, Spencer! You were quite literally holding onto me."

He grins sheepishly. "I can't help it. You make me happy. I like being close to you."

Your heart does a little flip at his words, but you roll your eyes for his benefit. "Well, now that they know, I'm sure the rest of your team will, so I guess our secret's out."

"They'll adjust to the idea," he says lightly. "And for what it's worth, I don't mind them knowing. I'm proud to be with you."

You smile, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his. "I'm proud to be with you, too. Even if it means getting interrogated by the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Spencer laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "They'll get over it. Probably."

"Probably?" you echo, laughing with him as you start walking back to the nurses' station.

He shrugs, his hand brushing against yours as he keeps pace. "I think Morgan might take longer. But that's okay. I'm not in any hurry."

@priv-rose

[pathologicalreid]

hello my new favorite tumblr writer 😇 i will b honest i have never requested anything before so!! bear with me. however the spencer reid brainrot is all too real SO would you be open to doing anything with a hotchner!fem!reader? bau or not for the reader! something something hotch is very hesitant about their relationship but maybe reader gets caught in the crossfire of something and hotch and prentiss see them together afterward and prentiss is like “that looks pretty real to me.” DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW THANK YOUUUU 🫡

a father's daughter | S.R.

in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

who? spencer reid x hotchner!fem!bau!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, blood, stitches, hospitals, medical inaccuracy word count: 2.03k a/n: anon you are legendary. this is an incredible request and i am so honored to be your new favorite tumblr writer! i am an absolute sucker for anything hotchner!reader (or rossi!reader) so i absolutely ate this request up! (also if anyone wanted to drop a request in my inbox... it would be welcome)

Aaron Hotchner was the most professional person in the BAU, except when it came to you. You, like him, had gone to law school. You were a public defender for just a short time before being put into WITSEC, and when your mother died, you applied to the FBI Academy.

Plain and short, it was nepotism, but no one was going to argue with the man whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. Your dad wanted you in the BAU so he could keep an eye on you, and there was nothing Erin Strauss could do about it. What your father couldn’t control, was your relationship with Reid.

He could tell you that he didn’t approve, but so long as David Rossi, king of inter-bureau mingling, was around, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop you. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen Reid be consistent with a relationship,” your dad said, having pulled you away from the team to, once again, try to warn you off of your relationship.

“He’s been pretty consistent for the last seven months,” you responded, rifling through the victims' files that were in your arms.

You started to make your way out of the empty office when your father spoke again, “And he’s too old for you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pivoted and faced your father, “He’s three years older than I am, I’m twenty-six. That’s hardly an age gap to bat an eye at.” The two of you had always had a rocky relationship, he missed a large portion of your childhood due to this job and you always tried to not resent him for it.

Your parents’ marriage fell apart, neither of them handled it well, and you weren’t all that surprised. They had gotten married when your mom got pregnant with you because they thought that was what they were supposed to do, and when Jack couldn’t keep them together, everything fell apart.

“You have no right to lecture me on relationships, Agent Hotchner,” you snapped, staring him down. Daring him to challenge you.

He sighed, obviously trying not to lose his patience with you. “I’d just hate for you to find out you wasted your time on something that wasn’t real.”

The door behind you swung open, you spun on your heels to face Emily. “Sorry, uh, we have a location, Morgan’s coordinating with SWAT,” she said, looking between you and your father.

“Great, let’s go,” your father said, his parental demeanor falling away as his Unit Chief mask took its place.

You walked out the door to see the rest of the team, Rossi tossed you a Kevlar vest as you walked over to where Spencer was standing with the police chief, “Where are we headed?” You asked, undoing the Velcro on the vest and pulling it over your torso. The beige precinct was buzzing as agents and officers prepared to break into the UnSub’s home base. Hopefully to find his most recent victim still alive.

Reid reached over and adjusted the strap of your vest, making sure it was evenly tightened over your shoulders. “Garcia found a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s being rented out under an anagram of the first victim’s name,” he said, gently squeezing your arm before dropping his hands back to his side.

Nodding, you followed the rest of the team out the metal doors of the precinct and into the black SUVs. “Your UnSub’s name is Jonas Watts, he used a different name to rent the space but the account he uses to pay for it is under his name,” Garcia’s voice rang through the speaker as she told you about the perpetrator. “He checks every UnSub box we have, raised by a single father after his mother left, and… oh, multiple arrests for assault.”

You looked up to the driver’s seat, your dad was white-knuckling the steering wheel, entirely focused on driving as you listened to Garcia reciting the UnSub’s rap sheet.

When you arrived at the warehouse SWAT was already there and Morgan started organizing the tactical assault. Drawing your weapon, you nodded at your teammate when he instructed you to go around the back with himself and your father. Allowing Morgan to kick the door down, the three of you held your firearms up and began clearing the warehouse.

Further away, you heard Emily and Spencer clearing the front. “Clear, moving up,” you called into your radio as you approached the stairs, stepping on them carefully so they didn’t creak. On the landing, you looked at a trail of blood on the ground. “There’s a blood trail in the upper west wing,” you whispered.

“Move up, little Hotch, I’m right behind you,” Morgan responded.

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, one that you had begged him to stop using, you moved forward, keeping your firearm aimed right in front of you. Turning into the room that the blood trail led to, you immediately ducked when you saw a knife coming for you. Keeping your gun aimed, you faced down the UnSub, “Jonas Watts, FBI!” You announced yourself, scanning the room for the girl he took last night.

Watts shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be here! You can’t be here!” He shouted in distress.

“Where’s the girl, Jonas? Where did you take Isobel?” You asked him, not seeing her in the room the two of you were in. There was another entrance on the left of him.

He stepped toward you, and you cocked your gun, “I don’t have her now. I lost her, she’s lost,” he said, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Unnerved, you decided to take a leap of faith, “Jonas, where’s your partner?” A partner hadn’t been part of the profile, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The crimes were too complex, it didn’t match up with something as simple as using an anagram of a victim’s name for the warehouse rental.

Morgan filed in behind you, aiming his gun at Jonas, same as you. “Time’s running out, Jonas. If you tell us about your partner we can help you,” he said, slowly inching toward Watts.

“It’s too late,” Jonas wailed.

Someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward before you were pulled to your feet. One arm was locked around your torso, and another was holding a knife to your throat. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll cut her fucking throat!” The unnamed man said from behind you, he was almost impossibly tall, easily overpowering you.

You didn’t dare move, not with that knife to your throat, one false move and you’d bleed out. Morgan shouted for him to let you go, but he just pressed the knife tighter to your neck, splitting the skin.

Shutting your eyes, you tried not to cry, fearing the damage it would do to your throat.

Your captor held you tightly to him, using your body to block Morgan from shooting. Something warm trickled down your collarbone, and you weren’t sure if it was blood or tears.

For a moment, you thought you could swing your foot back into his knee, but the fear of having your carotid cut outweighed your bravery.

Ever since you were a kid, you thought death would be quiet. Something you slipped into like sleep, but your death was loud, and it left your ears ringing.

The afterlife was the weirdest place you’ve ever been, someone was calling your name, and you heard your rights being read. Although, why you would need your Miranda Rights in the afterlife you had no idea.

“Angel, please open your eyes,” someone said.

Confused, you opened your eyes and saw familiar eyes staring down at you. Golden and bleary. Spencer, Spencer was here. You tried to sit up, but he held you down, keeping a hand on your throat.

Morgan was shouting for medical, saying there was an agent down. You turned your head to see the still unidentified UnSub on the ground, shot through the temple. Using his free hand to turn your chin, “Don’t look,” Spencer whispered. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, angel.”

If you weren’t still coming down from an adrenaline high, you might’ve smiled at the irony of the nickname. Being called ‘angel’ after having your neck cut felt like tempting fate.

Where was your dad? Of everyone here, you expected him to be here, barking orders at people.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your dad appeared, nearly hauling an EMT behind him, “Help her,” he said.

Yeah, that absolutely tracked.

The EMT’s packed your wound and assured everyone that your carotid had not been slit, against your protests, the ambulance brought you to the hospital for stitches. Emily had run to the hotel to get your go bag, allowing you to change out of your bloodied clothes.

Thankfully, the doctors said you didn’t need to stay overnight, meaning you and the team got to go home. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked while you were waiting to board the jet.

You hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes, and leaning against a car, “Tired, but I’m alright.” Tired might have been underselling it, you felt like all of the energy had been physically drained from your body. “You worry too much,” you whispered, closing your eyes for just a moment. Your throat was a little raspy, but it should go back to normal after a couple of days.

“Your throat was cut about four hours ago, some might say I’m not worrying enough,” he responded, reaching down, and picking up your bag, carrying it over to the jet once they got the okay to board. On the jet, he gestured to the seat, “Lay down, get some rest.”

You furrowed your brows, “Isn’t it kind of frowned upon to take up a whole seat?” You asked, of course, sometimes it happened, but you didn’t want to take up too much space.

Spencer cocked his head at you, “I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on it, love.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the seat, laying down and closing your eyes, falling asleep before you even left the tarmac.

Being the Unit Chief had its perks, surely, but the piles of paperwork sometimes felt never-ending. Aaron took a deep breath before he closed the file, Rossi sat across from him, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Prentiss whispered, taking the seat next to him and setting her glass of water down on the small table. “Do you see that?” She said, gesturing with her head toward where you were lying down, asleep.

