#my partner and i are going on a 'double date' with my roommate and his boyfriend

[trashpremiium]

i will remain normal about having to actually spend my time studying and not hang out with people <- (lying)

[xveenusx]

Indifference

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Two people who are in love, well he used to be

Authors note: you guys like when I make you cry

Rating: angsty

Warnings: it'll hurt :)

__________________

He was late.

Time was a funny thing. Minutes turned to hours which rolled into days then suddenly months began to blur into years. In that time, people tend to go out and experience things, falling in and out of love, enjoying everything life had to offer.

Yet, I somehow found myself motionless, the spark that once ignited my core had been stifled to a small ember. Life continued to pass by while I remained glued in one place, watching as everyone around me attempted to achieve some form of happiness.

I was once like that. Filled with some much hope for a life with someone I loved, who showed up to support me and believed in my capability, because at one time in my life that was exactly what Rafe was.

Like I said, time was a funny thing. The more time passes with your partner, the more comfortable they seem to get. They stop trying. However, at what point does being comfortable become almost negligent?

Dates were canceled, appointments missed, and important accomplishments forgotten the more time went on. Rafe’s priorities shifted and I went from being the center of his world to being a planet merely circling his gravitational pull.

In his mind, we were forever, so a couple of cancellations here and there and bouts of forgetfulness were nothing in the span of things. I would have agreed had the cancellations not doubled with time or our conversations going from intimate and deep to surface level at best.

He was never home. It was always just me in this large house on figure 8.  Suddenly, he went from being the moon and the stars to just a bleak, unforgivable starless night. Cold and dark.

We had met when we were 16 and he was every bit a spoiled little rich boy that had extreme daddy issues, but there was more to him than that. I picked at his defenses until finally they shattered, and I was engulfed by all of him.

He was just different around me and that fact alone left me delighted. It made me feel special, almost stupidly so.

Things between Rafe and his father were already tense enough since Rafe bought a motorbike with the money he was supposed to spend on the generator. Then everything began to snowball out of control from there. He threw himself into his father’s work and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with Kells and Topper doing god knows what and snorting anything he could find.

Despite all of this, Rafe always kept me close and always let me in. 

Last year, when Ward had gone with Sarah and John B to South America, and didn’t return, something shifted inside him. His defenses were rebuilt, only this time he left me on the outside, and no matter how hard I tried to break him down brick by brick, nothing worked. He became obsessed with running Ward’s real estate empire better than he ever did.

Rafe was a cold and calculated legacy with a large chip on his shoulder that made him lethal against competing firms. He chewed them up and spit them out.

With every major milestone, it was never enough for him, and like a man possessed he continued to ruthlessly target anyone that had done him wrong. We had everything and yet the bitterness seemed to consume him. He was someone I saw once a day if I was lucky. He always left before I woke up and was never home by the time I went to bed and suddenly we were glorified roommates.

Once upon a time, I would stay up waiting for him with my heart in my hand, hoping to connect in any way. Even if I only had a few minutes to spend with him before he went to sleep, it was enough for me. But, 10 pm became 11 pm which turned into 12 am and so I gave up. My sleep schedule was already a mess as thoughts and insecurities pestered my mind of another woman.

“Any word from him yet? Some of the donors are asking for him?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to face my assistant, Rai.

Her question is innocent enough, but I can hear the slight concern in her voice and I know she has her doubts which only serves as another humiliating reminder that Rafe has done this to me repeatedly.

But this was different. He knew how important this charity dinner was to the shelter I opened up for women and children who suffered from domestic violence.

As someone who came from the cut, it was everywhere and so many didn’t have the means to flee and so they were forced to stay and in the most severe instances, die.

Rafe gave me the start-up money as a gift and it was a huge success that I opened several more as well as fund for scholarships for both the mothers and kids. Which is what brings me to now, a charity dinner and auction to help fund said scholarships and pay for all the shelter necessities.

He promised he would be here. It’s important for the donors to see him here seeing as though he donated a huge sum once more and could ease the minds of those who are teetering on the edge. It’s also important to me. This project is mine, something I created and shared with the world and I want to share it with him too.

I want him to celebrate this accomplishment with me and he is nowhere to be found.

“He’ll be here. Rafe promised.” I clear my throat, “He knows how important this is to me.”

Rai gave me a doubtful look and I know that I couldn’t convince her anymore than I could convince myself. The engagement ring that bore my finger instantly weighed a ton.

Glancing down at the large diamond that once meant the promise of everything, stared back at me as nothing more than a simple accessory.

Rafe had proposed and foolishly I believed that it would save us so I said yes.

I stayed and time and time again, the disappointment slowly began to etch away at the childish hope I tried to cling onto until only a dull ache remained.

“Don’t you look lovely?” Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I let out a sheepish laugh as I take in Kiara’s parents. 

“Thank you guys so much for coming.” The words ring true but I couldn’t help but feel like I was underwater. My focus is shot and I find myself hardly listening with my eyes darting to the front door every minute or so, desperate to see the man I used to think would never stop loving me. 

I float around the room, committed to being a gracious host, because I would not let him take this from me too. Not when he’s taken everything else already. This is the only piece left of me. 

My cheeks hurt two hours later from all the fake smiles and my throat burns from the feigned laughing. The sound of my own voice makes me wince. 

In those two hours, I felt my confidence slowly get chipped piece by piece as everyone questioned where my fiancé was. And for a moment, I hated him. I truly hated him because even this small piece of heaven I made for myself is tied into him. 

Honey, I need to run some numbers with Rafe. Where is he hiding? 

Where is the biggest investor? Surely, he’s here, right?

I haven't seen Mr. Cameron. Has he stepped out? 

With which I responded,” Work emergency, you know how it is. He’s nothing if not committed.” Considering most of these possible donors run their own large companies, they completely understand but it’s their partners reactions that seem to leave me stunned. 

Each had a warm look of understanding dancing in their eyes as I’m sure they’ve used the same excuse time and time again.

I can only take so much. So I excuse myself and glance at the small gold heart shaped watch on my delicate wrist and take note of the time.

There was only 30 minutes left and I haven't gotten so much as a text from him. 

A pit began to form where my stomach used to be as I realized once more that he wasn’t coming. As I stood in a packed room, filled with a flurry of activity, surrounded by people, I’ve never felt more alone.

Then my eyes connect with Mrs. Dune, the wife of a finance guru that works alongside Rafe. She was much older than I, having been with her husband for 30 years but she looked even older. 

It’s almost as though she can read my thoughts, because she sends me a sad smile as she lets her eyes go to where her husband stands talking to other donors. I haven't seen him talk to her the whole night, instead she’s been standing at his side saying nothing. 

I take an uneven breath and my eyes widen in realization. Was this what I had to look forward to? A life sentence of loneliness vacant of any warmth and attention? 

Swallowing hard, I force my eyes away and stare at the door. Begging whoever will listen to please, this once, let me be wrong. I’m so in my thoughts that I’m startled when a soft hand lands on my arm.

“You get used to it. Eventually, you’ll feel nothing.” Mrs. Dune says quietly, her eyes moving back to her husband, with a look I can only describe as longing. 

That’s the thing. I don't want to get used to it. This isn’t how I want to be loved.

“What you’ve accomplished is amazing. Don’t let him take that away from you.” Was her parting words and she left, not sparing her husband another glance. 

When I turn to see if he noticed she left, he’s still engaged in conversations and doesn’t spare her a glance. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. This is Amy Park.” Rai looks ecstatic as she introduces me to the stunning tall woman next to her. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Park.” The words come out on instinct.

“I wanted to discuss how open you would be to expanding shelters nationwide?”

And for the first time in awhile, a real smile graces my face as I answer her question. 

_____________________

The first thing I notice when I pull into our driveway is the plethora of cars that fill it. The second thing I pick up on is familiar vibrations of music with each step I take along our pathway. 

My front door is wide open as people come in and out, clearly under the influence of something and my chest constricts. 

This is what he’s been doing? This was more important than me? 

Clutching my keys tightly, I welcome the familiar biting against my skin. I recognize many of the faces, most of them having gone to school with Rafe. 

If it was any other night, I would have joined them. We were only 22 and yet have lived what seems to be a hundred lives. But, this is different. He’s different. 

Climbing up the staircase, I head to the balcony where I hear a familiar boast of laughter. 

I cleared my throat. “What’s so funny?”

Heads snap in my direction but my eyes are only on one. One that currently has a short black haired girl nearly in his lap. I recognize her as a bartender at one of the local grills/bars we frequent. 

“Don’t you look gorgeous-“ Topper attempts to run interference, but it’s too late. I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve already seen everything I needed too. 

His body is positioned slightly in front of them as if I was going to body slam them. I might actually. 

“Hey, wait! How did the donor dinner go?” Topper's eyes dart to Rafe’s. “That was tonight right?”

I see the moment everything clicks. His eyes rake down from my newly styled hair to the louboutins in my feet. Everything I wore from the jewelry on my body to the shoes on my feet he bought me, and I’ve never felt more sick.

Rafe clenches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed.

“Get out of my way, Topper.”

He throws a worried glance to Rafe. “I think maybe-“

“Top, give us a second.” Rafe mutters tensely. He keeps his hard set gaze on me, drilling into me, almost as though he’s daring me to move. 

Kelce stands up giving me an apologetic look. “Rafe, man, there’s a bunch of people here.”

I force myself to look away. 

“Not right now, Kells.” 

He wasn’t wrong. This house was full of people, but the only difference being that none of them matter. Not to me and not to Rafe. 

Steady. Keep steady and just breathe. 

“So what should I do-“

I look at him. Me or them? It was unsaid but he knew what I was asking him. 

“Back the fuck off and give me a fucking second with my girl.” Rafe barks out, running a rough hand through the short cropped strands that brush against his forehead. 

Both hold their hands up in mock surrender before shuffling off to the side. The girl doesn’t get up. 

Topper coughs. “Sophia.” 

Her eyes take me in with clear distaste. Her hand is still dangerously close to Rafe’s waistband. I raise a single eyebrow giving her one last opportunity to move. 

She doesn’t. Not when Kelce calls out for her either.

Sophia made her bed. Setting my bag down, I take three big steps before I’m roughly shoving her off the couch sending her sprawling on the floor. 

Rafe let’s out a curse but makes no move to help her. At least he’s not stupid.

“Get out.” The words leave no room for negotiation.

The glare she sends me is filled with ice. “I was invited.”

Kelce lets out a groan before whispering,”Is she serious?”

The fake smile I’ve perfected over the years decorated my face as I bent down to her height on the floor. 

Flashing my engagement ring in her face. “Get out of my fucking house.”

That seems to shut her up and I watch with narrowed eyes as she struts away, Topper and Kelce in tow.

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears while my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I turn around slowly to face my damnation. 

My heels click against the marble floor and with each step I take, the more the ache in my chest grows. Marching up to Rafe, I grab his chin and force him to look at me. Those familiar glacial blue eyes are red. His pupils are blown wide and my chest cracks wide open. 

He’s high. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

This is what he wanted to do instead of being there for me. Instead of supporting me. Instead of loving me. 

Dying would be less painful.

 I stare directly into those eyes, searching for an answer, wondering when the love he felt for me slowly became indifference.

I’d almost rather there be a mistress rather than this cold indifference.

“Did you have fun at least?” My words are soft but the intention is anything but. 

He says nothing. Instead Rafe studies me like I’m a wounded animal. 

Dark. Beautiful. Cruel. 

Those are the words I’d use to describe the man in front of me. The gaze that once felt like a soft caress on my skin now felt clinical. 

“It seems like you’re having fun.” I quip, flicking the small bag filled with familiar white powder. 

I thought I could fix him. I will not make that mistake again.

“I completely forgot-“

“How?” I ask. 

His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure me out. “Work got insanely busy. You know how it is. Even if I own the place, I’m young and the older guys don’t respect me.”

“It was in your work calendar.” 

“No, it wasn’t-“

“It was also on your personal calendar and our joint one. I had your assistant send you a reminder email. So my question is how?” My voice wobbled and it was only by a small miracle that I didn’t throw something in his face. “How did you forget the only thing I’ve asked you for?” 

Something flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t intentional. It slipped my mind.”

“Something I worked so hard to accomplish just slipped your mind?” Exhaustion has finally got the better of me and I finally let him see just how much he’s managed to chip away. 

“I should have been there for you and I’m so sorry,” His throat flexed a hard swallow. “But there will be other dinners.” 

The dull ache in my chest thrummed harder. Rafe was brushing this off, just like he always did. My skin flushed. 

At my silence, he braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tracking my every move. “I feel like you’re not understanding me.”

“No, I understand you just fine. It just wasn’t important enough for you.”

He stilled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Of course it wasn’t what he meant but he’s managed to make me feel so insignificant. So small. 

“I know that you’ve canceled most of our dates for work. Even an anniversary once. I know that you missed the grand opening of the shelter that I spent a year and half planning.” I force the words out, each breath I take feeling like needles. “I asked for this one thing, Rafe and you couldn’t even give me that.” 

“What about everything I have given you? This house, the car you drive in, the clothes on your back, the boat?”

It’s like I’m staring at 16 year old Rafe again. To him, material things were the equivalent to love. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I find that I was much happier when I had little to nothing, than I am now, sitting here with everything, in my gown and jewels. 

“I didn't ask for any of those things.” By the stubborn gleam in his eyes, I knew he was going to fight me on everything. 

Lately, his tactic was always combative and it was easier to give in or to not say anything at all. 

 “No, but you took them all the same. I fucked up, I get that. I know what this shelter means to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t even have it if it weren’t for me.”

A familiar buzzing filled my ears. His words were ugly but they weren’t a lie. Even my project was his. I had nothing of my own.

I wonder how many other people came to the same revelation. Maybe that’s why so many of them asked where he was? Because this accomplishment wasn’t mine, no clearly it was his.

There is not enough room in my chest for the ache he caused. 

Words can’t seem to make it to my lips. I think my brain has finally broken and realizes that no words I say will get him to change. 

Smoothing out my dress, I stand on shaky legs before kicking off my heels. He can keep them. With that, I leave him out on the porch and make a beeline towards our his room. 

Opening the closet doors, I reach for the suitcase before setting it on the bed. I wasn’t going to be like Mrs. Dune and waste away beside a man that used to love me, hoping that one day he will once more. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are hard and low. 

Rafe stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is brewing with several emotions I can't quite place. 

It was funny. I haven't seen this much emotion from him in months.

I ignore him and toss some clothes from my dresser into the open suitcase, making sure to grab only the clothes I needed.

I slowly take off each piece of jewelry and set it on my vanity. He can keep everything he so gloriously mentioned he bought. 

“You loved me once.” I state, tilting my head to the side. I rake over every detail of his face, knowing I’ll never forget it. 

I loved him once too. 

His face morphed to one of confusion before disbelief. “I still love you. That’s never changed.” 

I shake my head. “Yes, it has.”

Rafe stalks towards me, his hand reaching to burl around my neck while the other pulls me to him by my waist. Familiar cologne fills my lungs and I count to ten mentally. It was the same cologne I bought him when we first started dating. 

“I work too much, I know. That’s my fault and I’ll cut back. I’ll be home more and we can spend time together. I’ll do better.” Taking my chin between two fingers, he forces my eyes to his. I see the sincerity in his eyes but I know how this goes. 

The same way it’s gone the last two times. He’ll beg me to stay, promise to change, and things will be good for a month before he slowly starts missing dates or canceling trips we’ve planned months before. Then the cycle repeats. 

“No.” It was time to love myself. Since he clearly couldn’t do it. I will not allow myself to get lost in him again. 

“Baby, just wait. Will you wait-“ He huffs as I try to move around him. No such success as his towering body has me moving back and suddenly I’m caged in by his arms. “Just give me a second, okay?”

“I’ve given you years. I won’t give you another second.” 

“Talk to me.” His voice breaks. “Please just talk to me.”

Longing filled my body. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for months come so easily to him, but only when I already have one foot out the door.

 “I’m alone.” The words come out strangled. “ I’m alone in this. I have been for a long time.”

“What do you mean? Baby, I’m right here.” Rafe’s gripping onto me tighter, almost like he’s ensuring I don’t leave. “I’m right here.”

“You're never here. That’s exactly my point.” 

Rafe’s eyes widen before he shakes his head wildly, staring at me like I’m speaking another language. “That’s not true-“

“What’s today?”

“What?” 

“What’s today?” I repeat, my eyes never leaving his. I want to see every emotion that storms in his eyes, just to remind myself that he is capable of emotion after all. 

“Friday.” 

I smile at him sadly. Exactly my point. “I haven't seen you since Tuesday.” 

“No, that can’t be right. I was with you when we had lunch with-“ He breaks off, reaching for his phone in his pocket. I watch as he pulls up his calendar, an action that mortifies me, and confirms our scheduled date.

 “Tuesday.” He whispers, shocked even. 

I wasn’t. Rafe had to check his calendar to confirm that last time he’s seen his fiancé. 

