#anyway the one silver lining is I have???? the week after next week??? as holiday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nctsworld · 4 years ago

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the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

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strawwritesfic · 3 years ago

Text

Eddie Brock x Female!Reader: Carols

Summary: Who knew caroling could be such a dangerous occupation?

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (crass humor; past!Eddie/Anne; not anti-Anne; Venom ships Eddie/Anne)

Challenge: "25 days of Christmas" Challenge by Sweet-n-Chaotic on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Note: I have never seen Venom.

Carols

“This is stupid, Eddie.”

“You’ve said that about a thousand times now.”

“It’s only getting more stupid the longer we sit here. We are bored.”

“You’ve said that about a thousand times, too.”

“If you do not get up right now and find us something to eat, we will eat your kidneys instead.”

For all his other faults—not the least of which was his penchant for speaking aloud to the symbiote that shared his body—Eddie Brock was rather attached to his kidneys. He stood from his park bench with a sigh. Feeding Venom was more important than stalking a woman who didn’t even know him.

“That’s right. Can’t even bring yourself to talk to her. You’re still just a—”

“You’re just sore that she isn’t Anne,” Eddie interrupted.

Venom’s sulky silence was admission enough. With this victory in his pocket, Eddie took one last look at the group of carolers he’d been listening to. He stopped short upon catching sight of the woman at the front of the group. You didn’t notice him staring at you; you hadn’t once since he’d started coming to that park just to listen to your group sing, and that had been nearly a week ago.

As he watched on, the last lines of Silent Night floated through the night air. Some polite applause issued from several onlookers. Slowly, your chorus disbanded until Eddie realized with a great jolt that you remained alone in the middle of the park.

“No! We refuse!” Venom shrieked.

“I’m just gonna talk to her. What’s the harm in that?”

“We do not like her. And we are still hungry. She’s leaving anyway. Probably didn’t want to get stuck talking to you.”

He was right: you had turned on the spot and headed up the path toward a distant street. You were gone. Again. For the sixth night in a row, Eddie had failed to so much as introduce himself. Venom laughed gleefully.

“Christmas is tomorrow. No chances left. What a pity. Perhaps if you had larger balls?”

Eddie’s heart sank a little. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Christmas was the next day. There would be no reason for you to show up at this park anymore. Caroling season would be over. As pathetic as he was, he also wasn’t comfortable with the idea of making stalking you a holiday tradition either. If you hadn’t seen him stopping to listen all these past few nights, you never would.

But Eddie noticed that something had followed you up the sidewalk: a dark shape slipping past the pools of light left by the park’s lampposts. You turned a corner and vanished from view. Whoever it was following you did so, too. He didn’t even think as he started his pursuit.

“Eddie!”

“Don’t worry. I think I can get you something a little more interesting to eat tonight than leftover spaghetti.”

Eddie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walked swiftly after you. No one stopped him. Maybe they hadn’t noticed him lingering around the part lately either—or they were just massively unobservant. The person following you hadn’t been spotted after all. Had whoever it was been watching you, too? He didn’t think so. Surely he (or Venom) would have noticed that.

“We do not care enough about your ‘traditions’ to keep track of who is participating in them,” Venom hissed.

Still, he didn’t make any attempt to stop Eddie’s pursuit. A sort of electric excitement buzzed through Eddie’s veins. It wasn’t hard to see why: The farther they went from the park, the darker things got. This was not a good part of town, and the symbiote could feel it in the air—or perhaps smell the weeks’ worth of garbage rotting in the bins they strode past. Eddie had to concentrate very hard on what he was doing to prevent Venom from throwing them into the nearest dumpster.

A flash of silver in an alley up ahead had Eddie sprinting. He didn’t think. He just acted. In seconds, he had tackled the man to the alley. The knife in the man’s hand went scuttling down the chipped cement.

“Hey, man, what the hell?” the man said.

“Leave her alone!” Eddie said.

“I was just gonna mug her! What the hell do you care?”

Okay, so the idiot wasn’t Venom meat. That much was clear. He was a clueless kid, by the looks of things. Pimples dotted his pasty skin. Eddie opened his mouth to tell him something trite—like “mugging is wrong, that’s why”—but before he could, the symbiote took over.