Right next to you was Reid, who usually had his nose buried in a book at this point in a flight, but he was wide awake, and all of his focus seemed to be on you. Begrudgingly, Hotch watched as Spencer reached over and tucked a blanket around you as if he was afraid you’d freeze on the temperature-controlled jet. “What about it?” Hotch asked, reaching over for the next file.

His eyes flicked up again, Spencer was sitting on the floor of the jet. Everyone had elected to leave the couch seats for the two of you, but the one across the aisle from you was empty. Like Reid didn’t even want you to be any more than one foot away from him.

Leaning back in the chair, Emily shook her head, “That’s what we in the business call hypervigilance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just spared another glance over at the two of you. “’We in the business’?” He inquired, humoring Prentiss.

“I’m just saying… the hovering? The blanket? I don’t know about you, but that looks pretty real to me,” she said, leaning back in the leather seat.

Silently, he glared, it would seem his hopes of getting the team to stop eavesdropping on familial conversations were quashed.

“Just let the kids be, Aaron,” Rossi said, grinning into his glass.

He cleared his throat and flipped open the new file before he acquiesced, “Fine, for now.”

please reblog, like, and/or comment if you enjoyed 🩵

[hopelesslonelyghost]

thinking about simon with an emotional support medic (pt 2 here)

medical inaccuracies ahead, pls don’t mind. not beta read, sorry for any typosss

simon doesn’t know how he ended up where he did. absolutely smitten for the cute medic on base. he thinks it may have happened when he sliced his hand and had to come to you for the first time.

you and your beautiful, bright eyes looked up at him as he gruffly explained his situation. you quickly sat him down and got to work. after gathering all the stuff you needed, you sat quietly next to the ghost and cleaned his wound.

as you worked, you never once forced him to converse with you. didn’t try to poke and prod at him. you just hummed.

after applying some butterfly stitches and wrapping his hand up, you quietly expressed your content, a little ta-dah! slipping out. you took off your gloves as you stood, gently patting his shoulder, “all done big guy. anything else comes up, i’m here.”

ever since then there hasn’t been a day simon strays far from you whenever he’s on base.

tonight you’re staying up later than usual, trying to get all your charts up to date before heading to your quarters for some much needed rest. that is, until you hear a knock on the door.

your head perks up, eyebrows furrowing softly, “come in!”

eyes trained on the door, you watch it open slowly before a massive body is slipping through it, closing the door behind him.

“lieutenant!”

“hey doc.”

you set aside the paperwork you were working on and stand, making your way to him.

“what’s wrong?”

simon crosses his arms and huffs, “can’t jus’ come an’ visit anymore?”

you quirk an eyebrow, “simon it’s-“ you look down at your watch, then back up at him, “-it’s nearly midnight.”

while not uncommon for him to be in your office at this time, keeping you company as you finish up for the night, he had just come back from an op a few hours ago. he’d usually be in his quarters for the rest of the day, that was just his routine.

simon sighs and lifts his arm to go to rub the back of his neck, which he quickly aborts and hisses, arm flinching back down.

you freeze, “simon?”

he turns and goes to sit on the patient bed, “got tackled through a window, shattered it.” as he explains, he’s pulling the zipper of his hoodie down, eyes scrunching up in pain behind his balaclava before fully removing the article, “muppet pushed me into the broken glass. tried diggin’ it out on my own, but can’t see too well even through the mirror.”

shirt pulled up, he’s removing a few gauze taped onto his skin. you look up from where you’d ran to a few drawers, gathering all the stuff you need, piling it on a small cart.

you can see the gauze are red and heavy with his blood, but it appears to be controlled. a large gash is revealed on the right side of his torso, just below his ribcage. it’s jagged and deep. it runs from his ribs down to just slightly above his right hip.

“jesus si, that’s gnarly.” you sigh as you wheel the cart back towards him, grabbing a nearby stool and taking a seat. you glide over to him. you push him to lay back on the bed, pushing a few buttons to adjust the bed so that he’s not laying completely flat on his back.

you slip on gloves and tentatively prod at the wound. simon hisses. you quickly snatch your hands back and wince, “i’m so sorry. here, i’m going to add some local anesthetic, okay?”

he shakes his head, “it’s alrigh’. i’ll be fine without it.”

you make a sound that sounds almost like a whine, “simon.. there’s- there’s no way i’m allowing that.”

you turn slightly, getting the numbing ready, “i’m going to be digging into your side for god-knows-how-long.” you turn back to him and lock eyes, “you’ve already suffered enough. my job is to keep you healthy and comfortable.”

you two fall silent, caught in a silent war. whatever he sees in your eyes must be convincing enough, because he gives a slight nod and turns away.

you nod too, “good.” you open a few alcohol pads, “this might sting.”

•••

two hours later, you’ve successfully debrided, cleaned, and stitched simon’s wound. you’re tightly wrapping bandages around his waist

“remember, keep it dry for at least twenty-four hours, after that, you can take a quick shower. don’t keep it wet. we don’t want it to get infected. antibiotic resistant bacteria is a real threat. don’t forget that..”

“aye aye, doc.”

you finish up with his wrappings and stand up, slipping your gloves off and discarding them on the now messy cart, “come back in the morning so I can take a look at it again, and to change your gauze as well.”

you walk over to a locked drawer and thumb in a code before placing it on a fingerprint scanner. three small beep-beep-beep!’s ring through your office. you fish out a large white container and pop the top off, spilling a few pills into a white paper bag. putting everything back, you fold the bag and staple it shut.

you walk back to simon and hand him the bag, “antibiotics. they’re more of a safety net. take one every twelves hours.”

simon stands, pulling his shirt back down and snatching his hoodie up into his hands, “thanks love. really ‘preciate you doin’ this.”

you smile softly, “it’s my job to look after you, dummy.”

he huffs again, soft eyes locking with yours. he takes the medication from your awaiting hand and shoves it into the pockets of his hoodie, which he already slipped on.

he takes a few steps closer to you, very slowly he brings up his right hand, before its enclosed around the back of your neck and bringing you into his chest. he leans down and places a kiss onto the crown of your head. then another on your temple. and then a final one on your cheek.

“that’s my line, sweetheart.”

you stick your tongue out, “that’s too bad.”

[ssprayberrythings]

facing it together | CL16

charles leclerc x female!reader

warnings: emotional angst, pregnancy, accident, mention of loss, blood, hospitals, mention of loosing a baby

note: i took some inspiration for this from an episode of one tree hill (my favourite show) when haley gets into the accident while pregnant in season four / also i don't know much about medical procedures so im sorry for any inaccuracy and/or sounding unrealistic

word count: 3.7k

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You and Charles hadn’t been dating long but you were already head over heels for each other, knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your lives with each other.

Your relationship however had recently been thrown a curve ball in the shape of a positive pregnancy test. At first you were both stunned and at a loss of words but once the shock wore off, you were able to have a proper conversation on what you wanted to do and you both agreed you wanted this. 

There were some obstacles as Charles lived in Monaco when he wasn’t going across the world with his career and you lived in London where you had your job and your friends.

That was the first obstacle which didn’t take long to resolve, you wanted to be with Charles and if that meant moving to Monaco you were all in. 

The next obstacle was moving. Moving was a difficult task for anyone let alone a pregnant woman whose boyfriend could only be of help during small breaks at a time. 

Which was why you both had decided to hold off on the moving process until it was the summer break for Charles and he could fly to London to help you fully and so until then you decided to stay in London.

You would’ve loved to been able to go and see Charles during some of the races but your first trimester was nothing but a nightmare. 

Your morning sickness was basically all day, your body ached and most of the time all you wanted to do was sleep. Charles understood completely and would reassure you that you were housing your unborn child, he prioritized that above everything else.  

Another obstacle was the media. You and Charles hadn’t been dating long, less than a year and now you were having a baby. You were afraid of what people would say which was why you held off telling anyone especially the fans at least until you were situated in Monaco with Charles and then you could figure it out from there. 

Once you hit your second trimester, you started feeling better which brought both you and Charles relief. You had also been able to join him at Silverstone seeing as it was where you lived. You thanked London for being rainy because it allowed you to wear a hoodie to cover the bump you had started developing. 

It had been a decent race given the weather. Charles managed to get P4, he would’ve loved to have been on the podium for you but you reassured him you were proud of him regardless of where he placed, plus you reminded him with no podium celebrations gave them more time together which uplifted his mood. 

Luckily there was a bit of a break between Silverstone and the Hungary Grand Prix which meant Charles could not only spend time with you but could also help you start to pack up your apartment.

He had stayed as long as he could in between the races but unfortunately the time came when he had to go. You sadly smiled at him as you stood by your door 

“It’s only a few weeks baby and then we’ll be able to start being a family” you reminded him as he put his hand on your small but noticeable bump.

It was still a little early for Charles to feel your baby but you could sometimes feel little flutters, regardless he still enjoyed having his hands on your bump. 

He nodded at your words “I know I know” he said as he closed his eyes temporarily before opening them again and leaning down to give you a kiss before going on his knees to talk to your bump

“Hi baby of mine, its your Daddy” he started as you smiled looking down at him “I have to leave you and mommy again but I promise you soon we’ll all be together and then before we know it you’ll be with us in our arms” he said “I cant wait to meet you, I love you” he said giving your bump a small kiss before getting up. 