“You used to come bring me lunch. If you were more than a couple hours, you always found your way to me or gave me a call that you’ll be late.” I shrugged, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. “Now, I don’t think I’d get a call if you were in the hospital.”

The buzzing in my ears intensifies.

 “You didn’t tell me any of this. None of how you were feeling and you're ready to walk out the door without so much as an argument.” A spark of my old Rafe appears as frustration dances across his face.

“I should have-“

“You’re giving up.” He states, shaking his head in anger. 

Maybe I was. “I’m tired of fighting for us. You gave up a long time ago.” 

Large hands curl around my cheeks, pulling me towards his face. Rafe rests his forehead on mine, his piercing blue eyes darting across my face in panic. 

“I love you. I love you.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but we feel like strangers now. The words don’t feel like they used to. “You know I love you.”

 “This isn’t how I want to be loved, Rafe. I see you every couple days, the only time we’re ever together is when we have sex.” We lost sight of how we once were. The only thing that remained good between us was sex. 

That alone isn’t healthy. He goes to open his mouth but I cut him off.

“We never talk and when we do, you don’t even listen to me. Your brain is always somewhere else.” 

“I’m in a relationship with a ghost. I’m not letting you suck the life out of me anymore.” My eyes catch the sparkling ring that once brought me such happiness. Now, it simply feels like a ball and chain. 

Before I can convince myself otherwise, I start to tug it off my finger when Rafe truly begins to panic. 

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” I try to hand it to him but Rafe jolts back like he’s been burned. The look he gives my empty hand is nothing short of destroyed.

I think I’m going to throw up. His words are laced with raw grief that makes it hard for me to breathe.

“Put it back on.” I hear the slight tremble in his voice.

“No.” My lips wobble. 

“Please put it back on because if you don’t that means we’re over. That’s not us. We aren’t supposed to end.”

“Rafe, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“You’re ripping my fucking heart out of my chest. This isn’t anywhere near hard, it’s excruciating.” Rafe’s hand is notably shaking, but he tries to hide it by clenching and unclenching his palms. 

“Welcome to the last year of my life.” The words are brutal but he needs to hear them. 

“You promised me we’d never end.” 

“You promised to change. I guess we both lied.”

Rafe raises his voice, his arms thrown up in the air in clear distress, “How can you just stand there?”

It was a miracle I haven’t collapsed on my shaky legs yet. The adrenaline pumping though my veins was the only thing getting me through this torture. “Rafe, stop it.”

“You talk about indifference?” Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head up at the ceiling. “Who’s heartless now, baby?”

“You don’t get to put this on me. I’ve given you years of my life, showered you with nothing but love and support. I asked for one night, one fucking night, in your busy schedule and you didn’t bother to show up, or send a simple text.” I intake a sharp breath, pushing the hair out of my face with a shaky hand. “Instead, you threw a party in our home and got high.”

I point a finger at his chest, staring at him with open heartbreak. “I needed you,” The tightness in my chest finally pops as I choke on a loud sob, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”

“I lost sight of what’s important to me. I’m just trying to give you everything-” I cut him off. 

Grabbing the clothes I haphazardly tossed in the suitcase, ”You want this? Take it,” I shove them into his chest, “Take all of it. I don’t want it. I’d give this all away in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back.”

I meant every word. I wanted my best friend back, the person I confided in and depended on. I wanted our late nights back watching trashy reality TV. We used to sit in the bathtub together basking in each other's company. Went on walks along the beach or took the boat out for hours, fucking on the deck, not caring that anyone could see. 

It used to be simple. He loved me and I loved him. 

“I’m angry, baby.I’m so damn angry all the time. At my fucking dad for always having these impossible expections. Then he goes and dies, leaving me without a clue on how to manage everything.” Rafe sags against the wall, exhaustion marring his features, his blue eyes pleading for me to understand. “I feel like I’m drowning all the time.”

I had no idea this was how he was feeling. But, he never let me in. “You could have told me, we’re supposed to be partners in this. You asked me to marry you!”

I think deep down I know that he felt me slipping through his fingers at one point. He could see clearly how unhappy I’ve become and that’s why he proposed. And maybe just like him, I thought the proposal could fix us. This proposal was being manipulated on both ends, it was doomed from the start.

You can’t fix what’s already broken. 

“My head has basically been a war zone and I’m losing. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know, when I walk through that door,” he points to our bedroom door, “I’m going to find you in our bed. Every. Single. Night.” 

“I can’t let the ugly touch you.” My heart splits into two at his words. Words I know feel like acid leaving his mouth. “You’re the only thing I have left.”

“Then you should have taken better care of me. You should have let me take care of you.” 

“Fuck,” He screams, bending down and swiping the lamp clean of the nightstand. The lamp goes flying into the wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces and my eyes are drawn to them. I can’t help but think it reminds me of us.

Dragging my eyes back to his, I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. Seeing him in pain has never brought me joy, but this was brutal. His eyes shined with unmistakable tears, realizing the strength of my resolve. 

There was no going back this time. There was no trying again. I didn’t have another try in me. 

I grip onto the fabric of my dress moving towards him, my heart pounding out of my chest. He moves instantly, holding out his hand to guide me over the shattered lamp. Why couldn’t he be like this months ago?

Why did he let it get this bad? Why couldn’t he love me?

Now, standing in front of him, I let myself one deep breath, basking in the comforting smell of him. A large hand curls around my neck, his grip strong and firm, demanding my attention. His blue eyes are daunting and so intense, I find myself fighting the urge to look away.

“I’m going to get you back.”

”Take it, Rafe.” I whisper, uncurling his limp hand, “Take it. It doesn’t mean what I want it to.”

Tears blur my vision as I fumble with the ring he refuses to take.

 Rafe shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly. “There’s no point in taking it off if it’s gonna go right back there in a couple weeks. ”

I can’t help but smile at the determination in his voice. He sounds like the old Rafe and for a second I see a glimmer of who he used to be.

 He had me. Then he lost me. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

“If spending the next few months without you means that I get to spend a lifetime with you, I can manage. I’ll do whatever I have to.  But don’t think for a second that there is anyone else on this entire fucking planet meant for you.”

That’s how I want to be loved. Too little too late.

I drop the ring.

[highvern]

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: she/her pronouns, Drug use, alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm

Length: ~24k

Note: God this was such a doozy. I started it on December 1st and barely finished it this morning. Based on Happy Place by Emily Henry (if you like romcoms I highly recommend all her books) and most cheesy Christmas movies (Exmas). Did I project my middle child syndrome onto fellow middle child Wooyoung? Maybe! BUT why write if not to explore your own trauma lmao

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy or don’t! Merry Christmas! MWAH!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

June 27th

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?” 

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before your vocal cords seize.

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door, unaware that several whip around to look at the man left sitting behind you.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December 7th

Wooyoung

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening.

The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday; paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite.” His mom laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that.

He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there.” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got her number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed.

Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with her response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm. 

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!” 

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but she’s right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” Y/N asks after a pregnant pause.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from her end along with a few curse words sounding far away before she continues. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“I can tell them your busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No,” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down her face, fingers massaging her temples the same way she always did when his shenanigans got them in trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so–”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for her to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early 

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between them. Eight years of dating but now she’s a stranger. The last text messages arranging for their mutual friend Lisa to pick up a box of her stuff from his apartment. 

Six months and he didn’t know if she kept her hair the same way or what new book she was obsessing over in her sparse free time; if her neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one. 

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door. 

He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit. 

Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since Y/N would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS? 

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket 

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees she’s flying out of New York, not Boston. Why isn’t she flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and she wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless she had a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. She lives here, in New York. She’s been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long has she been here? Where is she working? What neighborhood is she in? Why didn’t he know she moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her. 

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face.

“This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of, “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them till he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

Y/N

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, you see Hongjoong watching you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…” 

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake? 

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked?

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child.” He clicks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chestpiece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper.” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient. 

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

Wooyoung checked his phone after finishing pick up duty, one of several over the next month as a bargain to keep his job.

She’d ignored him. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. She was a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when they’d met at some dive and realized they shared a behavioral psych class. Y/N always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew she’d been in the city.

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season. 

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you wanna carpool?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You’d never been one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

December 21st

Wooyoung

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. When Wooyoung flew home for Bibi’s birthday in April, she decided to turn her inquiry towards him and Y/N. 

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

Security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

“Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teachers salary. A few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

 “No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face, before speaking with a perfect customer service smile. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you.” You say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does in fact exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several.

The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar. 

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, please.” You answer, handing over your credit card.

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart. The second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic.

In her usual flying outfit, Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend stands twenty feet away every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. The silver carry-on she bought in the airport last time they visited his family at her side.

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

Better he sees her for the first time since their break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, she can kill him multiple times over with her eyes, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if she hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

Wonderful.

Y/N actively avoids looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for their flight. But she digs her nose into her phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is her best friend. If he wakes up to Lisa in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three. Flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as she struts down the hall without a glance back. 

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when Wooyoung shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t spot Y/N amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle. 

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Y/N

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. And two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks, with a loud, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” The man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you, sorry!”

Wooyoung just stares blankly. If habit and history were to repeat itself, Wooyoung carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left. 

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words..

“Y/N,” he tries again.

In your periphery, you can see Wooyoung folding over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you. 

“What?” You snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patient’s brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core. 

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land.

The seatbelt sign chimes off, and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it. 

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear, having offered to trade seats with either of you so you didn’t have to talk across him. You apologize once Wooyoung is out of earshot, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while. The stranger's name is Jay, and he laughs at the irony.

“That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.” 

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you. 

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least act cordial?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you.

“Fine.” You sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the buses to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know.” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work, and the nerves of seeing Wooyoung so soon after such a fresh break up. 

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up. 

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” She cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Smiling at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can throw it closed.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate. 

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, even the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. So if you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you doze along with her son. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

Wooyoung

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing the firm body of Y/N dozing behind him. She shrugs his hand off her thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of her sweater.

“Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.” His mom announces as she opens her door.

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were two college students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snowglobe. 

Another yawn before braving the inevitable blast of chilly air, Wooyoung spots Y/N in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, crowding her away from the truck as she insists on helping them carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and Y/N’s carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” Y/N calls across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as she struggles with her suitcase.

“I can see that.” His dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house to reach them.

His dad lifts her larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while Y/N balances her tote bag and his carryon. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight as they climb the staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly. 

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time they shared the quilt covered bed of his childhood room. How the last trip here had been the last time Y/N slept in his arms, the last time he laid her bare beneath him. Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it happened.

Sharing the tiny mattress could only mean trouble for the delicate truce Wooyoung had made with her in the airport.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in her own suitcase, Y/N scoffs at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” Y/N says as she grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva” Wooyoung whines after her, rebuttal bouncing off the piece of wood separating them. 

When Y/N returns from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. She leaves the day after Christmas and after he returns to the city he can tell his family they decided to part ways.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity.

He finds her balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space behind her for him to sink into. Neither says anything as the minutes tick by, both refusing to fall asleep despite the fatigue swirling over them attempting to find root. Back to back, Wooyoung stares at the wall as he tries not to listen to the gentle whoosh of Y/N breath.

December 22nd

Y/N

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone. 

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?” 

“This is fine.” You say, raising your mug.

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment with Y/N for those four years she was in medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to Y/N’s fingers brushing his hair like she always did when they’d been together, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of her short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as her heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, she’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all these months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as Y/N sits at the counter, cradling a mug of steaming coffee. If Wooyoung had to bet, the ceramic mug probably contained more sugar and milk than anything.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to Y/N nonetheless, resting his cheek on her shoulder, feeling her startle at the contact. 

Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in her sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget their lying to everyone in the gentle passes of her cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

 “Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.” His mom calls over her shoulder, busy with the pan heating in the flames of the stove.

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” Y/N mumbles for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met Y/N, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available. But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of the girl he had not so casually started dating fall semester of senior year, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met Y/N at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend. 

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung had survived it, their older brother had survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling.

And the second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of Y/N’s overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste.

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother.” His mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” Y/N snaps, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

Y/N

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud. 

You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on arm as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message.

“Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

—

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jung’s you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs. 

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothings come up yet.” 

“That sucks.” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the  It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable. 

A light tap at the door startles you from the nose dive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood.

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed as you lean against.

“I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

 “Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” You whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

“Oh?” 

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess–”

But Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all.

Wooyoung

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. Perhaps he should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were completely hypothetical; but marriage had almost been a reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, and him and Y/N.

The board begins to crowd with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quips, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her. 

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with Y/N before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an I and every other letter I need for QUILTING on a double word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom 96 points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with Y/N in victory. Their cheeks squish together, matching bright tipsy grins pulled across their lips. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

Y/N doesn’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made her. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of her chair while she settles into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of her head, relaxing firm pressure of her body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

December 23rd

Y/N

In the cool toned light of the snowy dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that serepate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet moan fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your panties.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong. So so so wrong. To fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your stuttered breath and pounding heart.

But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” You groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress, “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow. 

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon, called by the coffee you’ve begun brewing. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family. 

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom.Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows she pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard the whimper she tried to silence, felt her press her legs together the way she did when she was wet and needed his help.

Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch her to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of their charade Wooyoung needed less complications, not more.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of them together from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of his ex-girlfriend in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down her nose as she sits in his lap. And his personal favorite, Y/N on her knees, eyes watering as her swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of her throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung watches his cum sink down the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

—

As Wooyoung descends to the living room, he spots his dad and his brothers watching a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time? 

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

Y/N

The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights of the nail salon. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you. 

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her. 

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast.

“Yeah?” 

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day.” You laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

That we aren’t together. You finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things it was all for naught. 

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year.

“I think being scared means you care. And you can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” You whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back, “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

—

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch. 

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest. 

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teething with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain but you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the packages on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner.

The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed you shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly fucked him in his childhood bed. 

Three more days. You think, shivering lessening as steam billows around you. 

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

Wooyoung

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of Y/N curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles her face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world she’s lost in. 

Wooyoung aches to wake her up with innocent kisses as he holds her to his chest, fingers ironing out the wrinkles of her forehead as she breaches the surface of sleep. To smile at her whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. Even if it kills him not to touch her like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject her to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling Y/N into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding her shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

She responds with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over her head to hideaway.

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.” 

“Youngie, it’s cold.” Y/N protests as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from her iron grip.

“I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, she blinks against the overhead light. “I’m up!” 

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

Y/N mutters empty threats under her breath the entire way to the kitchen, so close she’s cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits. 

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. Y/N demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year she entered the competition; Mia taking her place the next year in Y/N’s absence. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright,” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery.

But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches Y/N attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. Their half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What she doesn’t know is that those are her gumdrops and his are stashed under the table since they sat down.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” Y/N asks, confused by the horrendous green and red abomination.

“See, you get it!” 

Shaking her head, Y/N points to her own monstrosity. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s “Willy Wonka.”

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard.

Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year. 

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match.

Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition. 

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please.” His dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is Y/N is leaving the same door he is, and that a sprig of green leaves sit just above their heads.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own. 

If they were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop her into his arms and make an entire production of giving her a short peck on the cheek, his parents were watching after all, while Y/N laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into her eyes, barely missing the nod as she leaves a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the brief contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize he watches her walk away until she’s turning a corner and is out of sight. 

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel. 

Y/N

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! You think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

You’d spent the rest of the night sweaty and flushed, stuttering like an idiot because of a G-rated kiss with your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud. 

What was wrong with you? 

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable. 

And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more. 

The foaming residue of toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter.

His tiny room is notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

—

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed. 

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss? 

But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

December 24th

Wooyoung

Christmas eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night sleep on the freezing unforgiving floor can dull his excitement. 

He’d risen early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space. Y/N slept soundly, back turned away from him as he evaded her successfully.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize to her. She’d basically avoided him after they got caught under the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite for her to do so. Technically, she kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth.

Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky.

His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving. 

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him. 

“Alright.” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

Y/N

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He looks at you for help, but you offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in. 

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market.

Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. The youngest was a sweet kid; perhaps he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager after all. To hear he’s been out right rude and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

—

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. 

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep. 

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college.” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

“No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing.” You chuckle.

“They just stare at me. It’s creepy.” 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.” 

Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school.”

“Oh?”

“And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

“I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league.” Kyungmin sighs.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod, “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungo calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders.

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect.” He calls back, folding in half to step on the roof.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof.

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what. Wooyoung’s hair is a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him. 

You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it. 

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

You feel Wooyoung’s breath caress the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“What are you guys doing out here?” He whispers.

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky. 

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while. 

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. Hooking your pointer finger around his, Wooyoung sighs next to you before settling. 

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Wooyoung

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look Y/N in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted her on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was her own family; how he wanted to cry when her fingers circled his own. 

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between Y/N’s spread legs. 

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are. 

Resting his cheek against Y/N’s knee, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch her. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, Wooyoung is too weak to stop himself. And considering the way she keeps staring at him every time she thinks he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think Y/N would want him to stop either. 

—

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind Y/N.

They get ready for bed in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for her to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds her in a nest on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.” She bites, voice fragile.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.” 