“Because! We! Said so!”

Shrieking filled the air, echoing off the stone walls around them. The kid wrenched himself away from Venom without stopping for breath, then took off back the way he’d come, leaving the knife where it had fallen.

“Thanks,” Eddie said, “for not eating him.”

“She isn’t worth the effort,” Venom replied.

“I—”

“Hello? Is everything all right back here? I heard screaming.”

Eddie froze, for right into the dark alley came the last person he had expected to see: you. You froze, too. Then you walked straight up to him.

“Hey, I know you,” you said brightly.

“You…you do?”

“Yeah. You’ve come to our last few sets.” Eddie heaved a sigh of relief upon finding he had his own face still in place. “Were you…trying to follow me home?”

“No! Absolutely not! I just…was walking home myself. It’s a complete coincidence.”

“Really,” you said, then you turned back the way you’d come. “Well, then, would you mind walking me home on your way? Never know what danger someone can get into when it’s dark like this.”

“N—”

“I’d love to,” said Eddie.

So stalking was wrong. It had got him this far, hadn’t it? No matter what Venom said, Eddie counted getting this far as a definite win, especially since it seemed that you had noticed him after all.

103 notes · View notes

milkiane · 4 years ago

Text

revelations and confessions

pairings: regulus black x reader

warnings: mentions of food, mention of abuse, manipulative parents, getting tied up, jily, implied wolfstar

word count: 5548

note: for @rcwenaclaw’s writing challenge — this is my favorite fic so far <3 s/o to @iwritesiriusly and @hellounicorn for listening to me rant and and rave about y/n and reggie, u’re the best mwah

“... and you would be married to the crowned heir of grimmauld by the end of the month,” your father declared.

if you have been listening to what you’ve been blindly agreeing to, you would have had the opportunity to assert your own appraisals of the sudden betrothal.

you choked on your food, earning concerned gasps and theatrical pats by the maids, “‘m fine, ‘m fine,”

your parents stared at you with iffy looks as you cleared your throat, “i thought we’ve agreed years ago that i wouldn’t be betrothed to some high-strung bloke i’ve never met before?”

your mother pursed her lips before giving you a well-mannered response, “well, dear, we ought to make some amends with that agreement,”

you just stared at her with a blank expression so she continued, “and we believe that it would be for the amelioration of our country, considering that the blacks are quite exceptional and-”

“and rich?” you smiled derisively, cutting her off.

your father looked around the royal maids and guards around the dining room, “may you excuse us for a moment?” to which they nodded and left.

he sighed, “look, y/n, i’m aware that you’re upset-”

you scoffed, “i am more than upset, father. you agreed that i will be married on my own time, on my own accord,”

“and i am the king, you ought to meet my commands.” your father bellowed, slamming the silver utensils on the table, making you and your mother flinch.

he cleared his throat, calming himself down, “tell your matron to arrange your attire for this week, we must meet the blacks tomorrow evening at the grand chateau, and i shan’t hear any more complaints.”

“yes, father,” you mumbled, excusing yourself from the table to make your way towards your bedroom, eyes becoming glassy from the upcoming tears.

you arrived at the chateau a few hours before the royal gathering with the blacks, meaning you would have enough time to devise an escape plan.

you haven’t spoken to your parents unless you’re absolutely required to, you know that you shouldn’t be disobeying them, but they should have known from just acknowledging your mindset and behavior.

you weren’t the usual prim and proper princess, no. you are your own person, you’re noble when strictly necessary, but, in all honesty, your personality was far from dainty.

you wouldn’t have chosen to have this life if you could. as fun as it was to play dress up in magnificent ball gowns, you would have chosen a life full of adventures, skinny jeans, crop tops, and dyed hair instead.

the matron knocked on your door, bringing in the gorgeous dress robes that you’re supposed to wear for later evening.

you gratefully smiled at her, asking her to give yourself some time to prepare by yourself until the formal reception.

as you hung it over with your other dresses and gowns, you walked towards the balcony, breathing in some fresh air. it had a clear view of the beautiful gardens of the chateau, the same balconies from your left and right.

you flopped yourself down on the queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling as you thought of possible ways to avoid the betrothal.

none of your ideas sounded good enough, so you turned on the television in front of your bed to distract yourself from the inevitable proposal.