You shared another kiss and then he grabbed his bag, leaving. You sighed, you couldn’t wait till you were back in his arms and could officially start this chapter of your life together. 

The events that followed however was by far the biggest obstacle you, Charles and your unborn baby would have to face. 

-

You had been packing in between watching your boyfriend’s qualifying on Saturday and then ready to watch the race on Sunday especially given there was only an hour time difference.

Sunday rolled around and you realized you didn’t have anymore packing foam. You groaned of course right as the race was about to start so you quickly shot Charles a text, knowing he wouldn’t see it until after. 

'Y/N: Good luck baby! Me and Baby are rooting for you! ❤️ '

You sent it and then got up, putting your coat on, slipping your boots on and being sure to grab your purse that had your wallet in it. You left your apartment, locking up and started your way to the hardware store. 

You were a careful person when you crossed streets and always made sure to double check for any cars coming especially since the pregnancy, you couldn’t risk anything. If only today had been like others. 

It all happened so fast, you started stepping on the road to cross to the other side when a car came zooming and before you or the driver could react, the car had hit you pretty badly, knocking you out almost immediately.

The driver instantly pulled his phone out calling 911 before checking on you. You were bleeding from your head and your white coat had blood stains mixed with road dirt. 

The paramedics arrived as fast as they could and took care of you. The police had also arrived and had escorted the driver away to deal with him once he was all cleared.

You however were in pretty rough shape and once the paramedics realized you were pregnant too, they knew they had to move faster to hopefully be able to save you and your baby. 

-

Charles’ POV

That race had been so exhilarating. I had managed to get P2. Immediately I jumped into the teams arms once the car was parked and I was out of it.

As I got congratulated from everyone I smiled, thanking them and then made my way to the cooldown room. I spoke casually with Max and Fernando who were the other drivers on the podium. 

Eventually came time for the podium ceremony. I smiled at everyone down below and after the national anthem came time for the champagne showers. Once that was all done, I had some time to go back to my drivers room to freshen up a bit before some media interviews. 

I reached for my phone once I entered the room and a frown appeared on my face. There was only one text from you and it had been from before the race.

That was unusual seeing as you would usually spam text Charles and after his P2, you would’ve already sent congratulations with an excessive amount of emojis. 

Suddenly I felt uneasy, not sure if I should give you a call to check in. Before I could pull up your contact to give you a quick call an unknown number was calling me. The area code was from the UK, the only person I knew from there who would’ve been calling was you. 

I answered immediately “Hello” I said waiting for a response but instead was met with something that sounded alot like sniffles from crying “Hello” I said again a bit louder 

“Oh sorry, is this Charles? Y/N’s boyfriend” an unknown voice asked 

“Yes. Who is this? Is she okay?” I asked, the uneasy feeling never leaving me 

“This is Janice Im a friend and a co worker of hers, she gave me your number after she found out about the baby incase anything happened” she started saying

“I don’t know how to tell you this but she was in a pretty bad accident, she’s in surgery right now” she finished telling me.

Suddenly I felt dizzy and off balance. I sat on the couch in my drivers room and took in her words ‘accident’ and ‘surgery’. 

“Charles, are you still there?” I heard Janice ask even though I was struggling to find my words. Then suddenly it hit me and I realized what was happening. 

“Yes I’m here. I’m getting on a flight as soon as I can. Please text me the details” I told her before hanging up. 

The next few moments passed as a blur as I quickly dressed into proper clothes, not even caring where I through my race suit, someone could come in here after and tidy up. I grabbed my backpack and flew out the door. I needed to find Fred and then leave. 

I saw Fred luckily right when I rushed down the steps standing with Carlos 

“Ooi mate where are you going in such a rush” Carlos asked seeing how frazzled I must’ve looked

“My girlfriend she was in a bad accident, I need to get to the UK” I rushed out 

“Wait what happened to Y/N” he asked

“Im not sure I just know she’s in surgery and I need to be there for them when she wakes up” I explained then remembered no one knew about the pregnancy

“What do you mean them?” Fred asked 

I sighed, the longer I stayed here the more stressed I became “She’s pregnant. We were keeping it a secret until we were ready to tell people other than family” I said as Carlos and Fred both shared the same expression of shock and happiness but then remembered what had happened to Y/N. 

“Go, it’s fine, we’ll come up with a reason why you had to leave” Fred said matter a factly “Go to the airstrip. I’m gonna call ahead for a private jet, you’ll get there quicker” he said before stepping away, pulling his phone out to make the arrangements. 

I shared a look with Carlos before he nodded at me and I was out the doors. The lives of the two most important people in my life hung in the balance and I couldn’t get to them any quicker if I tried. 

-

After a flight that I swore took a lifetime, I finally arrived at the hospital Janice had texted me the address of. I rushed in to the front desk 

“Hi my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N was brought in, she was in an accident” I told the nurse slightly out of breath 

“Hold on let me check” she said typing away in her computer before bringing your file up “It looks like she’s in recovery. You’ll have to wait in the waiting room and the doctor will be with you in a moment to fill you in” she explained 

“She’s pregnant, is there anything on the baby?” I asked my heart aching at the thought of possibly losing the baby. “Im sorry sir, there’s nothing on the baby yet” she said sympathetically. I nodded and went to sit down. 

I hated hospitals. After loosing my father and Jules, they just made me feel very uneasy. I found it hard to sit still, every time I sat down my leg bounced to the point I had to get up and pace instead.

I just needed them both to be okay. I didn’t want to imagine what life would be like without either of them. 

“Family for Y/N Y/L/N” I head a doctor ask, I quickly walked over “Thats me, I’m her boyfriend and the father of her baby” I told him. I tried to gage the look in his eyes but he was hard to read which didn’t help my uneasiness. 

“Your girlfriend was hit pretty hard, she has a couple broken ribs” he started explaining “She also hit her head which caused some bleeding in the brain but luckily we were able to stop the bleeding, unfortunately because of that though she’s currently in a coma. We have hope she’ll wake up, it’s just hard to tell when that’ll be” he finished as I took in all of his words. 

“And the baby?” I asked hearing my voice crack 

“At this point it’s hard to tell, Im sorry” the surgeon said “I can give you her room number though and you can go sit by her bed. Hopefully she’ll be awake soon and we can get an ultrasound done for the baby” he told me as I nodded afraid to speak. 

Once I had her room number I took the elevator up and walked in when I reached the door. She was laying so peacefully, it almost looked like she was sleeping minus the monitors around her and the bandage wrapped around her head. I wanted to break down but I knew I needed to be strong for her and our child. 

I carefully sat down in the chair next to her bed, reaching for her hand, holding it gently and placing a delicate kiss on her bruised knuckles. 

“Oh mon amour” I whispered “I need you to wake up, not just for me but for our child” I said still whispering slightly even if no one was around “You’re my whole world, I cant lose you, either of you” I said placing a hand on her bump.

-

There was no movement or any change for the first few hours, I was starting to lose hope so I went to the one place I thought might be able to help.

I quietly walked into the prayer room, taking a seat in one of the back isles. I wasn’t an overly religious person which was why I wasn’t here for God but rather someone else. 

“Jules, if you can hear me I need you to do me a favour” I started closing my eyes “Please please pull some strings and do what you can up there to help her and our baby, I cant lose them too” I said as I felt a tear fall from my eye

“As much as I know you’d take care of them up there, I don’t want that” I continued opening my eyes and wiping the tears that started to fall “Just please, you and Papa, I need you two to help us out down here” I finished before getting up and walking back to her hospital room. 

-

Y/N’s POV 

Everything hurt. I felt this weight on me but I couldn’t figure out if it was really there or if my body just felt heavy. I used every bit of strength I had to try and open my eyes which wasn’t easy, especially with this weight on me.

Eventually the light started to shine through and after a couple blinks my eyes focused on a white ceiling. I couldn’t move my head too much but I was able to take a glance around me, I was in a hospital.

I thought back to the last thing I remembered and suddenly it all came rushing back, where I was going, starting to cross the street, the impact of the car, then after that it goes dark. 

I noticed a head on my lap, confused at first but then soon realized it belonged to my boyfriend. He must’ve been sleeping. More of the day came back to me; texting him before the race, not being able to watch it.

My throat was extremely raw but between my slight movement and struggling to take a few breaths I was able to muster out his name which got his attention immediately. 

“Oh my love youre awake” he said, I saw tears forming in his eyes “Wait here drink some water, the doctor said it might hurt to talk at first” he said as he leaned over grabbing a cup from the bedside table, helping me drink the water. It helped with the raw feeling. 

“Thank you” I said softly “What happened?” I asked even though I remembered some of what had actually happened.

“You were in an accident. Someone hit you with their car, the paramedics said your head was bleeding when they arrived on scene and it caused a bleed in your brain but the surgeons were able to stop it” he started explaining what happened after it went dark.

“You also have a couple broken ribs but they’ll heal with time” he finished stroking my face

“I was so scared when I got the call. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast to get out of the paddock before” he told me softly. I could tell he was barely holding it together. 

“Im okay. Im here” I reassured him taking his hand squeezing it so he knew this was real, he nodded. 

“What about the baby? Is the baby okay?” I asked suddenly as I glanced at my bump 

“They haven’t been able to do an ultrasound without you awake but they aren’t sure, they said we should be prepared for the worst” he told me sadly. I sighed, there was no way this could be happening. Before we could say anything more to each other, my surgeon came in 

“Oh Miss Y/L/N, it’s lovely to see you awake” he smiled at me, I did my best to smile back, he had saved my life after all.