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out her scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep next to her on the floor if she continues to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, Y/N was a menace. She’d cave eventually when her hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to her. His entire left side burns in her heat, acutely aware of every shift of her weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from their kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

When Y/N stops twitching beneath the covers behind him, breath even and shallow, Wooyoung finally follows her into sleep.

December 25th

Wooyoung

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. Wooyoung hears the first crash slide under the crack beneath his door, an ice bath to his system.

He’s still on the floor, a foot between him and Y/N. 

“Get up.” Wooyoung shakes her, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

She groans in the morning light, eyes crusted as she looks for the disturbance.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall. Much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!” 

Y/N tackles him into the pillows. Both attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi standing in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” His grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Dual sighs of relief leave their lips, Y/N rising to stalk to the bathroom without looking back.

Y/N

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store. 

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia. 

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them.” She whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right. 

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly. 

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the hoards of the city in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you.” She whispers, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well. 

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“But I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Slipping the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, patting your back comfortingly; clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears marring your cheeks with soft swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself.

Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by. 

Wooyoung

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make Y/N so upset but his mom keeps squeezing her shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in her direction. The new necklace circling her neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask. 

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines Y/N into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off her in waves next to him. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before she had to take her MCAT or open exam results. When the screen fades to black, Y/N is up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following her up, Wooyoung finds her perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between her collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his veins all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, Y/N hands him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked Y/N to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been for her. To secretly say goodbye to his family and their relationship after she was already working through it on her own. He should have known she was bottling it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” She asks, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” She bites, glazed eyes blazing as she rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” her voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. Is that what she was planning to tell him when he interrupted her? 

“What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of their mess, Y/N falls back onto the bed.“It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. And Wooyoung gathers the courage to tell her the truth.

“I was planning to propose.” He can see her head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he sees her face so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead as he speaks. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything. I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that.” She objects, shaking her head. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back.”

“Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed and I ddin’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

“I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” Y/N fumes, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the stifling steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped. 

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down. 

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years. 

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you. 

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you.

As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new. 

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center. 

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place? 

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin.

It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind through the trees. Clenching around Wooyoung harshly, the tell tale hitch in his breath signals the beginning of his end. 

But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear, “forever.”

December 26th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

December 29th

Wooyoung

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think Y/N wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot they’re barely more than strangers after months of silence, how they still fit together so perfectly. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without her. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text her something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having her next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

“When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint Y/N too.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, and using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

“You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. I’ll we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy sweetie.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“Well I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.”

“Yeah well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

December 30th

Wooyoung

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. And each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?” 

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking.“So what do I do?”

December 31st

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of Y/N’s full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different?

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

And the line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with Y/N’s best friend.

The vinyl table top shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration. 

“She’s working at NewYork-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.” 

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake him off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward. 

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friend’s don’t trust him not to hurt Y/N anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t,”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before Lisa can force him.

But for now, he focuses on getting Y/N to listen to his apology.

January 1st

Y/N

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” You call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes. 

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor.

You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came. 

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes.

–W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed. 

January 3rd

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s memorized. The NYT mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg jitters aggressively. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that she isn’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside. 

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the tiny drop of hope still clinging to his heart. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine Wooyoung watches as the clock hits nine. 

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been him and Y/N, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked as they trapeze through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Her hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring her face as it fogs in the cool air. But she’s here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. She’s here. She’s here and she’s looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed her and how breaking up with her was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that she’s in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing she’s ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells her how he truly feels, she’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic. 

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” she pauses, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, she nods at him. “That’s a start.” 

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of her. Y/N never made him feel less than. The only person in their relationship who thought he wasn’t good enough for her was him and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt. 

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from Y/N’s face. Her beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Her voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug them into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get them out.

Y/N

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” You yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders. 

“I missed you.” You whisper into the delicate kiss you land on his lips.

“I love you.” Wooyoung whispers back, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees as children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the greening grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where they both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither likes to talk about. Wooyoung woke Y/N with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find, basking in the knowledge today he’d finally ask the question hanging from the tip of his tongue since this time last year.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures her face from view as Y/N rests her head in his lap. Wooyoung tries not to check his pocket for the millionth time this afternoon, ensuring the little velvet box is still there. He isn’t worried she’ll say no. But the phantom fear from the last time he planned to ask creeps up no matter how many affirmations he silently repeats in his head. But when she looks up at him, crinkled eyes visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding her smile, Wooyoung forgets all his worries.

Plucking the book from her grasp, he carefully marks her place before setting it down beside her hip. Wooyoung folds in half to silence her protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming when she gives in all too easily. 

“I was reading that.” She mumbles as they separate.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, she presses another peck to his mouth before answering.“Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Y/N smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights.

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers her up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it,  me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech. He drops it a third time when Y/N tackles him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from their lips and into the field where they lay. 

“Yes!” She squeals into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all their friends, he subconsciously holds Y/N’s hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses her knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Once inside the doorway of her apartment, Wooyoung crowds Y/N against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on her ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of her sundress off her shoulder so his tongue etch her collarbone from dip of her throat where the locket he gave her for their first Christmas together rests to under her ear. 

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” He asks, nipping against the sensitive skin she sighs, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between her parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr.Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Youngie.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at her reaction, rocking again just to hear her moan his name once more. 

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” she huffs, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites, teeth raking against the strained muscle raising from the side of her neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify her question with an answer other than sprinting to the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters

A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!

Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.

3.6k words

"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop. 

"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile. 

A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.

As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.

"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."

I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will. 

"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.

As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.

"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"

She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.

I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.

I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"

He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."

He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."

Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."

As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.

"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.

"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.

"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.

Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."

I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."

Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.

"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."

Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.

Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers. 

I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.

I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door. 

I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him. 

"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.

Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.

"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."

He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.

"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug. 

Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"

I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now. 

"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us. 

"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.

"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.

"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence. 

"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously. 

Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."

He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.

"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."

I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it. 

"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force." 

"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely. 

"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile. 

Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.

"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."

Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"

We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50. 

"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up. 

I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."

He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"

I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question. 

"Why?" I said with a stern face. 

Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."

He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"

I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed. 

"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way? 

I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?" 

Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.

"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.

Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."

He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate. 

"Fine." I said with a thin smile.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."

"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"

He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."

Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."

He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. 

I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment. 

I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door. 

That must be Logan. 

I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying. 

"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch. 

I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off. 

As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water. 

"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly. 

He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water. 

"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.

As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed

I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response. 

"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room. 

He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night. 

"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone. 

Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart

[mentallyunstablequeen101]

Pjo/ Solangelo Rec list

Hi it’s finally done there are a few things I want to go over first tho

please read this before starting

My acount on Ao3 is strawberryfrizz_11 you might see some comments but i dont post anything

PLEASE READ WARNINGS THIS IS MOSTLY Ao3 I would hate for you reading something you don’t want to please be safe

The order is in a order that makes sense in my head so it might be strange idk. if a link isn’t working please copy and paste it if it’s still not working PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT

These are not mine whatsoever please go show these amazing writers the appreciation they deserve

These are absolutely my all time favs and I wanna open for you guys to so PLEASE SEND LINKS TO ADD TO THIS IN MY DMS OR ASKS

Again if ANY information is wrong or you want your work taken down please let me know 🙏🏻🙏🏻

I’m bad a summeries so it kinda turned into commentary and are extremely short.

Also I would love to here which one is your fav please leva it in the comments

If your work is on here please let me know I wanna Follow all these amazing writers!

Enough with the chat this took like 1 month to finish because I had it All thrown in the notes app and I did this all on my phone 😅😅 but it’s here enjoy

Royalty

there's something wretched about this (something so precious about this)

Nico never wanted to be king but maybe it’s not that bad

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778396/chapters/59916469

He’s not my Prince Charming

Royalty AU Where Nico and Will are the sons of two powerful kings and are being forced to get married.

Nico hates the idea but quickly finds the Prince Charming

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309845/chapters/

The crown of Edom -Solangelo Au

Nico is a prince and falls for his trainer who is strict but can be a huge softy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34552804/chapters/86007100

Fire meet gasoline

*user only*

Nico and Will have their partners but meet once again after breaking up on a double date but quickly realize they never got over each other cheating occurs but it’s ok because it’s Solangelo and Will WAS dating Paulo.

https://archiveofourowni.org/works/8576824/chapters/19664947#workskin

I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know

Nico moves out and finds himself falling HARD for his neighbor little does he know it’s mutal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35877964/chapters/89460193

I lost my way, but now I’m home

Nico and Will live in a small town in Texas but still haven’t confessed while the whole twin already ships it ( you gotta read the hazel pov too it’s part of the series)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53767585

Sequel/Hazels pov

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55531477/chapters/140929324#workskin

Crossover

I walk the line

What happens when Nico and Will get back from Tartarus especially when Norse demigods show up

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52519459/chapters/132856015

Taking the BAG

What happens when Kane chronicles characters meet Greek demigods?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43075956/chapters/142355329#workskin

Famous AU

So American

Will is a singer who notices Nico one night who is an actor they instantly notice each other

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56862667

Dawn breaks into the midnight hue ( it’s been a long night)

Will is a model and Nico is a designer they work together and eventually get together

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56570803p

Making shades of purple out of reds and blues

Artist Nico and Will is dragged there by his family

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411147

Lights camera…

Nico is an actor who sees a cute guy working on his set let’s just say the feeling is mutual

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49357945/chapters/124554625

Rumor has it

Nico is a streamer and Will is a roommate well not for long

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50161711/chapters/134355607#workskin

Can i handle the seasons of my life?

Will is famous and nico is his new driver what happens when they both fall for eachother?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35147332

Getting together/ fluff

Like jiggly puff?

Will never sings for some reason Nico wonders why

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39568554

Would you wait for me as long as I long you?

Nico still isn’t used to call Will his boyfriend and when he is Will is a little broken 5+1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38495053

Cant wait to be yours

When Will proposes to nico they start planning their wedding what happens when they reject heras help? Chaos.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37119085/chapters/92612722#workskin

Soft and swift

*user only*

They have there first kiss but it was accidental and Nico freaks out to Jason

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876857

I trust you as my eyes

Nico misses Will but Nico doesn’t know will had glasses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141693

Take on me

Jason percy and nico are listening to a abba band in a bar, nico hates it. They need a guitarist what could possibly go wrong

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879497/chapters/70845150

Seuqels

2 Lay your love

Will sings thier song jason teases nico to hell

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202022

3The mixtapes

3 times will made nico mixtapes and gave them to him

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32025289/chapters/79326568

4 Pretty baby

What happenss when two competitive people date and both have bands? They have a a sing off

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34803397

5 Distant early warning

Its christmas and they are meeting up at nico's family house what could happend?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44097259

All was well

Nico finds out about Harry Potter and warning: he fell for it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451014

I’ll make a cup of coffee for your head

Two times Nico and Will got sick and they take care of each other

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52784554

Percy Jackson Solangelo requests

Two one shots

Nico proposed to Will

Confessions

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53904223/chapters/136442017

Golem and her preciouss

What happens when will comes home from work tired only to find out Nico has two cats waiting for him at home?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55346335

Running away and hiding with you (thought they would never get me here)

Nico blows up their cover and now they are public

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54184000

Poética crescente

Nico speaks in Italian to Will and the 7 get their curiosity so they find a way to understand and we’re not prepared for what happens

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54060124

Soft

Nico gets drunk and ironically is extremely clingy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47706652

You are so more important than your powers

Will hides his powers so when Nico finds out he is impressed but also worries 5+1 style

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37522342

Sunny days in spring ( are perfect for a picnic)

Wills has a baby sister and they have a picnic in the woods

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55513450

Spin the bottle

Will gets caught in spin the bottle he decides to put a show up for Nico

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449661

Scars

Nico has scars will comforts him

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354237

Angst

I’ll always have your back

Will is dying and Nico is freaking out based on A thousand years by Christina Perri

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30506187

It was you

Nico thinks he is not enough and attempts sucide but will is there to save the day once again

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267533/chapters/9661905#workskin

The amazing rhyming talent of Nico di Angelo

Nico and Will are arguing which leads to Nico being cursed into rhyming couplets

( the break up is temporary I swear I’m not that mean making you read this)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947356

Why me: a nico di Angelo fan fiction

Nico attempts sucicide Will is there to take care of him

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53693989/chapters/135921397

You’ve run out of bottle space

Will is TIRED because he is overworking….again everyone has a limit at least he has Nico to be there with

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388881

Mystery diagnosis

Nico has a chronic illness ( reread this more than I would like to Admit)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54778375/chapters/138839287

I hate you (not really)

Will is sick of percy getting all the credit what happens when he has enough in the middle of a counselor meeting?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52618567

Camp half blood

Your guardian angel

Wills mother is homophobic and racist but when she invites him and his friends to her wedding to a guy she never told Will about what could possibly go wrong

Spoiler: everything

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460806/chapters/28357629

Things you shouldn’t do at camp half blood

*users only*

A list Things you shouldn’t do at camp half blood title is self explanatory

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47761573/chapters/120398362

Group of mentally ill children

The demigods have a group chat what happens when the gods join?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55141765/chapters/139826212

It’s like rain on your wedding day

As Will and Nico are getting ready to marry Nico receives plot twisting news let’s just say Jason loses his best friend ( not death I swear)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55696237/chapters/141381970

MAYDAY MAYDAY Children on Board (chatfic)

Leo creates a group chat….. do I have to say more? It’s extremely unhinged

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54731743/chapters/138713437

Crush

What happens when Will is visiting his mom which means Kayla and will are alone? Chaos occurs

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55060390

Camp half blood awards

Camp half blood has nominations awards and they all are voting for it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56114392/chapters/142533031

Camp half blood RULEBOOK

Camp half blood rules that camp counselors made but got kinda out of control….

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54797707/chapters/138891499

This family makes me wanna murder people

Apollo cabin group chat ( including Apollo)+apollo cabins honorary member Nico di Angelo ( it’s amazing trust me I reread this more than I can remember)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46350967/chapters/116698180

One shots to the chapters( they are in order)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48475717

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52431322

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47803558

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821460

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49582285

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55448671

The lost Olympian

Apollo and Hermes has a son who is crowned the 13th Olympian but has been kidnapped by Zeus as a baby. when Lou Ellen detects her mothers magic on will solace the truth is to be revealed

This is probably my top 3 from this list

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53275045/chapters/134821261

Will solace and the Un-secret

Will solaces powers got revealed camps gone chaotic at the news and Apollo pays a visit

This is probably my fav plague Will one idk

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45414445/chapters/114264028

5 times will solace explained cabin 7s traditions and one time they participated

Apollo cabin can be chaotic so this is will solace explaining the Apollo cabin to the 7 and some others

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54619711/chapters/138402748

Demigod squad

Demigod group chat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151393/chapters/20790808

Extreme cabin make over

Chiron made Nico stay at cabin 11 for a week

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54787150/chapters/138861697

“i think youre brave“

They get together and do a summoning with a auoja board what happens whwn the ghost is named micheal?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51839386

If we have each other it’s enough

Kayla and will sibling duo this is based on the song “ if we have each other” by Alec Benjamin ( I read while listening to it made the experience better tbh would recommend)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57592177

Will and kayla

If we have each other prompt

https://www.quotev.com/story/16514881/Percy-Jackson-One-ShotsHeadcanonsRamblings/14

Solangelo being baddass ( this needed it’s specific section fight me personally my second fav section first of the royal one lol)

Intentions

Percy and Leo try shovel talking Will but they get humbled quickly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40255497

Hippocrates hold no authority here( say that again to my face coward)

Will showing a bitch who beat up his boyfriend who’s boss Warning: Will mad is scary and Kayla is quitely laughing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52653733

How to speak in rhymes for a week; a helpful guide by Nico dumass di Angelo

Nico understander estimating will and gets humbled rather quickly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47783023

Sequels

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49891288

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48349630

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49008061

In which hades has another get to know my son moments

Will meeting hades which ironically isn’t nervous while Nico is having panic attacks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633381

Uneven ground

Jason can be extremely over protective over Nico especially when he learned he had a boyfriend, which can lead to huge conflicts.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681816/chapters/5998499

Break his heart, we break your bones

Wills friends and siblings thought Nico was dating Will which WAS not the case which leads to 100% nessecary and unhinged shovel talks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141722

I hate you (not really)

Will is sick of percy getting all the credit what happens when he has enough in the middle of a counselor meeting?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52618567

Long but 100% worth it

Shadows and sunshine

A slow burn of how Solangelo came together and how they overcame their challenges

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52222348/chapters/132096502

Go talk to your talk and go viral (I just need this love spiral)

Celebrity AU

Will and Nico plus Leo are childhood best friends Nico and Will are inseparable when Nico has no longer a place to call home he moves into superstar apollos house. What happens when he is interested into music?Well it will only gets better

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46368430/chapters/116743771

Sequence

Rest of the story

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52898074/chapters/133803880

Leo and jason one shot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53203150

Piper and shel one shot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56530600

Apollo cabin adventures

This is a series made by the amazing maddy who also made “ this family makes me want to muder people“

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3558562

How they found love in eachother

self explanatory

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38300785/chapters/102449427

@That oneunemployedfriendonAo3

Every single thing is amazing

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneUnemployedFriendOnAO3/pseuds/ThatOneUnemployedFriendOnAO3/works

[bettyfrommars]

Everlong

part 1: hello, I've waited here for you

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. wc: 5.9k

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

author's note: There will be 2 parts to this. I fully intended to work on something Halloween themed, but then the inspiration for this happened. Just goes to show how my mind doesn't like to be told what to do.