flipping through the channels, you stopped to watch audrey hepburn’s roman holiday.

when you’ve watched the scene where she snuck out of the castle, an idea popped up in your head. you knew it was impossible, of course, but it was worth a shot.

you glanced at the clock, you still had at least an hour and a half before the matron would come back to get you.

grabbing the satchel you’ve bought at a fair once, you made your way towards the elegant bathroom. you shuffled through the things, you knew that if your mother found out about your clandestine possessions, she would go calling you atrocious for merlin knows how long.

you slipped on your cargo shorts and a halter top. you stared at your long hair, you knew that if you wanted to slip away easily from the guards’ line of vision, you had to make some adjustments.

you grabbed the scissors from the corner of the countertop, taking a deep breath before snipping a lengthy portion.

you let out a hushed squeal, laughing as you stared at the chopped-off hair. you continued cropping and trimming until your hair became an uneven bob cut.

not bad, you grinned, cutting a few more strands to add curtain bangs, impeccable.

you scuffled deeper into the bag, your hand retrieving a bagged pink wig. perfect.

you started packing a few essential needs in your satchel.

you looked out the window, the sun had set an hour ago, meaning it was dark out. which also means it would be easier for you to sneak out.

you had at least ten minutes before meeting the blacks so you immediately stared across the room, looking for something to act as a rope.

stopping at the closet of gowns, you groaned in reluctance. you loved your gowns too much but you wouldn’t risk getting married, so you grabbed the scissors, ripping them up and tying them together.

once you’ve ensured that it was tight enough, you fastened it around the huge handles of the door and threw your makeshift rope out the balcony.

when you heard the whispers and footsteps of people coming you hastily grabbed your bag and ran towards the balcony.

you carefully grabbed onto the silk, lowering yourself down.

a noise from your right caught your attention, making you freeze. you snapped your head to the balcony next to you and made eye contact with a boy doing the same thing.

your prolonged eye contact was cut short when the doors to your room burst open, making you yelp in surprise as your rope had a sudden shift.

you could hear your matron holler for the guards, so you briskly lowered yourself faster, the friction of the silk burning against your hands.

you landed on your feet the same time as the mysterious guy did.

he made a run for it, dodging the bushes and flowers across the garden. his trousers not giving him any justice.

you were not too far behind him, thanking merlin that your yoga and workout lessons paid off.

the yells of the guards caught your attention, surrounding you and the man in the middle.

they all pointed their blades at you, making you gulp.

there goes your escape plan.

“which one of you has the princess?” a guard shouted, shifting the lamp between you and him. each one of the men slowly closing in on you.

that’s when you realized that they weren’t your palace guards. they were merely the chateau’s security.

“does it look like we have a princess with us?” the boy beside you refuted, gesturing between the both of you.

ten guards.

one of them asked their superintendent, “what was the description given?”

“long h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, last seen wearing a peach nightgown,”

they turned their gaze back at you, one of them approaching you to take a good look, “wait a minute,”

you sucked in a breath, but before any of you could make a move, the guy grabbed your hand and ran, swerving through the distracted guards.

“oi!”

but you already had a head start, you were out of the gates and into the forest the moment they called for backup.

you ran, and ran, and ran.

the adrenaline coursing in your veins had done nothing to stop you from running, it made you feel so free, so alleviated.

so alleviated that you didn’t notice the huge rock that made you stumble, but before you could even hit the ground, the man caught your arm, pulling you against him.

and you were certain that time stopped when you finally locked eyes with him. specks of green and blue surrounding his alluring hazel eyes.

they said that when you meet someone for the first time, they would either be nothing more than another face amongst the crowds of memories or a face that would be burning at the back of your mind for a long time.

it was the latter.

the moonlight was shining over the both of you, the soft light making him look so ethereal. his celestial facial structure giving the famed sculptures a run for their money.

regulus looked at you in awe, neglecting the fact that you almost fell flat on your face. his gaze fell onto your gentle e/c eyes, the smooth arch of your nose, and the sleek curve of the cupid’s bow on your lips.

you would’ve loved staying in that position, admiring the young man for the first time every chance you would be given, but alas, the distant shouts of the guards forbade you from doing it any longer.