“Im assuming your boyfriend told you everything I passed along to him so I wont bore you with the details again” he continued “I will say your broken ribs should take about 6 weeks to heal and you’ll have to come back for weekly checkups for your head until we can be sure it hasn’t started bleeding again” he went through his doctor notes. 

I nodded along with him “And one last thing, I’ve called the on call obstetrcian to come and do an ultrasound to see the status of your baby. She should be here any minute and once she’s done, depending on what she finds we may have to take follow up steps but we wont go down that road now. I’ll send a nurse in after the ultrasounds done to check on your vitals and then we can talk about discharge” he finished. I thanked him before he left. 

“Mon amour are you okay? Thats a lot to take in” Charles asked gently holding my hand

“Yeah yeah I’m okay, I just don’t know what we’ll do if we lost the baby” I shared with him using my other hand to rest on my bump 

“We’ll figure it out together” he told me leaning over and leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

-

After a few minutes passed, another doctor came in

“Hi I’m Doctor Smith” she introduced herself as she wheeled in an ultrasound machine with her “Lets see what’s going on with your little one” she said trying to be optimistic although everyone knew the results may not be good. 

I carefully lifted my gown up to reveal my stomach where she squeezed the ultrasound gel on then used the wand to move it around, turning the machine on.

Charles held my hand, not sure if he realized how tightly he was holding it but it didn’t matter I was squeezing his hand just as tightly. 

The room was silent while Dr. Smith continued to move the wand around starting to get a bit nervous until suddenly the silence was filled with a heartbeat.

At first we didn’t know if we had heard it correctly but then she moved the wand slightly over and the heartbeat became louder and clearer. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding in and felt the tears falling. 

When I turned to Charles he was also crying. I did my best to pull him closely to hug him, he wrapped his arm around me kissing my head. “They’re okay. They’re okay” he said as I nodded against him. 

“You have a very strong and healthy little boy here, I don’t see anything to be concerned about” Dr. Smith told us 

We pulled away from each other and looked at her “Did you say boy?” I asked. She suddenly became aware of what she had said

“Oh im sorry did you not want to know?” she asked, I shook my head,

“No no it’s okay, we just hadn’t gotten around to finding out yet” I explained as happy tears continued to fall.

She smiled at me “I’ll give you a moment and then I’ll be back with your surgeon” she told us as she used a cloth to wipe the gel off my stomach and then left the room, leaving the ultrasound machine in the corner. 

“Charles we’re having a boy” I said to him seeing he was in shock “Are you okay?” I asked worried since he hadnt said anything 

“Oh yeah i’m okay mon amour, I’m just taking everything in, I was so worried we had lost him” he told me 

“Come here” I said carefully moving over remembering about the broken ribs “No mon amour you shouldn’t move” he quickly said 

“Charles please come sit with me” I asked him, he saw the look in my eyes and knew there was no point in arguing so he carefully got up and sat next to me on the bed, being mindful of my broken ribs and the wires. 

I looked at him “We’re all okay, me you and our little boy” I reassured him placing his hand on my bump, he nodded. 

“I love you so much” he told me kissing my head again

“We love you just as much” I said back to him closing my eyes and enjoying being in his arms, knowing our baby was okay and eventually I’d be okay too. 

"Oh wait how did the race go?" I asked suddenly remembering, opening my eyes and looking at him

He chuckled slightly "I got P2" he told me a small smile appearing on his face. I gave him a similar smile back and kissed his cheek carefully

"Another thing to be happy about, congrats baby" I told him putting my head back on his shoulder as he entertained our hands together and kissed the top of my head.

There may have been some obstacles thrown our way and more to come but together we could face anything.

-

thanks for reading, i hope you liked it. i wanted to write something other than pure fluff so i hope this does well. let me know your thoughts and feel free to add yourself to my taglist for my future works <3

taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee @asparklysoul @bwormie @meadhbhcavanagh @talksoprettyjjx @ari-nicole

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

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MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

[unknownati]

Hello! I hope you're doing well :3

Can I get something about Ekko (headcanons, short scenario... you choose the format) with a s/o with chronic migraines? I absolutely love how you write him!! And it would be very special for me, considering that this topic is not talked about enough.

Thank you so much for your contribution to the fandom! ily byee

vi. ekko x gn!reader w/chronic migraines (hcs)

a/n: twin. I GOTCHU 😭🤝 and tysm!

i'm sorry if this isn't up to your expectations, i tried to do extra research on it (i was on r/migraine and like 3 different medical sites for a WHILE.) to make sure i repped u the best i could! please lmk if there's any inaccuracies :(

from what i read, most people's experiences were pretty similar so i tried to keep it in that middle ground.

warnings/tags: fluffy fluffy fluff, lowercase intended, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, descriptions of pain, reader gets insecure at the end (w/ comfort!), just ekko taking care of u like the gentleman he is really, i need this man

_____________________________________________

-ekko didn't quite know how to handle it when you first started getting close.

-you could tell he cared, constantly glancing over at you with worried eyes every time you rubbed your temples and took deep breaths. his hand would rest on your shoulder, and even though you brushed it off, he knew it sucked.

-you somehow managed to keep it pretty low-key until you two started dating.

-the first time he really got a glimpse into it was during a baaad week after you started dating.

-"doin' okay?" he'd murmur, kneeling down next to your duvet shielded figure. all you do is groan, sticking your hand out to find his, interlocking fingers with him.

"yeah, i guessed. brought you some meds, maybe it'll help make you feel a bit better."

he knew he was doing something right when you squeezed his hand and whispered "thank you."

it was the most grateful he's ever heard anyone sound for anything.

and even though those pain meds didn't do the best job in the world, it's the thought that counts!

-afterward, he started with peeking to see what meds you take, constantly keeping them restocked for you. he thinks you don't know he's the one sneaking them into your bag, your cabinet, on your nightstand, etc. you know. there's only one person in your life who you know would leave spray paint stains on the little bottles.

-he'd make sure to keep areas he knows you mainly hung around much dimmer. buys you blackout curtains and figures out how to make controlled light bulbs for you that can be dimmer or brighter as you needed.

-he carries a shocking amount of stuff on him. boom, canteen of water! boom, snacks! boom, painkillers! woah, what's that? ICE PACK! check behind your ears? holy shit it's a heating pad.

-one thing though; as much as he cares for you, he won't baby you. he knows just how capable you are of doing things...he will, however, give you major royal treatment. you will be getting that shoulder massage 🙏🏾

-during days where your migraines are less brutal, he just keeps an eye out for you. makes sure stay hydrated and well fed.

-he does your chores for you during those extended periods, tearing his gloves off to stick his hands into your pile of dishes and clean them up for you. when you shuffle downstairs later in the day to put a cup in there, you find a small little note in front of your now cleared sink.

'hope i could lighten your load (get it) ♡ - e'

-and it was such a stupid joke that almost didn't make sense but you'd be lying if you said you didn't smile wide as fuck when you read it.

-during the extended periods of your migraine attacks, when you're just in bed, he brings you literally anything and everything.

-when you wake up from a nap you can almost always find him cuddled close to you, drool pooling into your pillow.

-and he does not mind leaving where you are just for you to go get some peace and quiet.

-it hits you like a train when you're out with him and a few of his friends. the stinging, pulsing cluster of pain forming behind your eye made you groan. "fuck, baby 'm sorry my head is just...killing me."

"hey guys, we're gonna head out, okay?"

"what? no, you don't have to leave, i can just—"

he flashes you what is the most loving glare you've ever seen and just gets up, ushering you along with him. silence fills the walk back between the lanes, gravel and wrappers crunching beneath your boots.

"i'm sorry." you murmur, smoothing your fingers across the arch of your brow. the way he looks at you when the words leave your mouth made you think he was offended by them.

"why are you apologizing?"

"i just...don't want you to always have to stop enjoying yourself just for me."

"nah, don't say that. it doesn't bother me. plus, it means i get to go home and chill out with you more often, i'm fine with that."

"yeah, but what if i'm just too much? what if you get sick of...doing all this?"

he scoffs, pulling his glove off and stopping you from walking so he can raise your chin, looking at you with eyes so determined but so gentle. his thumb swipes between your brows, making you relax them. "you're never gonna be too much for me. and i won't. ever."

-and trust me.

-he doesn't.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 2 - Trust is a Two Way Street

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Mentions of war, mentions of death, descriptions of wounds, medical stuff, medical inaccuracies.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

The barrel is cold on your skin, you’re holding your breath, his finger is on the trigger. 

“Explain yourself.” A deep voice asks. You swallow hard trying to keep as still as possible.

“I’m a smuggler. I work for whoever pays. The people you killed, I was supposed to get them to Al Qatala. Konni pays me to smuggle people or weapons over the border. It’s easy to use ULF safehouses up here as a stop off point.” 

“You Russian?” The man with the mohawk asks. 

“Does it matter?” You almost spit back at him. 

“What about Al Qatala or ULF you done jobs for them too?” 

“If they pay, yeah. You’d be surprised  how desperate people can get.”  