"If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when..."

-- Everlong, Foo Fighters

Steve’s week-long stay with Eddie was half over, and Eddie felt that reality sink his heart as he opened the door to his trailer.

“Honey, I’m home,” he announced with a spring in his step.

He lived in a trailer park across town now, it was double wide, and felt like a luxury after all of those years he spent crowding in with Wayne.  He missed the old man though and went over to Forest Hills every couple of days to visit. 

He never thought he’d be back in Hawkins a decade after high school, but he’d dropped everything to move to Indianapolis for a girl he was seeing, and then got his heart shattered a year later. 

Coming back to his hometown felt a bit like failure, but it also felt safe. He still had good friends there, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore.  Working as a welder at the local fabrication shop was not his dream job, but it paid the bills, and he was comfortable. He even got to play a show with his old band every now and then.  

He put the Chinese take out on the island between the kitchen and the living room and called Steve’s name again.  But then he caught sight of the piece of paper on the coffee table:

 “Went for a run. BRB.”

The note made Eddie grin and feel all goofy, like somehow that small courtesy was such a huge act of love.  He hadn’t been treated very well by his partners over the years, and that revelation stung him in moments like that.

Steve had also done the dishes, and the living room was spotless and organized.  The ashtray on the coffee table had been dumped out and cleaned, all of the Guitar World magazines stacked neatly.  When he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he found that they were all lined up in a row.  Eddie kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of that, but Steve said that if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy, and Eddie respected it.  

Steve Harrington and Eddie had remained best friends, even through the years and the distance and the failed relationships.  It just so happened that Steve was at the tail end of a very messy divorce, and needed a place to crash now that he was back from Chicago.  His ex-wife had managed to take him for every penny he had, so Eddie was quick to offer his place after he joked about having to sleep in his car (it wasn’t a joke).

Eddie played the message blinking on his machine to find that it was from Robin.  She’d also moved back to Hawkins recently, but she worked 50 hours a week, had two roommates, and was dating a woman from another town, so they didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like.  The three of them had a bowling date set for that coming weekend, and it gave Eddie the warm fuzzies to think about them all being back together again.

Eddie was in the shower with his dick in his hand, stroking it, when Steve burst in.  “Hey man,” the intruder grabbed something from the medicine cabinet, and then braced his hands on 

the sink before splashing some water on his face. “God damn, I am out of shape.  That was rough.”  Steve coughed a few times and then wiped his face on the nearby towel.

He couldn’t see Eddie through the dark blue curtain, but had he heard him? There was a possibility that Eddie had been talking to himself, thinking about Steve, and grunting a little as he got himself hard.

“Food smells good,” Steve added as he walked back out into the hall, but left the door wide open. “I’m starving.”

Nah, he hadn’t heard anything.

“I got those weird noodles you like,” Eddie shouted over the sound of the shower.  “And sweet and sour chicken.”  Steve didn’t have to tell Eddie what he wanted from the restaurant down the street; Eddie always paid attention to those things.  

“Hey, leave me some hot water,” Steve was in the doorway again.  “Or should I just get in there with you? Save some resources?” 

“Not unless you want to soap my balls, Harrington,” and then Eddie threw his fist against the curtain.  “Get out, and shut the fucking door, you creep.”

—-------

After dinner and a beer on the porch, the boys retired to their respective positions on the couch while Eddie rolled a joint.  The movie Ghostbusters was on TV, but it was interrupted by a string of commercials, and Steve tucked his foot under him on the opposite end of the couch while he watched Eddie lick the paper.

“Okay if I have a drag?” Steve asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

Eddie snapped a look at him and raised his eyebrows.  “Oh, hell yes.  You think you can handle it?” The metalhead sat back, rolling the piece between his fingers, and then he wet one end and grabbed his lighter.  

“I can handle whatever you can handle, Munson.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Harrington,” Eddie smirked and took a stiff inhale before passing it to his friend.  

Steve’s ex-wife had insisted on a very straight-edge lifestyle, and he hadn’t had a whiff of weed in almost 3 years, so he took a cautious pull.

And then he coughed, and banged his chest, and spittle flew from his wet lips. 

“Damn, alright,” Eddie hummed.  “I take it back, you are a badass.”

“Shit,” Steve could feel the drug seeping into his bloodstream and his senses.  “Feels good. Feels kinda…tingly.”

“Ahh if only to have your tolerance again,” Eddie mused, taking another long drag. The show came back on, and the Ghostbusters were checking out the slime and stacks of books in the library.  

They watched a few minutes of the movie while Eddie continued to smoke.  He offered it to Steve again, but he passed.  

“Hey, do you remember that one time we watched a porno together?” Steve just blurted it out from nowhere, completely unprompted.

Still, Eddie knew exactly which porn he was talking about, and the exact night that it happened.

“I think so,” Eddie tapped his ash out. “Maybe.  Were we at my old place?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen.  “It was the summer you graduated, and Wayne was at work and you were like ‘hey Steve, wanna watch some vampire ass fucking?”

Eddie scoffed.  “Shut up, that is not what I said.”

“Well,” Steve was clearly exaggerating, chuckling to himself.  “That’s what they were doing.”

The movie was called, “Bloodsucking Orgy” and it was a bisexual vampire porn.  But the actors were wearing fake, plastic teeth, and the cheap makeup dripped off of their faces as they fucked, but it was some of the hottest shit Eddie had ever seen at the time.  

What Steve didn’t tell him was that he had to pull over to jerk off in his car that night, not only thinking about the raw breeding on film, but the way Eddie had palmed himself over his jeans, clearly aroused.  That was the first night, all those years ago, when Steve had first questioned his sexuality.  

“I had that vhs with me for a long time,” Eddie held in a tight breath and then released a large plume of smoke. “It was under my bed in a box for years, but I think my ex took it.”

“Trevor?” Steve asked, thinking of the last boyfriend that Eddie had introduced to him that he didn’t like.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t approved of any guy or girl Eddie had dated in a long while; In Steve’s mind, no one was good enough for his best friend.  

“Nah,” Eddie lowered his chin, shyly.  “I only dated him for like, a week. It was barely a handjob.  I’m talking about Jake, the one with the mohawk.”

“The guy who juggled bowling pins at the fair?” Steve rolled his eyes.  “I swear, you know how to pick them, Munson.”

Eddie squinted across the couch at his friend as another commercial came on.  Maybe the weed was a little stronger that night but, was Steve…jealous?

Steve stole a long glance at Eddie when he got up to use the bathroom, taking in the curve of his muscles under the thin white Hanes of his t-shirt and the arc of his resting cock under his sweats.  

They watched a bit more of the movie, speaking the lines to the parts they knew by heart. 

“I’m going to miss this when you go,” Eddie muttered.

Steve’s apartment would be ready by Monday, and Eddie was dreading the lonely nights when Steve wasn’t there on the couch with him.  

“I’ll be just down the road, man,” Steve assured, taking a sip of his beer.  “I thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair, so you could get back to your bachelor pad life.”

Eddie figured Steve was just confused, so he decided to jog his memory.  “I haven’t so much as gone on a date with anyone in almost a year.  This is hardly a rockin’ bachelor pad.”

For some reason, this gave Steve a sense of relief.

Ghostbusters ended and Eddie told Steve to wait right where he was, as if he’d go anywhere, since the couch was also his bed.  

When Eddie sauntered back from the dark hallway, he was carrying two black, clamshell vhs covers.  They were blank on the outside, with no words on the spine, and Steve knew exactly what they were, even from far away.

“Let me guess,” he raised his eyebrow.  “Bloodsucking Orgy Part 2?”

Eddie chuckled. “Close! No, but they are just as bad.”

Steve adjusted himself in a way that made Eddie look over his shoulder as he put the tape in the vcr.  “You okay with this? I figured…for old time’s sake?”

“Sure, yeah, why not?” Steve ran his fingers through his hair a few times and adjusted the collar of his tee because suddenly he felt very hot. 

To say that Eddie was testing Steve would be wrong.  Eddie had no idea that the events in Bloodsucking Orgy had been a bit of a sexual awakening for his friend.  

The actions in the movie would turn Eddie on, sure, but he could control himself for a few minutes if it meant being able to get a laugh at the way Steve’s face twisted up at the ridiculousness of it all.

The credits came on to let you know that this was a “Two Dicks, One Hole Production” and the boys clapped.

There was about 3 minutes of what you’d call “plot” where a bunch of zombies stormed inside this woman’s house while she was having a tupperware party, and then they were suddenly all compelled to have sex.

“Look out, Scorsese,” Steve bubbled a laugh into the palm of his hand.  

Eddie clucked his tongue. “No one appreciates good cinema these days.”

One zombie had its head between a woman’s legs on the table while one of her friends squatted down on her face and rode her tongue.

Some of the husbands came by to rescue their wives, but then they ended up getting dicked down as well.  It was all purely entertaining at first, but all of a sudden, Steve felt his cock twitch.  He palmed himself over his boxers, and looked over to find that Eddie was doing the same thing.

Eddie glanced over and caught Steve staring at him while he touched himself and suddenly, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie anymore.

“Why does it--” Steve started, swallowing hard. "Why does it always look like it feels so good?"

“What?” Eddie rested his head on the back of the couch.  “Being attacked by a flesh-eating zombie?”

“No,” Steve nibbled at his lip.  “When they put it…in their ass…like that.  The dudes I mean.”

Eddie couldn’t even hear the sound from the tv anymore, his ears were ringing.  “Because it does feel good, sometimes, when the right cock is in your ass.”

Steve’s breath hitched at the tone of Eddie’s voice. “You like the feel of it, don’t you?”

Eddie couldn't help himself; he cupped his balls under the blanket. “Yeah, um, I do.”

“I’ve wondered about it,” Steve admitted in a whisper, sliding a hand down slowly to palm himself over his jeans.  He was getting hard and needed the friction. “I've wondered what it would feel like. I think I might like it.”

“You do?” Eddie’s voice was low.  

Was this really happening? Was Steve just shooting the shit? Or was he trying to throw clues down? If so, how should he handle it? He’d masturbated to this scenario so many times in his life but had no idea how he would make his move in real time.  

Steve hadn't planned this. He'd had thoughts about Eddie before, sure, but he never imagined he'd do anything about it while he was staying at his place. How embarrassing would it be if his friend rejected him? He had to play it cool so he could make it out like he was kidding if that happened.

With a surge of adrenaline, Steve scooted closer, and his friend met him in the middle of the couch.  

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve’s eyes searched the other pair of chocolate orbs, and they were so close now, Eddie’s pulse was skyrocketing.  “I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Eddie mumbled.  There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to miss his chance. He pinched the front of Steve’s shirt.  “We could experiment, if you want? What are best friends for?”

Eddie knew there was a platonic best friend line in the sand that was about to be crossed, and it could never be uncrossed, but the way Steve was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes made him not care one single goddamn bit.  

He’d do anything for Steve. Even if it meant he was just another “experimental experience” for a straight guy. 

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and as much as he wanted it, Eddie pulled his head back.

“Say it,” Eddie muttered.

Steve squeezed himself through his boxers and frowned, confused.  “Say what?”

Eddie moved in close again, brushing Steve’s lips with his.  “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Steve choked on the words at first, and then he told Eddie what he needed to hear.

Their mouths met in a frenzy of clumsy tongues and cries, and then they made their way to the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they went.  

It wasn’t long before Eddie was naked next to Steve on the bed, pushing a lubed finger inside him one knuckle at a time.  “Is that okay?” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. His friend’s eyes were closed, but Eddie’s were wide open—he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Yes—fuck,” Steve squirmed, but his hips were moving down, needing Eddie deeper.  He gripped Eddie’s back with one hand, and the other came up to fist his own length where it throbbed.

Eddie moved his head down, his hair dragging along his companion's chest. “Let me,” he mumbled.  Steve held it at the base so that the metalhead could take the swollen, leaking tip into his mouth. Now he was twirling his tongue around the head and fucking his finger inside of his best friend.  He savored the taste of the salty tang, making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed.

Eddie’s mouth was magic, and Steve was hiccupping erotic sighs.  “Tell me again, why did we wait this long?” He chuckled, and Eddie smiled around the gift in his mouth, both of them caught in mutual disbelief and bliss.

“You feel that?” Eddie came up for air long enough to ask, pupils blown, rubbing deep onto Steve’s prostate with purpose.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Steve shuddered.  He bent his knees up and placed his feet on the mattress so that he could arch his pelvis up to give better access.  “I think...I think I need more,” he breathed.

Eddie chanced a look up at his friend: his head was back, throat exposed, and–oh shit— he loved seeing what he was doing to him.  The way that he was the one giving Steve Harrington this much pleasure, to be the one to make him unravel.  

The second finger went in, stretching him, and Steve’s muscle squeezed around Eddie’s digits so tight, it made his cock ache to take their place.  The phalange in question was tucked against Steve’s hip, aching, and he rutted it there a few times, leaving a snail trail of juice on his partner’s skin.

“Move this leg,” Eddie advised, and Steve licked his lips, watching every move, hoping to god that he did not stop fucking him.  He was switching positions now, getting in between Steve’s thighs.

Steve used the slick from Eddie’s saliva to work the tip of his cock a few times as his eyes roamed the wash of tattoos over his friend’s sinewy muscles, and the guitar pick necklace that swayed against his chest.  

“Does this feel okay?” Eddie buried the second finger in and scissored them to stretch out Steve’s hole, feeling the resistance throb in his own balls.

Steve winced with a hiss, and Eddie’s hand stilled, but then Steve’s eyes snapped open. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop.” 

Eddie was quick to lower his head to take over the tending of Steve’s huge member, making his friend moan long and hard.

When he looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and the way his arm moved in and out between his legs, listening to the soft, wet, sucking sounds, Steve started to have some real feelings.  They were feelings he was afraid to think, let alone say out loud.

“I-I need you inside of me, Eddie,” Steve managed.  “I need you to fuck me right now.”

Eddie rose up, staring into Steve’s eyes as he took his fingers out to put the head of his dripping cock against the slip of Steve’s hole, rubbing it up and down.  “Are you sure?” Eddie mumbled. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Steve blinked a few times, liking the way Eddie bit his bottom lip and searched his face.

Eddie’s heart was about to explode in his chest.  He imagined bits of his heart and cum sprayed everywhere when his strewn body parts were found the next morning.  

After a few moments of working the tip through and moaning at the way his hole sucked him in, Eddie leaned forward and pressed into Steve, spreading him open, letting him give a silent scream into his mouth. Eddie braced his partner’s hips, trembling at the sensation as he clenched around him.

Once he sank all the way in, Eddie intertwined his fingers with Steve’s above his head and began to move.

“The way you’re gripping me—holy shit,” Eddie murmured against his mouth.  “Does that feel okay?”

“It feels…so fucking good,” Steve hushed. “Don’t stop.”

Steve’s bent legs were up now, and Eddie was thrusting against him, deep and hard, unable to hold back the emotions that drove his movements.  Steve’s body bent so that his stomach wrinkled as Eddie found a mouth-watering pace, his guitar pick swinging in the air.

Foreheads pressed together, Eddie said, “wrap your legs around me,” and that’s when it happened; that’s when Steve could feel the coil snap in his stomach as Eddie drove into him with purpose.

Eddie grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled tight, yanking his head to the side, making him whimper.

“Cum inside me, Eddie—” Steve cried.

Eddie gave a strangled gasp at his words, because he was close, but it didn’t take long to slide one hand between them to find Steve’s leaking tip to help him along. 

“I’m gonna cum in your tight little asshole,” breathless, Eddie was pounding him now, and neither one of them cared if the wet slapping sounds could be heard next door.  

It was all Eddie could do not to declare his love then; to tell Steve that it had always been him, and it would be him forever after.  “I’m so in love with you,” he wanted to say, and the thought alone made his orgasm rise. 

The way Eddie made him feel so full would have been enough, but then his friend’s strong, calloused hand was yanking at his cock and Steve began to convulse under him.  “Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.  Eddie, I’m cumming!”

First of all, did Steve just call him baby? 

But then there was no time to consider it because there were warm ropes of his release shooting between them, and Steve’s muscle gripped Eddie’s length over and over, milking him.

The way Steve cried out made Eddie’s movements erratic as he emptied himself, scooting closer, and bending his friend more in half to get deeper, to keep pumping with each aching grunt.  

“Shit, you feel amazing,” Eddie cursed as everything got slippery and he could feel his seed leaking out between them.