“who are you, anyway?” the guy asked. after successfully carrying out your escape plan, with your pink wig askew, he offered to buy you a mug of warm butterbeer at the nearby pub; the leaky cauldron.

you removed the wig from your head’s hold, ruffling your hair a bit to soothe the headache. your eyes searched around the room, looking for a possible new name.

“erm,” guest singer, liane moonshine, “miliane…” holyhead harpies quidditch poster, “harper.” you finished, “miliane harper, yeah,”

he eyed you suspiciously as he took a sip from his drink, “alright, miliane harper, what’re you doing sneaking out’f the princess’ bedroom like that?”

“i could ask you the same thing, stranger,” you mused, fiddling with the straps of your satchel.

“regulus,” he said, “call me regulus,”

“what were you doing sneaking out next door, regulus?”

“i asked you first,” he said, shooting you a pointed look.

thinking of a reasonable explanation, you mumbled, “stealing?” you winced, cursing yourself for hesitating.

“a’right, here’s the deal, miliane harper, because i know f’myself that you aren’t who you claim to be and you certainly weren’t there to steal,” he whispered, leaning in ‘til his face was a few inches away from yours, “now, ‘m gonna ask you one last time, who. are. you?”

you gulped, faintly murmuring your answer, “the crowned heiress of diagon.”

“salazar,” regulus cursed, “you’re princess y/n?”

you shushed him, shoving your hand to cover his mouth as a few heads turned to look at the both of you. you were certain that your parents have sent a search team to look for you by now.

“yes, but be quiet, would you?” you hissed, retracting your hand to curtain your face with your hair, avoiding the curious gazes amongst the patrons.

he blinked at you, leaning back on his chair. he observed your appearance for a bit before snorting, “your hair, it’s uneven!”

your face flushed a deep shade of red, your hand automatically clutching your hair. you scowled at him, “how long have you been aching to tell me that?”

he chuckled, “ever since you took off your wig,” seeing that you rolled your eyes, he continued, “don’t worry, y/n, you look quite beauteous, if i must say.”

“i don’t require you to flatter me, regulus,” you scoffed, grabbing your mug to take a drink, though before the rim of the mug reached your lips, regulus set a few galleons down on the table and spoke up, “as fun as it was to meet you, your highness, i’ve got some places to go,”

“what?”

“good luck with this endeavor of yours, but i mustn’t risk being one of your accomplices,” he quipped, wearing his sweater, “fare thee well.”

it took you a moment to finish your drink and grab your things before leaving the low-lit pub. your eyes searched amongst the throng of people, trying to catch the sight of his brunette curls.

you hurried beside him, trying to avoid bumping into the others. you grew quite fond of the handsome lad who ran with you, despite the fact that he was still nothing but an enigma to you.

“mind if i join you?” you sought, clasping your hands in front of you, walking side-by-side with him.

regulus groaned silently, he looked down at you and sarcastically replied, “it’s a free country,”

you rolled your eyes and responded with a retort of your own, “actually, it’s a monarchy occupied by foreign oppressors.”

he ignored your sardonic comment and asked you a question to defuse the gauche atmosphere, “why’d you run away, princess?”

you looked at him, “y’know, i’m not really obliged to answer your question,”

“i… am well aware of that,” he huffed amusingly, “but given the fact that we’re going merlin knows where, i’d rather have a conversation going than walking in utter silence.”

regulus had a gist of why you ran away, assuming that you had the same reason as him.

you laughed softly before staring at your white tennis shoes, “‘ve been betrothed, and i was s’pposed to meet the lucky bloke who’ll have my hand in marriage,”

regulus swallowed the lump in his throat.

“what about you, regulus?” you asked, “why were you running away?”

“oh,” he let out a nervous laugh, “i- stealing.”

you gave him a keen look, “i used that excuse not too long ago, if you’ve forgotten,”

he smiled tensely, “f’real though, the prince owed me something, and i’d be pleased if he returned the favor.”

you huffed, not sure if you’d believe him, but thankfully for regulus, you caught sight of your palace guards questioning some people about your whereabouts, “shit,”

you immediately linked your arm with his and whispered, “palace guards, let’s go. just- act normal,”

he carefully unhooked your hold, opting to snake his arm around your waist instead, evidently making both of you flustered.

you let out a sigh of relief when you passed by them without causing any havoc, though it was short-lived when one of them called out, “excuse me, sir, ma’am?”

the both of you continued walking, slightly hurrying your steps.

regulus hauled a carriage and helped you get in, “godric’s hollow, please,”

the guards left standing behind, one of them writing down the descriptions of the suspicious couple and the carriage they’re in.