“Gaz, stand down. She’s not a threat.” You see a hand land on his shoulder. You swallow again, looking up at him, his eyes are scrunched together, there’s real anger behind them. The gun moves from your head, you let out a sigh of relief, sitting back on your legs, you lower your hands slowly.

“What do Al Qatala pay you to smuggle?” Ghost asks. 

“I don’t ask. The less I know the less I’m a liability. I’m good at what I do, that's all that matters.” The man with the mohawk scoffs. Gaz moves back to stand with him. 

“You don’t even get a little curious?” Gaz asks, putting his pistol away. You sigh rolling your eyes, almost like it’s an inconvenience.

“POW’s, chemicals. High ranking members of Al Qatala, mostly for meetings with Konni, sometimes with Makarov himself.”

“What about the ULF?” 

“General supplies, the odd civilians, favors for Farah. It’s harder to cross the other borders. Russia is easy.” 

“So you’re not a medic. Can you even help him?” Ghost asks. You turn to look at him, you can’t tell if colour has come back to his face or not. 

“My mother was a nurse, my father was a doctor. I was on track to go to med school too.” You say, you’re not sure what’s going to happen now. You probably know as much as they do, they’ve most likely been trained on such situations. 

“Where are your parents now?” Gaz asks.

“Dead, killed in the conflict. Like almost everyone I know.” There’s sadness in your voice, you try to hide it. 

“You didn’t pick a side?” Ghost asks. 

“I did, in the beginning. Farah’s message was a popular one. It was the ULF who came to our aid when our town was attacked.” You pause looking round at them all. “It was the ULF who carpet bombed the hospital killing my father. A week later my mother was killed by Al Qatala when they raided a ULF base.” 

“I’m sorry, about your parents.” The mohawk man says, Gaz tuts. 

“Why become a smuggler?” 

“It was by chance. I managed to gather enough money to flee, and pay someone to get me over the border. We got talking, he offered me a job instead.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Probably dead.” You say as a matter of fact. You haven’t seen him in over a year. In the beginning he was like your mentor, teaching you the best routs how to use ULF and Al Qatala safehouses. Who to mention to get people to leave you alone. He vouched for you, got you jobs then when you were ready he just left. 

No one is saying anything. You move to stand up. 

“Your friend’s gunshot is not a through and through, that means the bullet is still in there. Pulling it out could kill him, I don’t have the equipment to check where it is or if he has any other injured organs. He needs a hospital.” You say urgently. 

“CASEVAC?” Gaz says.

“Not from here.” Ghost replies. There’s silence again. You squeeze your eyes closed sighing.

“There’s an abandoned vets in the next town, east of here. It will have the equipment I need to check him.” They could think you’re lying. They’re exchanging glances, you can almost see them thinking. It seems like Ghost is the one incharge, he shifts on his feet. 

“Okay.” 

“What about Farah?” Your head snaps over to the mohawk man, you need to get his name at some point, and figure out where his accent is from, he doesn’t sound like the other two.

“Nothing but radio silence.” Ghost replies. 

“How did you end up here?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You’ve been honest with them, maybe they’ll be honest with you.

“That's classified.” Ghost snaps, you nod. You expected that. 

“I heard Farah’s forces are moving north. We’re close to the Russian border. Maybe it’s best you wait?” You say offering up the only info you have on ULF’s movements.

“How do you know that?” Ghost asks. 

“I was warned they were on the move when I picked up this job.” You say. 

“By Konni?” Gaz asks, you nod. You hear Ghost sigh then mutter under his breath. 

“In your opinion, how bad is he?” Ghost asks, taking another step towards you, you hold your ground. 

“I don’t know. Moving him is risky, but there is no way to tell if the bullet is doing any damage internally. I couldn’t say without scans. There’s probably an x-ray at the vets.” You explain. “It’s 50/50 either way.” 

“And you know how to use one?” The mohawk guy asks, raising en eyebrow. 

“I-I could figure it out, I spent one summer shadowing a radiologist.” You explain. It’s a long shot, but right now it's about keeping yourself alive. As long as you’re useful you’re safe.

There are collective sighs around the room, glaces and nods of heads. Ghost lowers his weapon taking another step towards you. He opens his mouth about to speak when a groan from behind you stops him. 

You turn to see the man on the couch trying to sit himself up. Gaz rushes past you and you take a step back giving him room. 

“Price, don’t move. You’re okay.” He says. Price so that's the name of the man on the sofa. His eyes blink open and he looks around, you can feel Ghost behind you, the barrel of his weapon digging into your back. 

A gentle reminder they don’t trust you.

“Where are we?” Price groans, it’s barely words, you almost miss what he says.

“Urzikstan, ULF safehouse just across the border.” Gaz explains. They came from Russia, what were they doing in Russia?

“Shit, what happened?” Gaz is keeping him pressed down, his hand stroking his arm. 

“Convoy was ambushed, we had no choice.” 

“Alex?” Price asks.

“MIA, we lost track of him when you got shot. I made the order to fall back.” Ghost says but you can hear the strain in his voice. 

“Shit.” 

“It’s okay cap, we’ll find him.” So there are more people with them. Someone called Alex, and they’re missing. They had a convoy, most likely for the ULF. 

“Who’s she?” Price asks his gaze landing on you. You smile at him. 

“That’s a long story.” Gaz says.

next Banners by plum98

[mrsrileywrites]

My brain unlocked a bonus to this story right here 👇

It turned out longer than I thought, hope you all enjoy, don't forget to interact, I want to hear your thoughts and suggestions.

TW: labor, medical inaccuracies, soft Simon (if I missed any just tell me and I'll fix it)

1,784 word

"Simon?.... Simon!" You whisper yelled to wake the hulking man sleeping next to you, Simon being a light sleeper sat on the bed immediately. "Huh? What is it love?".

"I-I think I peed myself" you whispered about to cry from embarrassment.

You had been feeling funny all day, the ache on your lower back worse than ever and a cramp-like pain starting at the top of your belly and moving all the way down along with a little pressure on your vaginal area, it felt like your baby was doing big stretches inside of you, "it's a big baby", you told yourself, "maybe he's just running out of space".

Simon flung aside the covers and got out of bed, he was on your side faster than a lightning, he helped you sit on the edge of the bed and you felt like you peed again, you gasped as your hands flew in between your legs. "Oh... Oh no!... Oh my God!" Your voice was laced with panic. "What? What is it? What is it, love?" Simon, who was kneeling in front of you, tried to keep it cool but he was panicking as much as you were.

"This... this isn't pee... my water broke" you looked as realization hit him, his hands that were resting on your thighs squeeze gently. "Okay... okayokay... uh w-we practiced this before" Simon tried to reassure you or himself, you aren't sure.

As your due date came closer and closer, Simon, having the military ways engraved in his brain, made you run drills where he would go over everything you needed to bring to the hospital once the moment came, he would set a timer and load everything on the car, you included, just to see how long would it take him, you just needed to sit and wait, he would haul you in his arms like you weighed nothing and carry you to the car as you giggled on his arms, "Don't laugh at me love, this is serious!" He would scold you trying in vain to suppress the grin on his face.

And so Simon, just like in his drills, stared to get all the essentials you both had packed together, except now, he was acting more like a headless chicken, running around the house, mumbling to himself, as he put everything on the car, he sat behind the steering wheel and fasten his seatbelt, he looked at the passenger seat and cursed under his breath, you weren't sitting there, he got off the car and run back inside, there you were sitting on the couch where he left you trying to hold your laughter.

"Shit love, I'm sorry." his tone apologetic as he scratched the back of his head letting out a soft chuckle. Your face contorned in pain as a contraccion hit you and he was at your side in no time. "Breath, sweetheart... Deep breaths" he coaxed you, his voice soft like a feather, so you did, you breath through the contraccion until it went away, Simon tried to lift you off the couch but you refused, "I can walk, Si... I'm fine" he wasn't happy about it but he compelled without a fuss.

He helped you get on the car and secured your seatbelt before walking around with long strides and taking his seat behind the steering wheel. He drove to the hospital, one hand firm on the steering wheel while the other rested on your belly, your hand on top of his.

In every red light he would look at you and asked how you were doing, he took deep breaths with you and rubbed circles on your belly to help ease the pain of each contraccion.

The arrival to the hospital was smooth and in a short period of time you both were settled in a room, Simon helped you take off your clothes and put on the garments a nurse brought for you.

You were on the bed, a tocodyamometer was placed around your belly to measure the length, frequency and strength of every contraccion, you hated it, it squeezed your belly and made the pain worst, Simon sat next to your bed, holding your hand, attentive to each and every movement, the nurses were nice, they came from time to time to check on you, other than that they let you be and share this moment just between the two of you.

The contractions came more often, you had less and less time to recover in between each one, pain flooding your body like a tsunami.

As much as you loved Simon's cheer size, in this moment you were not so sure. Carrying his child had been a nerve wrecking experience, "a bigger than average baby" said your doctor on every appointment, which only added to your fears and anxiety. C-section had been an option, your doctor put it on the table without judgement, it was necessary in some cases she said, and this may very well be one of those cases, but you refused, you decided you will listen to your body and try and do this as natural as possible unless that was the only option, Simon stood with you, not like he felt he had a say on the decisions regarding your body but he decided he would support whatever you choose no matter what.

As the nurses got you ready for the big moment Simon left to the bathroom to put on the scrubs one nurse provided for him, the biggest size they were able to find, Simon came back looking like a doctor, he stood next to the bed again and you cling to his arm, he brushed your hair with his hand, "I'm scared" you wailed to him and it broke his heart, to see you scared and in so much pain.