Once they both came down from their highs, Eddie pulled himself out of Steve and kissed his knee before shimmying off the bed.

“Damn,” Steve looked down at himself, at the spray of jizz that began to pool in his belly button and noticed the sensation of Eddie’s release dripping down his ass.  “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Hold on, I got it,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth, brushing hair out of his face, and Steve watched him climb onto the bed to nestle between his thighs again.  His cock was still half-hard, bobbing in the air as if it were already preparing for another round.  

Eddie had the wet rag ready, but then the cum glistening on Steve’s stomach gave him other ideas.  

“Are you giving me all that sweet aftercare now?” Steve scoffed.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows before bending down to lap at Steve’s bellybutton with his tongue.  “You’re my guest.”

The feeling of his friend’s tongue dragging along his sensitive flesh was about to make Steve erect again, and he writhed at the sensation, eventually scooting further away, up against the headboard.  Eddie watched him go, not sure what he’d done wrong, and passed him the washcloth.  

Steve was having a hard time looking at his best friend now.  Maybe because it had been the best orgasm of his life? Maybe because the past hour had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself? 

He didn’t know what to do with the towel when he was done, so he handed it to Eddie, and he tossed it to the ground with a flop.  

Eddie was about to move up next to Steve to kiss him, or at least sit next to him, but instead Steve got up off the bed and bent down to put his boxers on.  

“So, does this mean—” Steve stammered, keeping his back to Eddie.  “Does this mean that I—that I’m a bottom?”

Eddie was about to chuckle as he stretched long on the mattress and put his head in his hand, but then he realized Steve was asking a serious question.  

“Did you enjoy it?” Eddie asked, cautiously.

“Um, yeah,” Steve bent down to pick up his shirt.  “Obviously I did.”

That response elicited a quiver of a smile from Eddie, putting parentheses on either side of his mouth.

Eddie exhaled a long breath and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  “It means…whatever you want it to mean.  I’m not one to really care for labels.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod, taking in the information.  He went to sit at the edge of the bed, fully clothed now, and Eddie ran a hand down his chest, thinking of his next words.

“We could always try it…the other way,” he said it so nonchalantly, and it made Steve turn his head, curiosity piqued.

“The other way?”

“You know,” now it was Eddie averting his eyes.  “You could fuck next time, if you want.  If you want to try it, I mean.  See if you like it.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve ran a hand up and down his face. “I don’t know, man, this is —kinda blowing my mind right now.”

“I get it,” Eddie could feel a familiar heartache rising in his throat.  “We could just forget this ever happened, if you want.”

There was a heavy silence then, thick and weighty with the fear of the unknown.  

“No, I don’t want that,” Steve whispered.

Eddie lifted his head up.  “You don’t?” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and sat up to brace his elbows behind him.  

Steve stood and put his hands on his hips before turning to his friend again.  He raked his fingers through his hair.  “I want to keep doing this,” he muttered.  “But I don’t know what that means.”

“Hey,” Eddie scooted himself down so that he was sitting close to where Steve was standing, legs off the bed, and looked up at him.  “We’re the only ones allowed to define this…whatever is happening between us. No one else.”  

And the next thing you knew, Steve surprised himself for the second time that night, by going over to stand in front of Eddie.  He brushed a few strands of his outdated bangs off of his forehead and Eddie closed his eyes to bask in the attention.  

But his eyes opened when he felt Steve lower his head and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders.  His mouth was so close now, and their noses slotted together.  “I think I need to kiss you again,” he hushed.

Eddie’s hands went to the hips of Steve’s shorts, making fists in the material; he could feel himself getting hard again already.

“You better fucking do it, then, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled.

Once their lips met, tongues were quick to follow, and then they were crashing into the kiss and Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck.  He had so many questions, and so many concerns about what this would look like to the outside world, to his friends and estranged family.  But, in that moment, nothing mattered more than getting as close to this person he loved as he possibly could.

He wanted to be inside of him.  

Eddie dropped to his knees and took Steve’s boxers with him, making Steve curse once he was back inside Eddie’s warm mouth. 

Eddie pulled back to spit on the head, connecting a string of saliva to his mouth when he looked up to stare into his companions' eyes.  

“You know where I want to put that,” Steve told the man on his knees.

Eddie’s moan was full of yearning.  “I want you to fill me up,” and then he licked down the shaft and spit again until it was soaked.  Eddie sucked his finger and then snaked it back to push the tip into Steve’s clenching muscle while he gave kitten licks to the freshly juiced pre-cum.  

Steve jumped. “Fuck, baby—you’ll make me cum like that,” he barked a laugh.

Eddie’s smile was huge—-holy shit, he was so in love—-but then he stood to full height and grabbed Steve by the throat to kiss him.  “We’ve got all night.”

Steve found his partner's rock-hard length and began to roll back the foreskin with a firm grip.  He had no idea what he was doing but decided to go with whatever felt right.  “Bend over,” Steve told him, taking a fist full of his hair. “Get on the bed.”

Steve’s tone made Eddie clench, and his balls were preparing for duty again.

Steve stepped out of his boxers and took his shirt off, keeping his attention on Eddie’s ass, and the way it was on full display for him now.

“The lube is in the—” Eddie started, but Steve silenced him with a “shush”.

“You’re a big boy, Harrington,” Eddie continued.  “I don’t want to get ripped open toni—-”

But then big hands were spreading his cheeks apart and an eager tongue was dancing around his asshole.  

Eddie pushed his hips back and the tongue dove inside. “Does that feel good?” Steve asked in between licks.  

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed.

With that new burst of encouragement, Steve slid his thumb in, making the metalhead throw his head back.  

Steve considered the logistics of it all for a moment, and then: “Can you get on your side?”  

He moved into position without question.  Steve didn’t have the nerve to say it, but he wanted to see Eddie; he wanted to be able to look at his face when he came.  When they were both ready, Eddie rubbed the lube on his friend’s generous length, and then Steve squirted a bit on that pink, puckered spot, and Eddie yelped at the cold sensation.

More low chuckles, more tender laughter.

Eddie watched over his shoulder at the way Steve was concentrating as he lined the tip up.  His best friend was so fucking beautiful, and he hoped to god it wasn’t a dream. Steve straddled Eddie’s bottom leg, while his top bent to the side, twisting at his hip.  

Steve stammered a few curse words when he sank in an inch, halting.  “Oh shit, I had no idea how tight—holy fuck Munson.”

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.  

Steve groaned long and hard with each thrust, pushing himself in, taking his time, and then pulling out a bit until his hips were almost flush with Eddie’s ass.

“You like it when I stretch you out, don’t you?” 

Eddie’s jaw went slack, and he reached down to touch himself, rutting into the mattress.

Steve buried himself inside Eddie, spreading his cheeks apart to watch.  “Tell me I’m the only one who fills you up like this.”

“You’re the only one,” Eddie was whimpering now, trembling with lust and love. “I need you to start moving right now, Harrington!”

Steve was snapping his hips then, pounding Eddie just the way he wanted.  The sounds escaping both of them were egging each other on, and Steve held Eddie’s leg up to get a better angle.

“It’s never felt this good,” Steve blurted.  “Look at me.”

Eddie turned his head to meet his partner’s hooded gaze, sweaty hair sticking to his cheek.  What if he said, “I love you”? What then? Because it was right there on the tip of his tongue.  

“I’m so close, Eddie,” Steve’s movements stuttered a bit.  “I need to see you.”

It was only a few more seconds of that intense eye contact before Steve was losing every last bit of himself inside his friend, slapping their skin even harder together as warm wetness filled the space.  Steve’s toes curled on the mattress, and he threw his head back, holding onto Eddie's leg so that he didn’t fall over.  

Being inside Eddie, to share something like that with him, felt so right and so perfect, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

He flipped his partner over so that he was on his back, neglected cock straining against his tattooed stomach, and Steve bent over to put it into his mouth.

“Steve—!” Eddie was already about to blow his load before those soft lips were on him, but now his balls were tightening up close to his body. “I’m so close, I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

Steve nodded, humming on his friend’s swollen length as the salty spill poured over his tongue and he drank it down with eager swallows.  Eddie writhed, shaking as he came.  

They showered together again after that, and Steve found out about Eddie’s insatiable appetite when they jerked each other off one more time before they found sleep.  They were all a tangle of limbs and legs, hot breath against the skin of each other’s throats.

The next two days brought much of the same. They had dinner together when Eddie got home from work and held hands in front of the tv.  Until hand holding turned to touching and it was time for Steve to experiment being inside Eddie from a different angle.  They both lost count of the number of times they came inside of each other.  Well, Steve lost count.  For Eddie, each one was precious and something he cherished.  

On the third day, while the Saturday morning cartoons were on, Eddie’s head was in Steve’s lap while he played with his hair and rubbed his scalp.  Eddie’s eyes were rolling back in his head, and he suddenly understood why cats purr.  It all felt so natural, hidden away there in Eddie’s cozy trailer with the curtains drawn, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist.

But then there came the sound of footsteps bounding up to the porch, and someone tried the door handle before offering a few quick knocks.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” The woman’s voice exclaimed.  “Open up, this is the police.”

Steve’s eyes bulged and he practically pushed Eddie to the ground, trying to cover himself with the blanket. He was wearing his boxer shorts, but it made him feel very exposed.

Eddie’s hair was a mess when he sat up, and he gave Steve a curious frown.  “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Robin.”

“I know,” Steve took a breath.  “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Eddie threw a pillow in Steve’s face and shouted, “coming!”

“No, no, wait!” Steve lurched up and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him back down to the couch.  

Eddie gave him a few confused shakes of his head.  “Are you losing it man? You knew she had the day off and might come over.”

“It’s not that,” Steve was whispering.  “I want to see her I just—did you tell her…does she know…about us?”

Eddie’s face sobered.  “When would I have a chance to tell her? I’ve spent every free second with you.”

“Okay good,” Steve’s shoulders sank, showing that he was clearly relieved.  “Let’s keep it between us, alright? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Anyone…ever?” Eddie was searching his companion’s eyes, hoping to find that same glimmer from the past couple days there, but it was gone. He understood that coming out could be complicated and difficult, and he didn’t think Steve would be shouting it from the hills, but surely Robin could know? They were the three amigos, the best of friends.  If anyone would embrace him for exactly who he was and who he wanted to have sex with, it would be her.  

Maybe he just needed more time, and that was fine, Eddie had plenty of it.  

Robin knocked again, more forceful this time.  “What the hell? I’m growing mold out here.”

Eddie remained still, passing his tongue over his teeth, and thought about what Steve was asking of him.  

“I’m going to put some clothes on,” Steve got to his feet and jogged out of sight, to the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit there, feeling the weight of being a secret, yet again.  

“Hey!” Steve hissed from the hallway where he struggled to pull his jeans on while Eddie walked to the door.  “Could you light a candle or something? It smells like sex in here.”

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.  

Anything for you, King Steve.

-----

Hi! Thank you for reading! Always love hearing from you. Look out for part 2 🧡

[icejinlov3r]

My Oneshot Ideas

Okay, so since I have three separate oneshot books (four if you include my request book) I’m gonna break these down into the three books. Heres each list:

Frieza/Frost Oneshots:

Passionate Assassination (NSFW) - Basically it’s Renisance time, and Frost tries to initially assassinate Prince Frieza, but it when it fails, instead of punishment, Frieza gives him a chance to redeem himself~

Mob Boss Deal (NSFW) - Frieza is a mob boss who clears Frost’s criminal record, but discovers Frost can’t get him the money he’s owed. Instead, Frost offers his body to him to settle his debt (honestly similar to the first idea, just a different setting)

Different Worlds (NSFW) - Frieza is a wanted criminal from Universe 6, and Frost is a tyrant from Universe 7. Frost captures Frieza after he stows away on his ship, but makes on offer to release him if he helps him create an offspring. This would probably have two parts.

Chosen (NSFW) - A completely different AU of the Arcosian world, where every year concubine volunteers step up to service the royals. Frost becomes one of the volunteers, Frieza picks him out of several others, and they have a romantic night of passion.

Awkward Walk In (NSFW) - Cooler and Geliaden, and Frieza and Frost, go to a resort for a double date vacation. At some point, Frieza and Frost are having a good time, until Cooler and Geliaden walk in on them by accident, embarrassing Frost to no end.

Cell/Zamasu Oneshots:

Imperfection (NSFW) - Cell accidentally reveals his imperfect form to Zamasu. While initially worried about disgusting or terrifying Zamasu, the Kai accepts him as he is -in more ways than one.

Bad Feeling (SFW) - Zamasu runs into his old friend, Black, and the two start spending time together. But a slightly jealous Cell can’t help feeling Black is trying to make a move on his man.

Something New (NSFW) - Zamasu discovers Cell has secret kinks he likes, but never mentioned to him, thinking the usually preserved Kai wouldn’t enjoy them. As a result of his guilt, he agrees to try one of them in an attempt to please Cell.

Dragon Ball Oneshots:

Freerost x Cellmasu Omegaverse (NSFW) - Roommates Frieza and Cell allow newcomers Zamasu and Frost to move in with them, under the assumption they’re alphas just like them. But due to a combined unforeseen heat cycle, Frost and Zamasu’s secret is revealed (this would be a longer one, probably two or three parts)

Freerost x Cellmasu Swinging (NSFW) - Couples Frieza/Frost and Cell/Zamasu meet in a club, hit it off, and play with the idea of switching partners for the evening. In the same room, of course (weird idea, I know, but it’s crossed my mind a few times).

Freerost x Cellmasu Eyes on Us (SFW) - Yoji invites the two couples to his special party. Course, he leaves out the part that it’s a swingers party - and the couples find out the hard way.

Not gonna lie, I have SO many more, but these are the ones that my current mood has been fixated on. If you can’t tell, I’ve been obsessed with my two OTPs lol. Anyway, you guys let me know what sounds most interesting to you.

[platoniccereal]

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hmmm... That I want to open your head with a screwdriver and see into the mechanisms of your mind."

Aether sits up almost immideatly after hearing that, staring in disbelief at Kuni.

"I just know you're not trying to be romantic."

"The fuck? Who said I was trying to be romantic?"

"I dunno! I expected something sappy and sweet, since the mood seemed right for it."

Kuni scrunches his face in disgust.

"Wrong adress Juliette, I can't believe you'd think I'd say something sweet. Who do you take me for? Kazuha?"

"Guys, you're really killing the vibe." Heizou points out, sighing a bit tired.

"I get that you have issues showing vulnerability in front of others-"

"Ooooh no! You are NOT going to psychoanalyze me, you scooby doo knock off."

Aether shudders a bit, noticing the cold creep in when Kuni finally sits up himself.

"Kuni, please, tiny Kazuha is dreaming!"

"Mmmh I'm all good, thanks, Heizou."

And as expected, Kazuha lays there, eyes closed with a gentle smile on his lips as he enjoys the fresh spring night. A chilly spring night as it turns out, causing Aether to shake a bit. Though not for long as Kuni wordlessly wraps his jacket he just layed on around Aether, while he himself sits on the free space on Aethers blanket on the ground, never stopping his arguing with his roommates.

"I don't care! Stop it before I throw you down a flight of stairs."

"That too, is only a sign of inability to deal with your own emo-"

"That's it!-"

"Look!"

Breaking their argument apart Aether points at the starry sky that shows a shooting star pass by. Then another. Then another. Then two more as the star shower picks up turning into a bright and beautiful spectacle in the sky. Their reason to be here in the middle of the night.

"Kazu!"

Kazuha stands up and walks towards the borrowed telescope looking up into the night sky with it.

"Mmmh! Heizou, take a look."

"Coming~"

Everyone looks into the sky to witness the display of beauty that transpires. All except for Kuni, whos eyes are fixated firmly on Aether next to him, cuddled into the poofy jacket he was given and eyes transfixed onto the night sky, blending out anything else around him.

He didnt particularly care for the trip, but when Aether showed so much excitement he agreed to join the others on it. And for all he cared, it was worth it. Just to see his own star shine.

-🐦

ANONNN I'M giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair yada yada yada. i don't care what anyone says opening your partner's head to study him is romantic. and the double stargazing anemo boys date is hdhdgdg every choice made along the way was correct. and everybody admiring the view but kuni has his own- 😭😭😭 going back into my hole anon and taking it with me.

[mantra4ia]

Excuse me while I go watch City: Primeval for the it's-Justified-time.

I love nearly everything about it:

"Tick tock goes the clock...there's no such thing as on time. You're either early or your late. And where you're going we're going to be early." I love that when we meet teenage Willa, and Raylan's getting her ice cream, it's hard to tell from the relationship dynamic whether he's off or on the clock— whether she's a marshall's daughter or his bounty—only to learn that he's hauling her off to a remedial behavior camp and that the answer is yes to both. 😅 Anyone else get a flashback vibe to Dewey Crowe?

White collar criminal..."what do you think he did to get in the book? Capitalism." The truth.

Doesn't hold back from pointing out the corruption in institutional law enforcement. Gives new meaning to "throw the book at 'em."

Court room: Raylan: "Pretty much" / Defendant: " ******* I wanted Chick-fil-A"

We love Wendell Robinson, "sometimes I guess it takes an angry white guy to catch an angry white guy."

"Even though my premium is up to date, I can't make a claim because what now? Because the police did it?" #white collar crime.

"there are things that I want to do with that book that have nothing to do with what's legal and everything, e-ver-y-thing to do with what's just. Can you understand?" That's funny, you have no idea.

Carolyn, my queen, you exude all the badass chemistry I could ever imagine. You had me at "The marshall isn't the one on trial / give me a minute and he will be." And then:

"Sir, please... don't move, don't say shit."

"Better now that my ****-heel partner is gone..."

(Sees purse, finds a bra) you can't be serious, is she here? Ma'am? This is not Tasha's size...I'm going to come over here and burn your closet. What I wouldn't pay to make you a memory."

"Raylan: How was it for you? / Carolyn: About what I expected."

"Raylan: I'm getting an x-ray with my dinner. / Carolyn: Maybe that's what you prefer...all by yourself power. In my life everyone has their foot on my neck to get what they want. **** them. **** them to be so small they abuse their power."

"I'm leaving. Lea-ving" / "In the eternal words of Ra: **** 'em"

"Carolyn: I got something you want / Raylan: That's fair to say"

About Detroit: "I haven't been here a week and the s*** I've seen gives me pause."

Marcus Sweety sass gives me life!

Sandy's Thai roommate needs her own Justified mini show. I'm convinced that Hina a crime lord's daughter or a marshall in the making. She made Albanian mobsters and their tooth extractors look like boy scouts and the only unbelievable premise of this sequel is that if Sandy wanted out of her toxic relationship with the Oklahoma madman, all she needed to do was stick Clement in a room with Hina. Fast forward to episode 8, conflict resolved.

Clement has some really chaotic Boyd Crowder vibes, second only to Boyd himself, and I can picture some of the lines that he has in this series as things that were on the cutting room floor from Justified. "Hun, do you what cut this is? (The Southern comfort steak). Ding ding ding, ready for double jeopardy. Now I ordered the steak black and blue. Do you know what black and blue means? (Rare) Oh no, ma'am. It does not mean rare, it means god**** bloody red. So here's what I want you to do, I want you to take this and throw it in the trash. Then I want you to get your chef have another steak, smack that over the fire, sing two verses of "Dead Leaves on the Dirty Ground," flip that sucker, sing the third verse, yank it off, plate it ... And if I don't hear it moo in pain then we're just going to start this all over again." I half expected him to start singing you'll never leave Harlan alive. #I'm a vegetarian, but if I wasn't before I would be now.

Willa's best line and her whole raison d'etre is giving Raylan a second chance at walking away and setting up her dad for love and a semi-normal life: "he's pretty nice for a white guy." From her first giggle at cat videos that led to contempt, she's pretty much his matchmaker and he's just handcuffed in the trunk for the ride along. "I'm not about to take care of you when you're old."

"What is a Garlick?!" The smatterings of comedic timing slaps.

"Raylan: I ain't gonna sleep at night this SOB wins. / Raymond: Look at you, still giving a ****...[Freddy Keck] I shot him. / He drew on you. / I don't know. / You don't know? / I think it was a church key./ He had a bottle opener. / I clean my fingers [with it] and I slept just like a baby." Ray and Raylan, while painfully on the nose as a metaphor, is stone cold accurate. What a screaming angriest-man-I-know look in the mirror — full circle from my Justified s1e1, complete with pissed off ex-wife the likes of which Winona would drink to. #"Mary Alice only speaks to me on pain of death."

Downsides:

The only thing missing from this series is Marshal Gutterson and Rachel Brooks, and Loretta McCready. Non-spoiler-spoilers ahead for those who haven't finished City Primeval: I'll let you speculate as to who's not missing...

The ending that leaves you wanting more! Willa: "I'd like too see where you're from." Take my money and give me a sequel to the sequel. Lord knows by that cliffhanger you're thinking about it.

[slashtakemylife]

Please I love Peggy Carter so I beg y'all not to insult her or demonize her at least in this post

Hydra stomper Steve now turned Winter Soldier should have MCU's Steve's ending and go back to the past to live a life with Bucky

I love Captain Carter but when seeing they where planning to further that story and into Winter Soldier with a character switch I couldn't help but feel betrayed because they didn't want to add women to the roster, they wanted an excuse to water down the Winter Soldier storyline into a hetero one

But this got me thinking... They should respect their choices since they are going to follow it step by step so they should take it up to Endgame. However now it's Bucky the one in the past wiggles eyebrows

What if...?

After recovering from the Winter Soldier mindset, Steve goes to visit Bucky who is still alive.

I'm pretty much aware What if will totally want to show him married with kids but shhh this is my What if now

Old Bucky tells Steve he's been in love with him all this time, yes even now at old age, Bucky never forgot him and he's been gay all along, he was just too scared to say it at the time, this Bucky has been single all his life, except for a long time male roommate but he's always thought of Steve and he's glad he was to not just admit it out loud but finally telling Steve.

Steve who's also been in love with Bucky since childhood but also was too afraid to say and he was sure Bucky was straight with the amount of dates he had but they where all a ruse and he used the double dates as an excuse to go out with Steve. Steve is bi and for him Peggy was his way of moving on from Bucky who he can never have, he does care about Peggy and can see a future loving her but not the same passion as Bucky and now that Bucky just told him he'd love him all along makes him think of what he missed out, and entire life really.

So after Endgame he bullshits his way to ensure he is the one to put back the infinity stones and surprise surprise, he stays back, Peggy already suspected and still enabled him, she wants him to be happy and then of course, surprise surprise, Bucky's long time roommate has been Steve all along, much like MCU Steve is alleged to have being Peggy's husband all along.

And honestly is easier to hide this Steve since he isn't Captain America and Bucky also had to hide his partner due to the time period and as a Hydra Stomper his face was rarely shown.

So yeah I hope they stick with it until Endgame and Steve can go back to his Bucky and if they don't fxk them, I'm the boss here and the rules of the multiverse imply this scenario is just as valid as their bs ones

[prem-ium]

At time of posting this His Man 2 is at 7 of 14 episodes.  Since we are at the half way point in the show (and because I’ve become obsessed), I’m doing a recap of what has happened so far.  Mostly just the main points.  Going person by person from oldest to youngest.  Recap under the cut.

 Jungwook

33 yrs old – singer/songwriter – US Citizen

First meeting was with Yoonghee and Minsung

Roommate Yoonghee (and later Hyungjin)

Phone call 1: Minsung

Date 1: picked by Yoonghee – customising mugs and bonding over dogs.

Phone call 2: Yoonghee

Date 2: chose Hyeongjun – Karaoke and arcade games

Revealed during jenga:

Longest relationship was 8.5 yrs starting from a young age.  While they valued the length of the relationship they eventually ended as they just weren’t a good fit for each other.

Only came out to parents last Autumn – very Christian family and they are still working through it.  States he has carefully only come out to about 1 friend every 5 yrs or so.

Phone call 3: Yoonghee

Roommate change: Requested Sungho, received a request from Minsung

New room assignment: Quad room.  Sharing bed with Yoonghee,  Junsung and Hyeongjun in other bed.

BBQ: fed by Seonwoo

Voicemail left to: Unknown.

At this stage, has received 0 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

  Seonwoo

32 yrs old – Owns a gelato store

First meeting was with Sungho and Junsung

Roommate: Single room

Phone call 1: Junsung

Date 1: picked by Sungho – Cancelled by new arrival.  Now picked by Hyungjin - rollerskating

Phone call 2: Hyeongjun

Date 2: chose Sungho – painted portraits

Revealed during jenga:

Longest relationship was 2-3 yrs (doesn’t seem to have had a clear end) were living together but didn’t seem like they were really dating just being domestic.  

Came out to several people within a week of starting the show.  Not out prior to that.

Phone call 3: Sungho

Roommate change: Requested Minsung, received a request from Yoonghee

New room assignment: Double room with Minsung

BBQ: fed Jungwook and 2x Hyungjin

Voicemail left to: Sungho

At this stage, has received 6.5 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

 Hyeongjun

30 yrs old – Owns a bar, DJs and has a popular YouTube channel

First meeting was with Sungho

Roommate: Minsung

Phone call 1: not present

Date 1: Sungho - footbath

Phone call 2: Minsung

Date 2: picked by Jungwook – karaoke and arcade

Revealed during jenga:

Came out via pdf.  Didn’t really reveal much else.

Phone call 3: Minsung

Roommate change: Requested Minsung, received 0 requests

New room assignment: Quad room.  Sharing bed with Junsung, Jungwook and Yoonghee in other bed

BBQ: fed by Minsung

Voicemail left to: Minsung

At this stage, has received 2 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

 Junsung

27 yrs old – works in department store for a luxury brand

First meeting was with Sungho and Seonwoo

Roommate: Double room with Sungho

Phone call 1: Sungho

Date 1: chose Minsung – baking. (special cookies gifted to Sungho)

Phone call 2: Sungho

Date 2: Missed out – stayed home with Minsung (received a note from Sungho)

Revealed during jenga:

Broke up from longest relationship because he was taken for granted. Also stated he made an effort for a Christmas date only to find his partner on a dating app when he came back from the bathroom.  

Parents found out he was gay at 18 when they found his love letters and photos.  Moved out and took 6 months to get himself together.  Slowly mending relationship.  Mother told him he could do the show if he could deal with the cost of it.

Phone call 3: Sungho

Day 4 – confronted Seonwoo about both liking Sungho.  Told him “please drop out”, “I don’t like people touching my belongings” and “it’s more than a crush for me”.

Roommate change: Requested Sungho, received a request from Sungho

New room assignment: Quad room.  Sharing bed with Hyeongjun, Jungwook and Yoonghee in other bed.

Had a further chat with Seonwoo that Sungho overheard.  Junsung stating Sungho is special to him and he likes everything about him.  Seonwoo stating that Junsung likes him more and that Seonwoo does want to date others and is okay if that means he loses Sungho.  

BBQ: fed by Sungho

Voicemail left to: Sungho

At this stage, has received 1.5 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

 Hyungjin

26 – Hair stylist

First meeting was with everyone

Roommate: Yoonghee and Jungwook

Phone call 1: not present

Date 1: chose Seonwoo - rollerskating

Phone call 2: Seonwoo

Date 2: Picked by Yoonghee – dreamcatchers

Revealed during jenga:

Came out “naturally”. Stated he didn’t feel the need to hide. Didn’t really reveal much else.

Phone call 3: Yoonghee

Roommate change: Requested Minsung, received 0 requests

New room assignment: Single room

BBQ: fed Hyeongjun and 2x Seonwoo

Voicemail left to: Unknown

At this stage, has received 2 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

  Minsung

24 yrs old – Plastic surgery consultant/manger

First meeting was with Yoonghee and Jungwook

Roommate: Single room (later became double with Hyeongjun)

Phone call 1: Yoonghee

Date 1: picked by Junsung – baking (special cookies later gifted to Hyeongjun)

Phone call 2: Hyeongjun

Date 2: Missed out – stayed home with Junsung

Revealed during jenga:

Ended his longest relationship due to being long distance.

Out to his close friends but his parents don’t know.  He is scared to disappoint them.

Phone call 3: Hyungjin

Roommate change: Requested Jungwook, received a request from Hyungjin, Hyeongjun and Seonwoo

New room assignment: Double room with Seonwoo

BBQ: fed Yoonghee and Hyeongjun

Voicemail left to: Hyungjin

At this stage, has received 4 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

  Sungho

24 yrs old – Makeup artist

First meeting was with Seonwoo and Junsung

Roommate: Double room with Junsung

Phone call 1: Seonwoo

Date 1: chose Seonwoo – Cancelled by new arrival.  Left home until taken out by Hungjin - footbath

Received gift of cookies and noodles from Junsung and noodles from Seonwoo

Phone call 2: Seonwoo

Date 2: picked by Seonwoo – painting portraits

Revealed during jenga:

Top three choices are Seonwoo, Minsung and Junsung

Stated he was out to friends – did not mention family

Phone call 3: Seonwoo

Roommate change: Requested Junsung, received a request from Junsung and Jungwook

New room assignment: Single room

BBQ: fed Junsung

Voicemail left to: Unknown

At this stage, has received 6 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

  Yoonghee

21 yrs old – College Student

First meeting was with Minsung and Jungwook

Roommate: Jungwook (and later Hyungjin)

Phone call 1: Seonwoo

Date 1: chose Jungwook – customising mugs and bonding over dogs.

Phone call 2: Seonwoo

Date 2: chose Hyungjin - dreamcatchers

Revealed during jenga:

Used to be on a gay YouTube show – was outed in friend group when they found it – friends were supportive.

Also stated he would call the person he wanted to be physical with.

Phone call 3: Junsung by accident.  Intended to call Seonwoo and told him that in person when he found out about the mistake the next day.  (JS and SW both getting a half point for this in the phone call count)

Roommate change: Requested Seonwoo, received 0 requests

New room assignment: Quad room. Sharing bed with Jungwook.  Junsung and Hyeongjun in other bed.

BBQ: fed by Minsung

Voicemail left to: Unknown

At this stage, has received 4 phone calls (including any known voicemails)

And that’s it so far.  I might update after episode 12 if I get the time.

[92-guy]

Happy anniversary

Jackunzel (Modern AU)

Jack's afternoon was going great, he had a great plan that with Ana's help, he would be the best day for his girlfriend Rapunzel and celebrate their anniversary, until a message made his excited smile change to one of confusion.

"We have a problem"

A message from his girlfriend is the only thing that can change Jack's mood so fast, but this was different, when Jack asked her about the problem she replied:

"Remember when I told you that Anna was coming over this weekend?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

“She brought Elsa”

“Oh dammit…"

Elsa, unlike them, was very reserved and going out is not something she does very often on her own, nor does she make new friends, and the romantic intentions that Jack had would be interrupted by Elsa, as has already happened.

"I have a plan"

"I don't know if I should worry about that too"

"Come on, when have my plans failed, Sunshine?"

"Don't answer that"

Now Jack's plans had to include Elsa, he had to find a way to distract her until they could have their romantic date at the end of the night.

So he started sending messages to his friends, trying to find out if someone could help him, until he heard a cat meowing at his apartment door, and with the cat his chance to save his anniversary with Rapunzel.

-Hiccup, thank God, I've never been so excited to see you here.-

His roommate and best friend was taking off his headphones to listen to his friend, whom he greeted with a hug as if they hadn't seen each other in days and was ready to ask him for a favor.

-Don't worry, I won't disturb you during your anniversary with Rapunzel-

-Wait, how do you know today is my anniversary?-

-You put your anniversary on every calendar in the department, even on my phone-

Jack omitted the topic and went back to their original conversation, he told him about Elsa and since he needed him to help distract her during the date with Rapunzel, he promised to do whatever it took to get him to accompany him, but Hiccup didn't seem interested in a double date.

Jack spent almost the next hour trying to get Hiccup to come with him, Hiccup, tired of listening to the pleas of his friend, agreed to help him.

Jack's plan had now had some changes to include his friends in the date, but the end would be the same.

Both friends were heading to their double date, Jack was held behind Hiccup as they were on his motorcycle, arriving Hiccup was already beginning to regret it, seeing that Jack had taken him to one of his and Rapunzel's favorite clubs, when he turned to see He looked at his friend with a smile from ear to ear, thanking him for the favor and raising his fist to collide with his friend's, who didn't respond and kept letting out a sigh.

Entering the club Jack sat at the bar next to Hiccup waiting for their dates, Jack soon found his girlfriend entering the same door they had entered, the excitement of seeing his girlfriend, that long blonde hair, those Green eyes that even from a distance sparkled like two emeralds, Jack couldn't resist it and got up to run to hug her and kiss her, as if days had passed since he hadn't seen her.

Their emotion were so much that they had even forgotten that Elsa was with their, she seemed somewhat uncomfortable seeing the displays of love from those lovers, but Jack, being someone kind, greeted her and invited both girls to greet his best friend, who seemed to be practicing how he was going to introduce himself.

After Hiccup greeted Rapunzel and was introduced to Elsa, Jack put his plan into action, talking to one of the DJs on the floor to play one of his and Rapunzel's favorite songs, to start dancing with his beloved.

-So... Elsa, right?-

-Yes… can I ask you something?-

"Yes, Hiccup is my real name..."

Jack, trusting in his friend's social skills, decided to stop worrying about them and enjoy the moment with his partner, watching a beautiful sunset and how the night began to rise, after 3 songs dancing like the first night they had gone out, Feeling that sensation of emotion, passion and fun that they felt every time they danced to those songs, no matter the weather or the time, much less their companions who seemed to barely speak to each other, Jack and Rapunzel were once again the kings of the dance floor, it seemed that they were doing a choreography or if they had practiced those steps for months, when in reality that is what happens when you find that person who complements you and you simply fit in, all your thoughts, emotions and movements seemed to be communicated in those looks that were given, even with the turns between them, those looks that were given transmitted more than a thousand words and it was enough to them to know what next move to make and at the exact moment.