He leaned over and caressed your cheek, "It's okay love, you are going to be okay, you are so brave and strong, you got this... I'm right here, I got you." You nodded and it soothe him a little, he was scared too but he wouldn't let you know. He would be whatever you needed him to be and right now you needed him to be strong and supportive.

"I'm going to tell you when and I need you to push really hard for me, okay?" The nurse guided you to push with each contraction as Simon wiped the sweat from your forehead whispering sweet praises next to your ear.

"Push, push, push!" The nurse cheer you. "I can't, Simon... I can't, it hurts" you cried. "Yes you can, you are almost there, sweetheart" he cradled your upper body in his arms "Just a little more, one big push and it'll be over". So you pushed, you tried your damn hardest and suddenly you felt relief.

The world seemed to stand still for a second and then you heard a loud cry. "Congratulations" the nurse praised you, "such a big baby boy, well done mama" she put your baby on your chest and you hold it immediately, your mother instincts kicking in.

You looked up at Simon, he was speechless, tears blurring his vision as he saw you holding a carbon copy of him. He placed his hand gently on the baby's back and kissed your forehead and thanked you over and over, he was so happy and proud of what you just did he felt his heart burst at the seems.

The nurse took the baby to weight and measured him but also to get him cleaned up and dressed. Simon stood behind her and snapped a quick picture over her shoulder to send to the 141 and show off.

You got settled into the room again, the big baby looking tiny on Simon's burly arms as he cooed sweet words rocking him side to side, and much to your dismay, all the new born clothes you so carefully picked fit a bit too tight on your baby.

It was already close to noon so Simon decided to go back home and get the 0-3 months old clothes you refused to bring just in case. He put the sleeping baby on the basin, the sooner he left the sooner he'll be back.

You thanked the heavens for Simon's methodical brain and his insistence on organizing the baby's clothes by color and size because at least he would be able to find them easily since you wouldn't be there to point out he isn't able to find what's laying right in front of his nose.

Simon came back short after just to find the room empty, no traces of you or the baby. Simon walked to where the nurses were, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his breathing shallow, a nurse guided him back to the elevator and towards the top floor, "intensive care unit" he read on the sign just outside the elevator which only added to the uneasy feeling brewing in his chest, his vision became clouded, why did they take you here? where's the baby? a tons of questions flooded his brain along with the rising panic.

The nurse knocked gently before opening the door to a room, Simon walked past her and stopped in his tracks as he saw you, sitting on the reclining chair, chubby baby sleeping snuggly in your arms.

You looked up at him and smiled, "Simon, they brought us here, they said something about a broken pip-" Simon took you in his arms and lift you with baby and everything to sit on the chair with you in his lap pulling you closer to his chest.

"Simon, you okay?" you asked a little shocked, "Mhm" he sniffled pressing his lips to your temple. "You weren't there" he spoke in a whisper but you could hear the fear in his voice "I walked into the room and you weren't there, I thought-".

The baby cried, hungry and bossy. You offered your boob and he latched sucking greedily, Simon caressed the patch of blonde hair on top of his head and smiled. "He's just like you" you cooed running your finger through his chubby cheek "He loves your boobs?" Simon teased you. "He's got a good appetite" you scolded him and he chuckled.

 

The day you got dismissed from the hospital came rather quickly and Simon got to put in practice everything he learned on the "car seat safety" class you both took.

The first night back home wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, Simon was right there to ensure everyone had a smooth transition into this new chaotic yet wonderful new stage on your lives turning fears into fierce protection.

(also I'm not very happy with the ending but my brain shut down and left me on my own 🥲)

[trustmypoison]

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.”

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 17) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 5.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Fluff; Talk of Marriage; Angst; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake gets his orders.

Series Master List

Master List

It was deathly quiet in Cyclone’s office and the only sound that Jake registered was his heart beating out of his chest. Slowly closing the folder, Jake turned back to Cyclone, who remained sitting with an impassive expression behind his desk. 

“I’m sorry, Hangman,” Cyclone replied quietly, his tone genuine. “There was nothing that I could do.”

Cyclone had been in Hangman’s position before. Twice, actually. And he didn’t relish in handing any man or woman orders that would take them away from their family. Especially during such an important time. But that came with the industry that they signed up for.

“I was expecting it, sir.”

And that roughly translated to: of course, they wouldn’t let me finally be happy

“Still, I am sorry. I’ve been in your position before and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.”

“Do you know how long I’ll be away?” Jake asked quietly, holding onto a tiny thread of hope. 

“Anywhere from two to eight months. Most likely, somewhere in the middle.” 

You were about six and a half months pregnant now. If he made it back in two months, he could be there for the birth of your child. But Jake knew from experience that he probably wouldn’t be home by then. And what if the baby came early? He’d be cutting it extremely close if he was lucky. 

Worst-case scenario, he would return home to you when the baby was almost six months old. Six months. He would miss your baby growing and learning all about the world around them. He’d come home and the baby would already almost be halfway to a full year old. He’d miss so many milestones, so many little triumphs. 

“Am I excused, sir?”

“Yes, of course. Take the days before you deploy and spend them with your family.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Slowly walking out to his truck with the most defeated feeling of his life, Jake slipped into the driver’s seat of his truck. He just sat there for a minute, processing the news, and trying to get his emotions under control. 

But once the tears started falling, there was nothing that he could do to stop them. 

Resting his head on his fist, Hangman let a batch of tears of complete and utter frustration slip down his cheeks. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel of his truck before the fight left his body and he slumped against the steering wheel, letting more tears slip down his cheeks. 

How the hell was he going to break the news to you?

~~~~~

The lights were on in your apartment when Jake pulled into the parking lot. He took the key out of the ignition and slowly slid out of his truck. Staring up at the window that showed into your living room, he took a moment to gather himself before heading inside. 

From the outside, you could be seen smiling to yourself, making dinner for the two of you. Your growing and prominent bump was covered by one of Jake’s tee shirts and you wore his ring on your finger proudly. The joy on your features only multiplied when you heard the door unlock and Jake step inside. 

As you hurried to wipe your hands on a towel, Jake set his bag down, and tried to push his emotions aside when he heard your footsteps. And when you came hurrying around the corner, his smile was pained as you ran up to him.

“We got the house!” you yelled, causing Jake’s mind to shift for a moment. “They took our second offer!”

“Really?” Jake breathed out as you nodded, practically bursting with excitement. 

“We bought a house!”

Jake held out his arms and quickly pulled you close to his chest, his mind still on the news that he had to break to you.

The kiss that you initiated was light-hearted and celebratory, full of playful little pecks. But the kiss that Jake returned was one of deep-seated emotion, like he was afraid that you were going to disappear right in front of him. He held you firmly, his arms enveloping your figure and cradling your bump with every touch of protective energy that he possessed in his body. 

You pulled back, your brows furrowed, as you cupped his cheeks with your hands. Staring into his eyes, you rubbed your thumbs along his cheeks. 

“Jake, what’s wrong?”

From the outside, Jake could be seen leading you over to the couch and sitting you down. He forced himself to gather his courage as you looked at him with concern. Letting out a breath, he turned back to you and finally broke the news. 

As he slowly explained the situation, your expression started to change. There was a flash of fear that built and built until a defeated, frustrated look drew your gaze down to your lap. Jake leaned over, whispering soft words until you picked your head up. Forcing a smile to assure Jake that you were alright, you couldn’t help the tears that started slipping down your cheeks. 

Jake wiped them away with his thumb, starting to cry again himself. The two of you shared another kiss before Jake pulled you into his lap. Curling against his chest, you dug your fingers into his shirt, trying to hold in the sobs that were crawling out of your throat. Jake rested his head on top of your own, whispering all kinds of words of reassurance that neither of you truly believed in. 

He had been in this industry since he was eighteen. You grew up around the Navy. 

And you knew what this would mean for your family. 

The two of you sat there, locking in embrace, as the sun started to slip below the horizon. Jake rested his arm around your bump, hoping that your baby would still be there when he returned. He’d never forgive himself if he missed the birth of your child. Especially if anything went wrong. 

He would never forgive himself. 

The sun had completely set when you finally uncurled yourself from Jake’s chest. Sitting up, you brushed your hand through his hair a few times, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. Jake slowly opened his green eyes, the eyes that you quite honestly pictured your baby inheriting, when you removed your hand from his head.

“We have a few days,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion as you tried to find the good in the situation. There wasn’t much to be found, and you were really trying your best to not start crying all over again. “What did you want to do with them?” 

“Spend every minute with the two of you.”

“Anything more specific?” you teased him, trying to smile though Jake couldn’t seem to return it. “You want to take a trip or go shopping for some more baby stuff or . . .?”

You trailed off, trying to think of something else when Jake gently grabbed your hand. You looked down as he slowly turned your wrist over and ran his thumb over your engagement ring. Sharing a look with Jake, you felt another batch of tears start to form. 

“I know you mentioned wanting to wait until after the baby was born because it would just be too chaotic to think about now . . . but—”

“—Yes,” you agreed quickly. “I’ll marry you, Jake.” 

He offered you a genuinely touched smile, a different batch of tears coming to his eyes. You wiped them away while you shed some of your own before pulling him in for a soft, loving kiss. And Jake could only pull you closer, savoring one of his last opportunities to do so. Breaking away a few moments later, you flashed him a painful smile.

“I guess I should find a dress.” 