After the third song and waiting for the next one, Jack just looked away to see how his friends were doing, it was a huge surprise to see his friend showing the girl something on his phone, that's when he knew that if he wanted his plan to that Elsa does not return home until they finished their anniversary night, he had to go rescue his friend, taking Rapunzel with him, with the excuse of wanting to drink her favorite drink, arriving at the bar with his friend he realized that he was showing her something similar to a 3D model or one of his engineering projects, "Damn, now I understand why Hiccup doesn't go out with girls more often" Jack said in his mind when he saw how his friend blocked his phone when he heard how his friends approached .

Jack ordered a round of cocktails of Rapunzel's favorite drink for the four of them, served by one of the waiters who was a friend of Rapunzel and Jack.

-They really are very social, aren't they?- Elsa asked surprised that they have met one of the waiters

-A little bit, yes- Hiccup replied, already accustomed to them having very good social skills.

The waiter's name was Mario, after greeting and congratulating his friends, he handed them their drinks and began celebrating their anniversary.

-I want to thank you my beloved Sunshine, for making my days even warmer, and my nights wonderful, I will never stop thanking God for the work of art he did with you, I love you and I don't need anything more than your love to live , Health-

Finishing his speech, the fourth of them drank their cocktails and the couple kissed, it seemed that the one who had been most affected by those words was Mario, who was almost crying with emotion, praising Jack's words.

Jack introduced him to his friends and told him to put as much as they drank in their account, Jack had a very good relationship with that club, and Mario went to get another round of drinks, coming back he had an accident and two of the cocktails that he was holding fell on Jack, causing the drink to soak Jack's shirt, ending with Jack and Rapunzel going to Rapunzel's car so Jack could go get another shirt.

Although everything was going perfectly for Jack and he simply put on another of the shirts that he had left in Rapunzel's car a long time ago, although it was very informal compared to how she was dressed, it was enough for what he needed, now the next destination was the Rapunzel's house for the penultimate step before culminating in the best anniversary.

But now it was time to enjoy the road and he continued with the music connecting his cell phone to the car to now play the songs they sang, Rapunzel seemed delighted to hear that song they had written and sung when their friendship became more romantic, she couldn’t help but remember those moments with Jack and while the traffic lights stopped them in a red color, both of them did not miss the opportunity to give each other a delicate kiss.

As the road to the house continued, so did those songs, going through memories of high school, pop music from the 00's, Latin and Korean songs that although Jack was out of tune and Rapunzel did not know the words, that did not stop them to continue singing and go from singing to laughing when the lyrics got too complicated and they were quiet or just humming the song.

When they arrived at Rapunzel's house, Jack offered to open the door for her, but she had to cover her eyes to receive the surprise, she did and when Jack asked her to open them, she saw a decoration full of red petals, flowers and lights. Dim lights and candles lit right in their living room so they could watch a movie, which Jack had picked out especially for today.

The plan was simple, it was a horror movie “Nightmare on the Elm's Street”, so Jack just had to watch the movie until the guy with the sweater and funny hat showed up, Rapunzel would be scared, Jack would be there to protect her and the result It would end in a night of love.

What Jack didn't expected was that the movie was more terrifying than he thought, while he didn't let go of Rapunzel and hugged her tightly, she looked like she was watching a comedy movie, and she was having fun while hugging Jack back. and ate popcorn.

While Jack was grounded by the sights and sounds, he felt like a listening engine was so close to them, as if it were real, but in the movie there was no engine, or something like that, Jack's heart seemed like it was going to stop when he thought he heard a door open, which fit the scene in the movie, but he had never felt so afraid or something like that when the lights in the room came on, Jack let out a shrill cry of terror instantly, as if everything had been contained the time to let it out.

Hiccup and Elsa were next to the switch and just as scared as Jack or at least surprised by such a cry.

-Men yell like that, sometimes...- Jack tried to defend his pride in front of Rapunzel, while she paused the movie and watched her friends.

-Guys, what are you doing here? What happened to the club?-

-Too noisy- Elsa answered.

-Elsa doesn't like to drink, and she said that she had things to buy, so I went with her and we bought ingredients to make some basics pizzas- Hiccup said

-Why were you watching a horror movie? It's November- Elsa asked when she saw the movie the couple was watching

Rapunzel explained to them that Jack wanted to see her, but Jack was still hugging Rapunzel and it seemed that he just wanted the movie to end, seeing that the eyes were positioned on him, he stopped hugging Rapunzel and nodded his head.

Hiccup invited them to share the pizza and they agreed, Rapunzel got up and offered to help Hiccup with the pizza, but was stopped by Elsa, who went ahead to help Hiccup and take him to the kitchen, something that surprised Rapunzel and drew a smile on her face.

Jack was sad because he felt that his plan had failed and it wouldn't be a good anniversary like the other times, until Rapunzel's angel voice did his magic to change the boy's mood.

-This is the best plan you've ever had-

Jack was confused by the words

-We got to dance to our song in our favorite place, drunk and you say so beautiful words, you made me feel like a teenager again by sneaking out and singing our songs, Elsa was able to make a new friend and you haven't stopped hugging me since the movie started-

-I like to hug you- Jack answered and hugged his girlfriend again and then kissed her on the lips in a sweet and romantic way, until a strange noise caught their attention, it was the laughter of Hiccup and Elsa from the kitchen which they didn't they couldn't help but laugh at Jack's yell when they got there.

-I can hear you guys!- Said Jack to his friends trying to save a bit of his ego.

After the laughter of his friends were diminishing, Rapunzel offered him to change the movie, Jack, although somewhat embarrassed, accepted, and they put on a movie that they both chose.

With a new movie ready, Hiccup came out with 2 hot pizzas, and Elsa came downstairs, changed into a more comfortable outfit.

Hiccup sat next to his friends and saw his friend next to him and now he was the one who raised his fist in front of Jack and they both bumped their fists

-Happy anniversary, sunshine,- said Jack.

-Happy anniversary, snowflake- Rapunzel replied.

[neverthatsirius-jo]

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓

summary — after the halloween night incident, a misunderstanding leads to a fight, which consequently leads to your first kiss with spencer.

content — bau!reader x spencer reid, fluff, friends to lovers, there’s only one bed oh nooo, arguing and some jealousy, reader is a bit mean in this one and is still scared of feelings.

word count — 4.2k

a/n — moral of the story: if i ever give a posting date, add to that three to five business day. also the case in this one is inspired by s05e21, and there’s another part inspired by s04e09. some pieces of dialogue are from those episodes too. i can’t look at this fic anymore because i edited it a hundred times and then i realized that i had been mixing past and present tense!! fun!! and also i'm fighting the urge to re-write both this one and the first part in present tense. i don’t know which i like better yet. we’ll see. i’m so sorry about the title puns. i cannot escape them. if i left the wrong tense somewhere, i’m sorry, my brain is fried. this turned out to be much longer than i expected (that's what she said sorry)

← part one

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“𝐖𝐎𝐖...”

You were standing in front of a wooden cabin, surrounded by snow, and you could make out the back scenery full of pine trees delightfully adorned with the same white that covered the ground beneath your feet. You smiled resignedly at the ironic timing, not at the circumstances that had brought you there, as you stood by the door with your team. Spencer by your side, of course. Like always, but not quite.

You hadn’t been trying to ignore him the entire week. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself, anyone who asked, and Spencer himself the few times he’d asked if something was amiss.

It had been a busy week, you felt awkward after what had happened on Halloween, even more so by his silence about it, and you just weren’t as inclined to initiate conversation like usual. No matter this, Spencer had treated you normally, or as normally as you’d let him, all week despite the lingering awkwardness that you both carried since the Halloween get-together fiasco.

You were in the small—the population no more than fifteen hundred people—fishing town of Franklin, Alaska. The sheriff had called for the team’s assistance to help with the investigation of a series of murders that had been committed in the span of that same week. He had taken the time also to personally show you to where you’d be staying. A cabin of considerable size made of dark wooden logs with a big white sign that read ‘Karen’s Tavern’ in tall, brown letters.

“We have four of the upstairs rooms available,” the woman that had all but rolled her eyes at you when you tried to offer her a smile when you came in announced.

“Four?” Spencer asked. The same woman offered him a ‘what can you do?’ smile. Of course. It was your turn to roll your eyes then.

“Come on, that’s the best we can do,” Sheriff Rhodes said. “Your team is double the size of my department.”

They both bid their goodbyes and let your team to decide on room assignments before you had to meet at the station. 

“I’m not sleeping with Reid,” Morgan was the first to speak up. Penelope quickly claimed him to be her roommate for the night, slapping her hand onto his.

After Penelope everyone started partnering up before you could even open your mouth to say anything. JJ got with Emily, Hotch with Rossi, and everyone kind of assumed you and Spencer would be sharing. You accepted your faith silently and, with Spencer close behind, brought your suitcases up to your room. You didn’t spare it a glance; you left your luggage behind the door and trotted back down the stairs to listen to what your assignments would be.

“You three.” Hotch pointed to Morgan, Spencer, and finally to you. “I want you to go talk to the bar owner’s daughter. She was the last person to see or to talk to our last victim. She may have noticed something weird, heard a conversation…”

You three nodded at the same time and wasted no time before going out into the cold with a small map you had grabbed from the tavern’s counter in hand.

You chose to walk in silence while Morgan and Spencer bantered their way to the bar, preferring to relish on the crunch sound the snow made with every step you took and nothing else. The same cold that gave way to the snow didn’t take long to get to you as you quickly realized your button-up shirt wasn’t ideal for the climate. Spencer noticed it too, giving you a sideways glance when he heard your teeth clattering. Not breaking up conversation he took off his coat and placed it on your shoulders. With things being awkward as is, you accepted it with a nod and put your arms through it silently.

When you got to the bar the first thing you noticed, and felt, was the chimney to the left that hosted a warm, welcoming fire. It prompted you to give Spencer his coat back. There were quite a few people, most sitting on stools at the large wooden bar, at that time of day. You hadn’t even finished taking your coat off when a young woman approached the three of you—although she was clearly more interested in talking to Morgan; not even sparing a glance at you or Spencer—to ask Morgan if he was the one leading the investigation, and asking him questions about it and the job. For a moment you thought she might be the owner’s daughter you were supposed to talk to, but as the questions seemed to grow more personal and less about the investigation you took a quick look at the bar, where there was a woman preparing drinks, and realized she wasn’t. Forgetting your little ignoring game for a second, you side-eyed Spencer who was turning his head to you, at the exact same time. You both suppressed a smile and stepped to the side to let Morgan do his thing, pretending to look at your map.

Once they’d finished—and Morgan had politely rejected her number—he turned around, his trademark charming smile still on his face.

“How?” Spencer asked.

“What?” Morgan asked back, following the girl with his eyes as she left the establishment behind you. He only returned his eyes to Spencer when you heard the bell chime.

“Every case, you get at least one girl’s number.”

“I didn’t get it,” Morgan corrected.

“And she’ll be crying over it tonight, I’m sure,” you teased as you folded and pocketed the map.

“You know what, pretty boy?” He lifted his index finger. “I bet you could get the bartender to give you her number.”

Both you and Spencer turned rapidly to look at him surprised.

“Ha ha. Funny,” Spencer said.

“Trust.” He wrapped his arm around Spencer’s shoulder, leaning in like he was about to let him in on a secret. “When you’re talking, what makes you feel like an expert?”

Spencer didn’t have to think much before answering. “Statistics.”

“Well, that’s not gonna cut it. Something else.”

“Well—when I do magic?” Spencer answered, doubtfully. You watched the conversation like you would a tennis match. Except this wasn’t as entertaining and you didn’t know how to ease the frown on your face.

“See? That’s nice. Chicks dig magic,” Morgan said, nodding his head with a smile. “Now come on. Go and do some magic.” He grabbed Spencer by the shoulders and sent him in direction to the bar with an encouraging pat to his back.

Your frown deepened as you turned to Derek. “What are you doing? We’re working.”

“Uh-huh, and if pretty boy over there succeeds she’ll be more predisposed to giving us information.” He squinted his eyes. “What? You’re jealous?”

“What? No!” You responded. Too quickly, judging by Derek’s all-knowing smile.

Not able to tear your eyes from where your friend was performing one of his classic magic tricks, you rolled your eyes as the girl took out a dollar bill from her barrette wide-eyed. She flashed him a beautiful smile as she handed Spencer the bottle of water he was buying.

“Why do you look like you’re going to start blowing smoke out of your ears then?”

But you weren’t listening anymore. “What’s there to talk about so much?”

“Hello?”

“I mean this is a serious case; there are four people dead. What are they laughing about? Come on.” You crossed your arms, tearing your eyes away from the scene.

“Hey!”

“What?!” You finally snapped your head back to look at him.

“I was talking to you. You’re in your own world.”

You sighed, trapping the air as it came out into a pout. “Sorry.”

“You know it’d be so much easier for everyone if you both stopped being so goddamn stubborn. Kid over there is head over heels for you and from where I’m standing right here it looks like you are too. What the hell are you both playing at?”

A horrible, stupid blush crept from your neck up to the very point of your years. Though everyone always joked, and teased, and alluded, no one had ever been so direct about the subject. “It’s none of your business,” you murmured, rubbing your forearms in search of some form of heat you didn’t need to keep your hands busy.

“You got me there.” He shrugged. “Just think about it.”

Just as Morgan was finishing with his lecture, Spencer came back with the bottle of water in his hands and a dumb smile plastered across his face.

“You saw that?” He asked Derek, beaming proudly.

“Sure I did.” He eyed you, but you pretended not to notice as you looked away. “I told you, you could do it.”

“Okay, now. What about the victim? Did she give you anything useful or were you just thirsty?” you cut them off, trying not to be too harsh with your tone.

The lack of response from him as he took a few seconds to compose himself was enough to tell you had failed. You decided you were going to bite your tongue for the evening and that you did, speaking no more than was necessary as you spent the rest of the day carrying out Hotch’s orders and focusing your mind completely on solving the case. You would have plenty of time to wallow in your self-pity when you got to your room.

You weren’t really upset about the flirting per se. It had never bothered you before. You understood your feelings weren’t a set of laws he had to abide by so as to not hurt them; much less when he didn’t even know about them. There had been plenty of times in the eight years you had known him where girls swarmed to his side, batting their eyelashes, and giving him compliments. You didn’t mind watching them drool over him, you couldn’t blame them and you would have been a hypocrite to do so. He was mostly none the wiser to all of it but that’s not why you didn’t mind. You just weren’t overly jealous, much less in cases like this.

He even had been on a date last year. He had told you about it, before and after, and you had helped him ignoring any kind of negative feelings that may have brought up. But you had never, ever, felt how you did right now.

A horrible, confusing mixture of anger, upset, and betrayal, which was unwarranted if you took into account you weren’t anything other than friends. You guessed it was your fault for stupidly thinking there was a silent ‘yet’ addendum to the ‘no more than friends’ now after what had happened last week, the way he had looked at you, the way he’d had you in his arms. 

You weren’t expecting him to ignore the subject completely. Sure, he wasn’t ignoring you in the way you were him, but in your mind you couldn’t help but think that he was just playing with you that night last week. That he had figured you out and wanted to test his theory; to test if you really had the silly schoolgirl-like crush he had come to conclude you had. Scientific method or whatever. 

In your heart, in your soul you knew that couldn’t be the truth. Spencer wasn’t capable of being that cruel; not to anyone but especially not to you. But not finding any logic to his attitude—not even after replaying the moment in your mind over and over again obsessively—you had thrown yours out the window too.

You kept your silence even as you reached the room you’d be sharing, as you held the door for him to come in after you, and as you started unpacking some of your things for the next day.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, once you’d finish violently folding your fifth piece of clothing atop the bed.

You thought it would be a bit weird—not to mention rude—to not respond, so you finally broke the silence. “Me? I’m perfectly fine. You?”

He kept quiet while he watched you finish taking everything out of your carry-on.

“I asked you a question and I’d like a real answer.” He was still a few steps from the door beside his own suitcase. “I thought we were better than this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You turned around, squinting your eyes, challenging him to respond.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked first.”

“Oh, my god.” He interlaced his fingers on top of his head and spun around to turn his back on you.

You grabbed the pile of folded clothing, with such force that you scrapped any folding you had done, making them a ball of wrinkly clothes again. You still went ahead and threw them in the small drawer that Spencer wasn’t using.

“Why are you upset?” He tried again, once he had regained some patience.

“I’m not.”

“The clothes would beg to disagree.”

That broke you a little bit. You turned around to not give in and show him the tiniest—not so tiny—hint of a smile. It wasn’t even that funny but he had that effect.

“I just wanna solve this case.”

“We’ve solved worse.” He said; he was right. “Was it something I did?”

You turned to look at him ready to snap with a sarcastic comment again, but all you saw was sincerity in his eyes. It wasn’t just because you were profilers that you could read each other like a book. You knew he wasn’t playing dumb, much less playing games.

You sighed. “No, Spencer. Just let it go, okay?”

“I don’t want to. You’ve been weird the entire time since we got here. It’s almost like you want nothing to do with me.” His voice was soft. “That not to mention this entire week.” He sounded hurt.

“I’m sure you can drown your sorrows at the bar when this is all over, Spencer.” You hated yourself for just having to throw the snarky comment his way. “Maybe you’ll get free drinks.” So mature of you, to bottle it all up, to be so scared of communicating your own feelings that it all becomes a ticking time bomb for whoever’s had the bad luck to cross your path.

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The bartender. Didn’t she give you her number? I gotta say the dollar magic trick is quite the charmer, Spencer.” Once you had started, you couldn’t stop though. You had to cough up the venom that was consuming you inside.

“I didn’t take it. We’re working a case.”

“Ah, yes. We are now.” You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth and went back to the drawer to fold your clothes again. You needed to keep yourself busy with something.

“What? Is that what you’re mad about?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded incredulous.

“Why would I be?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” You asked mockingly.

“No it doesn’t. Especially considering I’m not the one who sprinted out of the kitchen.” The sentence out of context threw you off for just a few seconds. You snorted when you caught on.

“Sorry?”

He snickered back. “Don’t play dumb.”

“Emily was calling me!” You pointed to a wall in the room, as if Emily had been there.

“Yeah! And you were really eager to respond!” He nodded along as he spoke, eyes wide.

You wanted to lie, to laugh in his face, and pretend he was speaking nonsense. You couldn’t. Not to him, not with anything. You opted for silence.

“You didn’t say anything the next day, you seemed uncomfortable; I didn’t want to push you to talk about it, I just took your silence as a way to gently reject me, which is fine!”

You blinked; you were now even more confused.

“I don’t know what today was. I don’t really do that st—Morgan was just… being Morgan.”

You shook your head. “You think I rejected you?”

He shook his head back, mirroring you. “Not saying anything after I tried to make the first move, wouldn’t you consider that a rejection?”

“What first move?”

“Come on.” He tilted his head, eyes pleading for you to let down your walls and speak your mind.

“I thought you were trying to hug me. Maybe you needed a hug.”

“If you thought it was only a hug, how come it was your first thought when I said first move?”

He didn’t need the 187 IQ to figure that out, but you cursed it in your mind anyway.

“You mentioned it first, maybe you forgot.”

“No, I didn’t. I have an eidetic memory.”

You could curse that now. “Maybe it’s not as fool proof as you thought.”

“We’re getting derailed.”

“Point still stands, I never said anything about rejecting you.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to say something.”

“Well, say something now.” You’d never heard this kind of rawness in his voice. He was almost begging you to say something; not what he wanted to hear, just something. “Did you? Want me to kiss you?”

Having him put it into words made you want to cringe and curl up in a ball and hide underneath the sheets not to come out again until the team had to get back to Virginia. You froze.

“I—” You licked your lips. A nervous tick. “I don’t know.”

He mirrored your action. You don’t know how but he kept his eyes on you. You couldn’t.

“That’s fine,” he says after a few seconds.

You both stood still, frozen in time. You looking at the floor, him at the ceiling. After some time of unbearable silence—not the kind you take refuge in—you decided playing statues was making matters worse so you decided to start preparing for bed like nothing was happening. He didn’t follow, still stuck to the same spot you left him in, until after you had come out of the bathroom and buried yourself under the sheets.

You didn’t address the obvious issue; the singular, smaller than you’d wish bed. You only did so when you caught him walking away with his pillow in direction to the armchair in the corner of the room out of the corner of your eye. You sacrificed the warmth of the comforter and silently made your way over to him. He looked up at you. He didn’t do it intentionally, you knew, but he looked up at you like a kicked puppy. You extended your hand, he hesitated for a moment before taking it and you ushered him to the side of the bed you’d decided was his. You pushed him down, throwing him on the bed to then go back to your side trying to suppress your smile. You got in facing away from him.

“I don’t mind sleeping in th—” he started.

“Shut up.”

“You.”

You smiled. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was too.

The silence that followed left way for all you wanted to say to him and couldn’t seem to. You cursed yourself in your mind. ‘I don’t know?’ Of course you knew. You wanted to turn around and kiss him senseless until you couldn’t anymore and had to give your irritated lips a break. You also knew though, you weren’t one to change ways when something worked. You and Spencer worked; at least you used to.

The mental image of him at the bar, with the owner’s daughter, came back to your mind. You wanted to scream. At yourself mostly. You didn’t have any right to act like you just did. In a way, he was right. He had taken the first step, and all your subsequent actions were of rejection, even if that wasn’t what you had meant to do.

“Spence,” you called. “I’m going to say something and don’t interrupt me because if you do I will take a silence oath for life.”

He smiled as you turned around, tangling the sheets. “Okay.”

“I didn’t ignore you because I wanted to let you down gently. I ignored you because I was scared. I care about us, and I’m stupidly bad at relationships but I like you. I have for years, maybe even longer than you have. As more than a friend.”

He listened, nodding along awkwardly, his head on his hand, and his lips pursed into a tight line, to signal that he had no intentions of interrupting.

“I saw you with the bar girl and all of a sudden I wanted to change career paths and become an unsub myself, which is really unfair because you didn’t do anything. I know this is all my fault. I know that my not talking issue led to all of this and I really didn’t want to ignore you but—this is what I am, Spencer, and if you want to curse me out for being so goddamn stupid and kick me out, that’s fine. I’ll have Garcia let me sleep on the floor,” you half-joked. You were out of breath, and your face was all red and hot to the touch.

“You done?”

You nodded.

“Firstly, this is not entirely your fault. I didn’t say anything either and since I know how you are, I could’ve.”

You wanted to contradict him but he had respected your time talking so you wanted to do that for him too.

“Secondly, I don’t think you’re stupid. And if you call yourself stupid for that then you’re also calling me stupid, in which case I feel offended.”

Your smile turned downwards.

“Thirdly… I’m going to kiss you now. That okay?”

You pushed past the knee-jerk instinct to want to push him away and nodded.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours in the gentlest kiss you’ve ever been given. It had no right giving you the same adrenaline kick that you get on a rollercoaster. Just a chaste peck on the lips. Lips meeting lips for the first time.

‘Hi, it’s good to finally meet.’      

‘I know.’

It brings you back to the innocence of not having been kissed and the butterflies in your stomach as you sit next to your crush in a circle at a friend’s birthday party.

‘I don’t really know what I’m doing but I like you and this is what people do when they like each other.’

He backed up to scan your face. You were still leaning forward, dazed. You felt so much you wanted to scream. Or at least run and jump around the room to waste some of the energy that you felt coursing through your veins, tickling you. You didn’t do that, though.

You all but threw yourself at him, he had to grab you by your elbows, to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, hungry, wanting. If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have taken him more than the two seconds it did to match your fervid rhythm.

‘I’ve not stopped wanting you for a second all these years and I’m sorry I let you believe otherwise.’

He gently went moving his hand up to your neck, right below your jaw, thumb on your cheek with the rest of his fingers below your ear, slowly guiding you to a more leisured pace.

‘We have time’

He smiled against the kiss. 

You didn’t speak another word that night. You fell asleep soon after, there had been a lot of work to do the next day and before being two idiots in love, you were profilers. His hand laid on top of yours, where it belonged. No matter how many times your hands let go throughout the night, they made sure to meet again before your alarm woke you up. You didn’t let go when you stepped out of bed, stretching your arms until you were only attached by your pinky fingers, trying not to trip. You had to inevitably separate when you changed out of your sleeping clothes but you joined them again to walk down the stairs to the lobby to meet the team.

“Well, well. Would you look at that.” Morgan raised an eyebrow. He’d always been the one to tease you both the most. Following a close behind was Garcia, who was trying to suppress a smile beside him. In his mind he probably thought his words to you had made this happen. Maybe they had. Now it was your turn to figure out what ‘this’ was.

You stuck your tongue out to him behind Hotch’s back. 

You couldn’t even remember what the fight you’d had the previous night had been about or why you’d eluded him the whole week. Maybe communicating wasn’t so bad nor were your feelings a thing to be so scared of. The world hadn’t fallen apart yet, and you couldn’t say you would have minded it in that moment, with Spencer caressing your hand with his thumb.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are appreciated <3

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[ambyandony]

>> Hello everyone its atreyu here!

>>to share with you my jojos bizarre adventure OC and the stand I made since people were interested! please excuse any typos, I’m a little unsteady, i tried to double-check in the big paragraphs :-)

Name: Anastas Maxwell P. (nicknamed "Stace")

Pronouns: he/him

Age: about 22

>> his eyes are dark blue or maybe grey I'm not sure

>> has had many romantic partners but currently single

>> bipolar sufferer (type I i think)

>> has tattoos but tries to hide them

>> bird and angel imagery enjoyer, scared of roosters

>> goes to the club with his lesbian best friend (who is also his wingman) and sometimes cries at the bar

>> he feels like shes the only one who hasn't legt him or gotten sick of him so he kind of acts like... i guess the word is 'simp', for her

>> people often think he has a romantic interest in her because of it and some have even attacked him for it because shews a lesbian and doesn't date men but shss really not ven his type

>> kind of hates the nickname stace/stacy but it's the only one he's ever really been called

>> his mother is slavic and he speaks a little bit of the language he picked up from her (im not sure which specifically)

>> his other parental figure is of nordic or finnic descent but again not sure where specifically, and they're a generation removed (was born in whatever country anastas was born and presumably raised in and has less cultural ties to the heritage)

>> has a bunch of s[tik] lying around his room from stints of trying new things and then losing interest

>> has a roommate (not the best friend) but they don't exactly get along all the time

>> can't afford things because hes very prone to impulse purchases

>> barely holding on to his current job and its killing him

>> can survive in fistfights and stand fights. doesn't mean he wins or is good though

>> tends to turn up somewhere looking really bruised and can't seem to remember why when asked

>> makes a lot of bad decisions

>> stays with his best friend sometimes

>> likes to wear a lot of makeup

Second Wind

>> This is Anastas' stand second wind!!

>> It's sort of a stand that uses mistakes as an advantage, let me elaborate

>> If you (as in the user) fail an intended action, it lets you "try again", like if you hypothetically throw something at someone and miss; it doesn't undo the action but gives you another thing to throw and the same opportunity to throw it without the target moving away. So how I described it was: what it does is "double" an action with different results, so it sort of overlaps two "times". When you throw the thing at that person and miss, it "rewinds" it to let you try again, but the second try overlaps with the first, so it looks like you only did it once because both instances occurred at the same time even though it had two results. So the first object, the one that was originally thrown, misses and goes wherever it initially landed, and the second object, duplicated from the first by the Stand's time-cloning ability, will hit the person at the same time (assuming your second throw actually hits this time!)

That's just an example, of course. It works in a lot of different ways. For example, going off the previous example, if you were aiming for a specific part of someone's body, missed that spot, but still hit the person, you still get a second throw, so both objects (the original and the duplicate) will hit at the same time. It works similarly with throwing punches, but before I get to that...

It can't duplicate entire people. However, it can still allow a retry of any individual action failed by the User; if you trip and fall, you get a retry on the step you failed to make. If this happens, you still sustain any injury you got from the fall, but at least you don't look clumsy! (and you're not on the ground) So it can't necessarily save you from injury, but it's good for recovering your footing, like when in a fight. There's one exception, though: if the injury would have been fatal (like if you, say, lost your balance and fell onto something sharp), and you manage to avoid it on the second try, then you'll still sustain the same kind of injury at a reduced severity (you would have been impaled and died but now you've just got a hole/puncture wound in your midsection and it hurts real bad). You'll probably still need to get to a hospital, but you'll survive, so the Stand can save its User's life.

Now, going back to the other thing I was saying, Second Wind's ability can also be used to double attacks as well as objects, which makes it theoretically pretty useful... but only when you're, well, kind of bad at things? Since it only works when you fail. Of course, you can't intentionally miss an attack or fumble something to try and get a double-shot or duplicate; failing was your intention, so you still succeeded. Failed successfully! And successfully failed at activating the Stand... Because of his ability's specific activation prerequisites, Anastas has developed a quirk where, when in a fight, he announces where he's aiming, where he's going/trying to punch. He feels that it raises his chances of doubling an attack, as it clearly establishes his intention and makes it obvious when he's missed his mark.

Even if Anastas learns ways to fight better, like better stances or the like, he usually intentionally forgoes those tactics and effectively 'shuts off' his brain during a brawl in order to fight worse; it's because doubling punches can be really useful... especially since he's developed his habit of announcing his intentions in pretty much any combat situation, which makes his actual intended punches kind of easy to block or dodge since you know where he's aiming. On the other hand, the more you block and dodge, the more likely he is to hit you twice, and since he has Second Wind also, this adds up to a potential 3 simultaneous punches from him in a fight. Anastas walks into the ring and says, 'I'm throwing', proceeds to throw, and wins by doing so.

Second Wind is able to hold its own in normal combat but has a better defence stat than power stat, presumably thanks to its armour, so they usually hit a lot right away to try and get the fight done quick because they're not good at actually fighting when it comes down to it.

>> and thats all I have on Anastas! as for the lesbian best friend i don't really know much about her i don't know if shes a stand user or not all i really know is shes a lesbian (and probably has dyed maybe really short hair). i kind of originally left it open ended when i first talked about anastas like 'if anyone wants to make the best friend feel free' and i still don't really have any ideas for her so...

>> Please enjoy!!! - atreyu

[glossycloutwhore]

Tw:SA

Not finally processing the time that my 25 male roommate tried to coerce me into walking into the living room during sex while his girlfriend/my best friend a SA survivor was blindfolded unknowingly on the couch. Not us having to live there another month and then her continuing to date him and bring him around our new place for another six months. Not them being upset cause my partner didn’t want to go on double dates with them. Not them finally breaking up and him stalking us for two months. It’s over but now he’s dating an eighteen year old I guess :)

[grungelevi]

imagine..

getting a notification, at work, of the fire alarm going off at your home. So you immediately facetime Levi, who lived with you in your shared apartment.

He picks up and you see Hange in the background with a bucket of water on their head before pouring it over the dinner table.

“hey the fire alarms went off.. is uh— everything okay Levi?”

to this Levi sighs and smacks his hand on his face. “it’s taken care of. don’t worry- get back to work”

“mhm, and what is Hange doing with our goldfish?” You said trying to zoom in on the tall figure on your screen.

Levi turned around, “Hange! put the fish bowl down!!”

“but water — oh HEY is that Y/n?” Hange paused, keeping the fish bowl back on the side table and waving. you chuckled quietly and waved back. “wait she isn’t supposed to know about the surprise right Levi?”

“four eyes, shut up!” your boyfriend growled, taking his phone, and you, into another room. You couldn’t help but laugh at the commotion. you were not sure of what was happening, why Hange was at your house and how a fire got started. Though a fire starting in Hange’s presence made sense.

“Babe what’s going on?”

Levi sighed setting his phone on the dresser to stand, before he replied. “you’ve been working hard at work and i just thought—“ he cut himself off thinking of the disaster that just took place. “i wanted to surprise you with a… a romantic dinner at home and i had asked Hange for help, which at the time seemed like a good idea. i’m sorry”

your mouth was left slightly open hearing of the gesture he attempted to do. Levi Ackerman, who you had been friends with for years, been dating for months and roommates for THREE weeks. He who was not quite great with grand gestures, wanted to make you a candle night dinner at home just so you could have some stress free time away from work. you could cry.

“you’re sorry? what for? that’s the sweetest thing. babe you really didn’t have to, thank you soso much,” you said quickly.

to this his frown that had been there since he picked up (and only got deeper) finally lifted. he took a breath of relief, “really? everything was going so well too but then Hange tried to light the candles and… now we need new table cloth”

you giggled once again, “we can get new table cloth don’t worry, i am however curious about what you got for dinner”

“well my love, i made dinner myself but you’ll have to come home and find out what it is”

“uh huh i might just give my remaining work to Eren and Jean and be home, i don’t know, 20 minutes?“ you began speaking teasingly and then pouted as you thought.

“30. i have to kick a tall vagabond out of our kitchen.” Our kitchen. in our home. together. “y/n you sure you’re okay with giving your work to the rookies? i know how much effort you put in and i don’t want anyone to ruin your hard work”

“they can handle a few reports, plus Mikasa and Armin will be there to double check. besidessss i have more important matters to attend to, like how my boyfriend was so desperately in need of romantic help, he called Hange Zoë” you said, once again intending to tease your partner.

“i’m hanging up—“

“no i’m sorry i’m sorry. i really do appreciate it Levi, and i’ll show you how much.”

“yeah i mean, if you want, you don’t have to” he scratched his head avoiding looking at his phone

“i’ll be home soon, thank you Levi”

he gave you a quick smile and nodded, “drive safe”

“don’t start anymore fires.”

“no promises” he smirked then picked up his phone again.

“see you soon, love you”

“love you too, bye”

after you both hung up - neither of you realised - until you were both home, that was the first time the two of you had said the ‘L word’ to one another. it came out so naturally that it fit and didn’t phase the other.