~~~~~

Sitting with your head in your hands at Bradley and Emma’s kitchen table, you tried to not let your stress show. Everyone was giving you looks like they were waiting for you to finally break and you just frankly did not have the time. 

You were marrying Jake that afternoon and you didn’t have a wedding dress to get married in. 

The day before the two of you had run around like crazy people, making sure that all of the necessary documents were being prepared for the closing of your house. Then you spent time at his lawyer’s office, signing off on wills and other documents to protect yourselves and the baby while Jake was away. And you did a fair amount of crying along the way and so here you were, still without a dress. 

“I just don’t know where I’m going to find a white dress that fits me in time,” you told Penny, picking your head up from your hands. 

“We’ll figure something out,” she assured you, squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can find a dress down at one of the department stores in town.” 

“And what if we don’t find something?”

“We’ll find something,” Emma said from your other side. “You’ll have a white dress for this wedding.”

“What about this one?” Bradley called, causing the three of you to turn to him. 

Your brother held up the vacuum sealed bag that contained your mother’s wedding dress from her own wedding in 1983. It used to sit in your apartment closet, up until you moved in with Jake and were pretty much forced to hand it over to Bradley since you didn’t have any space in the apartment. 

After your mom’s death, you knew that you would incorporate her dress into your own in some way. Perhaps with a bit of fabric. Or you would borrow the veil. Something small that would have her with you on your special day, but also not holding you back with eighties fashion. 

You never really pictured actually getting married in your mom’s wedding dress.

For one thing, there was the little detail that your mom was over five months pregnant when she married your dad. 

Apparently, shotgun weddings and unplanned pregnancies ran in the family. 

Walking over to your brother, you inspected your mother’s wedding dress a little closer. It was fitted at the bust, but even with the slight cinch at the hips, the fabric was loose. It had to be. Bradley’s fat ass had to be accommodated. The skirt was a bit full, but nothing crazy. The bodice was covered in delicate lace and it had the distinct puffy sleeves from the eighties. 

“Mom’s dress,” you said quietly, turning to your brother. “You think I should wear Mom’s dress?” 

“It’s the only suggestion I have,” Bradley replied softly. And when he saw a flash of doubt in your eyes, he asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“I just don’t want to ruin it,” you replied, running your fingers along it. 

“You’re not going to ruin it,” Bradley assured you, causing you to turn back to him. “She always said that she would have married Dad in a potato sack. She didn’t care about the dress. She just wanted to get married, that was all.” 

“She never cared about any of that,” you agreed, sniffling a bit. Wiping your tears away, you croaked out, “I just wish she was here.” 

Bradley pulled you in for a tight brotherly hug that you quickly returned. Emma carefully took the dress from Bradley’s hand, letting him properly hug you. You held onto your brother and sobbed, your promise to yourself about not breaking down falling to little pieces at your feet. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how Jake got called up for deployment when you were nearing your third trimester. It wasn’t fair how the two of you had to cobble together some random ceremony at the last minute. It wasn’t fair how you couldn’t have your parents at your wedding. It wasn’t fair how you could have your baby without Jake by your side for months.

And it all just came rushing out as your big brother protectively hugged you in the middle of his kitchen. 

“It’s going to be alright,” he told you, sharing a worried look with Emma. “You’ll see.” 

“I’ve lost enough. I just wanted to win this one time, Brad,” you sobbed, causing your brother to start to tear up too. “I just wanted him here for a few more months. That’s all I needed.” 

“I know, I know,” he told you, rubbing your back. “It’s going to be alright.” 

The two of you stood there for a few moments, maybe even minutes as you cried and Bradley tried his best to comfort you.

“And Mom and Dad aren’t here to walk me down the aisle,” you continued on, sniffling repeatedly. 

“I cried about that too, on my wedding day,” Bradley told you quietly, voice thick with emotion. “But they’re both here. And they both wouldn’t want you to cry like this on your wedding day.”

“I know,” you whispered, wiping your tears away. 

Giving your brother another hug, you stepped back and turned to see Penny, Emma, and Sarah, who had come in while you were crying to Bradley, standing there, waiting for you. 

“So, do you want to wear your mom’s dress?” Emma asked softly, holding it up for you. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with a small smile, wiping some more tears away. “I’ll wear my mom’s wedding dress.”

Penny walked over and gave you a tight hug before leading you over to the guest bedroom with Sarah and Emma trailing after the two of you. 

“We’ll get you fitted into the dress and while Sarah’s sewing it up, you hop in the shower and get all of the tears and snot off of your face and then we’ll really start getting you ready, alright?”

~~~~~

“. . . and that was how I met your mom,” Jake recorded his own voice, sitting in your shared apartment. 

With you at Bradley and Emma’s house to get ready, Jake was taking the opportunity to put together a little gift for you. He ordered a set of headphones for your bump and now he was recording little messages to your baby. 

Saving that message, Jake was about to start another one when there was a knock on the door. He got up from his seat and walked over, letting Javy in. Just like him, Javy was dressed in his dress whites and he offered Jake a smile of condolence as he walked into the apartment. 

“How’re you doing?”

“I’ve been recording messages. For the baby,” Jake replied softly, shutting the door. “For her to play when I’m deployed.” 

“How many do you have now?” 

“Six,” Jake stated, showing Javy his phone. “I’m hoping to record a few more before I leave.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake,” Javy stated quietly, trying to not let defeat enter his tone. Jake’s expression already had too much of it for Javy’s taste. “You should get to be there. And there’s still a chance, but this isn’t fair and you have the right to be pissed about it.” 

“I’m not even angry anymore. I’m just . . . depressed,” Jake returned quietly. “And I’m worried about her. I’m terrified that this is going to push her into early labor or hurt the baby or something like that.” 

“We’ve already passed around a sign up sheet,” Javy told Jake, who looked at his best friend with a measure of confusion. “Every day, at least one of us is going to stop by and spend time with her. Check on her. Help her with anything that she needs help with. Make sure that she and the baby are alright. She’s not going to be left here alone.” 

Jake nodded slowly, tears threatening to fall. He bit his lip, trying to hold it in, but when Javy pulled him into a tight hug, Jake let a few fall. 

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” Javy repeated sorrowfully. 

Straightening up after a few solemn moments, the two aviators collected themselves before Javy put on a brave face for his best friend. Looking around the apartment, Javy turned back to Jake. 

“So, you got the rings?”

“Yeah, we bought them yesterday,” Jake replied, walking over to your bedroom. 

He pulled out a fabric bag and handed it over to Javy, who opened it and dropped the rings into his hand. To match your engagement ring, the two of you bought silver wedding bands. They were simple, traditional wedding bands, but when Jake got back, the two of you were already discussing getting something engraved on the inside of them. 

But right now, the most important fact was that the two of you got married today. All the other details could come later. 

“Anything else that you’re supposed to bring?” Javy asked, handing the bag back to Jake. “You got all of the paperwork?” 

“Right here,” Jake replied, picking up a folder from the kitchen counter. “I’m just waiting for the text to start heading down there.” 

“Go record your messages to your kid then. I’m going to call Nat,” Javy told Jake before heading out of the apartment. 

Pulling out his phone, Javy pressed Phoenix’s contact and held the phone to his ear as he walked over to the stairwell. After a few rings, Phoenix picked up the call. 

“Hey, you at Jake’s?” she answered quietly. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

“How is he?” 

“He’s fucking broken, Nat,” Javy sighed, rubbing his face. “I’ve never seen him look this defeated before.” After a pause, Javy asked, “How’s she doing? Did you make it to Rooster and Emma’s place?”

“They’re doing some quick alterations to her dress. And Emma is doing her hair and makeup right now. So, we’ll probably be heading out within an hour.” Phoenix took a moment before adding, “She’s trying to pretend like she’s okay but Rooster said that she had a bit of a breakdown earlier.” 

“But she’s okay now?”

“Physically, yeah, she’s fine. Emotionally, I’m worried. But Penny’s keeping a close eye on her.” 

“I just feel so bad for them.” 

“I know, me too,” Phoenix replied softly. “Where’s Jake now?” 

“Don’t tell her because I’m pretty sure that he wants to make it a surprise, but he’s recording messages to their baby for her to play while he’s gone.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Phoenix sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that he has to leave tomorrow. They can’t even fully enjoy their wedding night.” 

“I know,” Javy sighed, glancing down the hall at your and Jake’s apartment. “I’m going to go check on him again. Text me when you guys are heading down to Town Hall.” 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

~~~~~

You sat in Emma and Bradley’s bathroom as Emma applied some eyeshadow to your eyelids. She had already braided your hair into a simple updo with some help from Phoenix before working on your makeup.

“Alright, no more crying, okay?” Emma stated as she pulled out your eyeliner and mascara. “Once this is on your face, no more tears.” 

“I’ll try my best,” you returned quietly. 

Closing your eyes as Emma applied your eyeliner, you could hear the sound of footsteps down the hall. When Emma told you that you could open your eyes, you turned your head to see Maverick standing at the entrance to the bathroom. He was already in his dress whites and offered you a supportive smile.

“Hey, Mav,” you called to him before Emma turned your head to apply your mascara. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Like I’m tired of everyone asking me that question,” you replied, causing a small smile to crack at Maverick’s lips. 

“Did you find something to wear?” 

“I’m wearing Mom’s dress,” you replied, turning back to him after Emma removed the mascara brush. “Sarah and Penny are fixing it up quickly right now in the guest room.” 

“You’re wearing your mom’s dress?” 

“With a few alterations. I had the sleeves cut off,” you explained, causing Maverick to nod slowly. “But it actually fits pretty well. Turns out that my baby at almost seven months is about the same size as Bradley when he was five months.”  

“He was a big baby,” Maverick replied, missing Emma’s wince. 

“You think that she ever pictured me walking down the aisle in it?” you asked Maverick as Emma finished up with your eye makeup. 

“She was probably hoping that you’d get married first and pregnant second.” 

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” you returned with a shrug of your shoulders, causing you and Maverick to share a quiet laugh. 

“Well, Phoenix bought you a bouquet. And are you wearing a veil?”

“No, it was just another thing to worry about.” 

“Then that should be everything. Do you need anything else before I start rounding everyone up?” Maverick inquired, straightening up. 

“Yeah, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you help walk me down the aisle?” you asked him, causing Maverick to freeze. 

“Of course, I will,” Maverick promised you.

Emma stepped aside and you slowly stood up to accept Maverick’s tight hug. You returned it, trying not to cry, but Maverick let a few tears slip from his eyes for the both of you. He slowly pulled away, holding you at arm’s length. 

It was hard to believe that the little girl who he remembered learning how to walk, who asked him to help put her tiara on properly, was now pregnant and getting married. Goose’s little girl was all grown up. Carole’s little girl was all grown up. 

And Maverick knew that he was going to cry about it. 

“You’re going to make such a beautiful bride.” 

“Thanks, Mav,” you returned, pulling him in for another tight hug. 

“Alright,” Maverick sniffled, slowly releasing you. He quickly dried some tears before stepping out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go and make sure that everyone’s where they’re supposed to be and leave you to finish getting ready.” 

“Bye, Mav.” 

You waited for him to go before turning back to Emma, who put the final touches on your makeup. Dabbing your lip color a bit more, she smiled and stepped back. 

“There, you’re all set. Let’s get you dressed.” 

~~~~~

Bradley drove you down to Town Hall in the Bronco because it just felt like the proper send off. Accepting his hand, the two of you started walking up to the building. Turning to your brother with a nervous smile as you linked your arms together, you poked him in the side. 

“Can I ask you something, Brad?” 

“Of course, I’ll act as your getaway driver,” he joked, helping you up the stairs. 

“Actually, will you help walk me down the aisle?” you asked him, causing him to pause for a moment. “I asked Maverick to walk me too, but I have two arms.” 

“You’re sure that you want me to walk you down?” Bradley questioned, turning back to the stairs. “I mean, I know I wasn’t the most supportive of you and Jake in the past. And I just offered to be your getaway driver.” 

“I know, but I want you to walk me down. You’re my big brother, Brad.” 

“Are you trying to get me to cry?” Rooster jokingly asked, refusing to look over at you, because he knew that he would actually start crying if he did. “But, of course, I’ll help walk you down the aisle. I promised you when we were kids, didn’t I?” 

“You did.” 

Maverick met the two of you up at the top of the stairs. You looped your other arm through his own and shared smiles with your family before the three of you walked inside Town Hall. They led you through the building and to the ceremony room. Standing in front of the big doors, you took a moment to gather yourself.

“You ready?” Maverick asked you softly, causing you to smile and nod.

“I’m ready.” 

The doors opened and you turned forward to see Jake waiting there for you, dressed in his immaculate dress whites, looking like a dream. There was a small crowd of friends and family, but the two of you were only focused on each other. 

You offered Jake a small smile, letting a few tears drip down that you’d held in for the sake of your makeup. Jake rubbed his chin, trying desperately not to cry himself, but there you were, dressed in a white dress, looking like a goddess with your prominent baby bump where your shared child was growing. 

And he started silently sobbing himself. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, you accepted kisses on your cheeks from both Bradley and Mav before Jake gently took your hand into his own. The two of you stepped up onto the very small stage and faced each other as the officiant began the short service.

You reached up and wiped Jake’s tears away with your hands and as you tried not to cry too many of your own. The two of you repeated your vows clearly and without hesitation as you slipped your wedding bands onto each other’s fingers. Holding hands in front of your closest friends and family, you smiled widely as the officiant got to the end. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may—”

Jake’s lips pressed against your own before the officiant even finished his sentence. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as your friends and family cheered for the two of you. 

“I love you,” you told Jake as he broke away and rested his forehead against your own. 

“I love you too,” he returned softly, stealing another kiss. “My wife.”

~~~~~

“I have a wedding present for you,” you told Jake that night as the two of you laid in bed. 

You rolled to the end of your bed and slowly got up, walking over to your dresser. Jake sat up from his own spot, watching you curiously. 

“You had time to get me something?”

“I picked it up yesterday.” 

Pulling out a simple plain white envelope, you walked over to Jake’s side and sat down beside him. Jake took the envelope from your hand and paused when he saw the logo from your obstetrician’s office. 

“What is this?” he asked you quietly, an edge of concern in his voice. 

“I wanted to wait to find out the baby’s gender until they were born,” you started off with, causing Jake to nod slowly. “But I also want us to be the first two people to find out. And just in case—” 

Your voice broke and you cut yourself off as emotion clogged your throat. Jake quickly swooped in and pulled you in for a hug and a soft kiss. You rested your head against his shoulder, staring down at the envelope as you gathered yourself. 

“It’s your choice, Jake. We can find out now or we can find out when the baby’s born.”

Jake looked down at the simple little white envelope in his hands. You didn’t move to rush him, but you sat up more when Jake pulled the paper out of the envelope. Turning to you, he held out the piece of paper and motioned for you to take the other side. 

“On three,” he stated, causing you to nod. 

The two of you counted down together before you opened it together. Staring at the simple message written there, you let out an incredulous laugh and Jake pressed a series of kisses to your cheek and neck as he pulled you into his lap.

“I knew it,” he breathed out, resting his hand on top of your bump.  

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” you asked him, causing him to shake his head. You let out a bright laugh, some joy returning to you. “We’re having a girl, Jake.” 

“I’ve been telling you,” he insisted, causing you to jokingly nudge him. The two of you shared a soft series of kisses before Jake pulled back. “We’re having a little girl.” 

“She’s going to be a handful.” 

“That was going to be true regardless,” Jake reminded you, causing you to laugh again and sink into his arms once more. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

“And I love our daughter so much.” 

“She knows that, Jake,” you replied softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “She knows.” 

~~~~~

Jake barely slept that night. 

The two of you discussed it the night before and agreed that it would be less stressful on you and the baby for him to leave on his own in the early morning. You said your goodbyes the night before and Jake managed to coax you to sleep after another round of tears and kisses.

Getting up before his alarm, Jake took a quick shower and got dressed in his uniform. His bag was already packed and all he had to do was say goodbye to you and your daughter. 

But that was going to be a difficult process. 

Kneeling on the floor in front of you, Jake rested his hand on your bump and pressed a kiss to your skin before moving his hand around some more. He let a few tears drop as he tried to feel your daughter moving around to no avail. 

“I’ll be back, Baby Girl, alright? I just have to go take care of some things, that’s all.” Jake took a moment and a deep breath before adding, “You’re going to be a good girl for your mom, right? Let her sleep at night and don’t dance on her bladder, okay?” 

Removing his hands from your bump and moving to stand, Jake looked up at your peaceful expression one last time before turning back to your bump. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart. And I’ll be back. Don’t you ever think that I’m abandoning you, okay? I’ll be back.” 

Jake stood up and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your face. Not wanting to risk waking you up, he withdrew and let out a quiet sigh.

“I love you, Honey. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

A few moments after Jake reluctantly left for base, you snuggled into your pillow, still deeply asleep. As you continued to snooze, there was a small press on your skin, like a little fist was waving goodbye, before it slowly sank back down. 

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you. 

“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark. 

“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”

you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.

it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in. 

he was laughing?  

“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’. 

gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face. 

“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man. 

“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red. 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job. 

“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”

“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him. 

“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”

your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle. 

you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.

finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes. 

you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself. 

“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.

“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact. 

“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”

why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin. 

“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”

“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”

some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.

“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.

you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room. 

you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased. 

he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”

“ our ?” you questioned.

“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”

“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically. 

“i woulda asked for you regardless.”

“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”

“ya can’t.”

you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets. 

“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern. 

“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone… 

“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”

that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?

soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”

“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”

“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”

“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily. 

“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come. 

it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open. 

the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.

“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”

you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.

“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly. 

“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you. 

“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”

“lonely?”

“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”

ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought. 

you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”

you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself. 

you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.

you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him. 

he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen. 

you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap. 

you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you. 

you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist. 

“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.

in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“

he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”

you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.

“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome. 

ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.

but he was silent. 

“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.

oh my god, were you going to cry?!

you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.

you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin. 

his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional. 

“ghost give ya a hard time?” 

“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”

soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.” 

you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.

“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.

“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.

you slouched against him. 

“do you think i’m cut out for this? 

he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”

you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”

“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”

you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.

your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”

you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.

“okay,” you agreed. 

“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.

you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.

chapter 3 ➡