“where are we?” you asked, looking up at the lovely cottage amongst the rows of houses.

regulus sighed, “godric’s hollow,” he walked up from the gate and knocked on their doorstep, stepping back to wait for someone to open the door.

you hummed, “alright, but what exactly’re we doing here?”

merlin must’ve been on his side again because before he could even reply, a beautiful red-headed woman opened the door.

she must’ve been taken aback for a moment because her eyebrows shot up and mouth agape. she stuttered, “i- regulus, hey,”

“evans,” he nodded politely, “is, erm, sirius with you?”

she licked her lips, “it’s actually potter now,” she showed her wedding ring, “and uhm, yes, give me a moment.”

she shuffled back inside, letting the door open but didn’t make a move to invite you in.

“she’s lovely,” you jutted out your bottom lip.

“reggie?” another man, another attractive man, whom you were assuming was sirius, inquired.

“sirius,” he greeted.

the tension was so thick that you could feel it enveloping you with warmth. or that may just be because of the additional presence of the bespectacled man behind the redhead.

“i don’t mean to be rude but are we all going to just stand in here,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, “or are you gonna let us in?”

sirius looked at you in wonder, “i- oh, yes, yeah!”

the man whose presence was still looming over, blinked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips as he huffed amusingly at his best friend, letting you in. you looked around the house, the atmosphere giving you a sense of comfort and a feeling of home you’ve never felt.

“james potter,” he grinned at you, “and this is my lovely wife, lily.”

“y/n l/n, the heiress of dia--” you paused, “actually, it’s just y/n. sorry, force of habit.” you chuckled sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as they looked at you in surprise.

you wondered if you could trust that they wouldn’t send you back to your kingdom.

“you’re the crowned princess of diagon?” lily spluttered.

you smiled bashfully, “i may or may not be?”

“merlin, what’re you doing here? guards’re all over the place, knocking on doors n’all,” sirius remarked, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i also may or may not have ran away?” you grinned, scrunching your nose which both the black brothers found quite endearing.

“i would love to continue the chit chat, but d’you mind letting us stay here for a while?” regulus interrupted, but before they could even answer, a knock was heard from the door, “diagon sovereignty wards, we’ve got a couple of questions to ask.”

you cursed silently, sirius and lily quietly ushered you into the living room whilst james went to get the door.

“good evening, sir, we’ve been alerted that you’ve had some contact with these people?” a guard asked, pulling up a sketch of you and regulus.

james smiled warmly, “i’m sorry, but i reckon you’ve got the wrong person. ‘tis just me and my wife, and my best mate in ��ere,”

they nodded politely, “that’ll be all. thank you, sir, have a great evening.”

as soon as he closed the door, james sauntered back into the living room, looking at the worrying looks on your and regulus’ faces.

he and lily exchanged glances before she smiled softly, “i’ll go prepare the guest room.”

it was deep into the night, the potter household was surrounded by a quiet and serene atmosphere as the people living in it had already dozed off, yet you and regulus were far from drifting off to a dreamy slumber.

both of you had your backs against the headboard of the queen-sized bed you were supposed to share, staring into the void of nothingness as you let the comfortable aura rage around you.

“regulus?” you whispered. as if once you’ve spoken even a tad bit louder, the brittleness of the atmosphere would break.

he turned to look at you, “yeah?”

“what’s your biggest regret in life?” you wondered, voice laced with drowsiness. the adrenaline from a while ago slowly fading away, now being replaced with exhaustion.

regulus pondered for a moment. he had a lot of regrets, letting his parents abuse him and sirius, letting sirius just leave him alone in the dark and lonely castle, not living his best childhood. he had plenty, and lying to you was one of them.

he hummed, “i suppose being a coward,”

you fluffed your pillows and lowered yourself on the bed. you yawned, “i don’t think you’re a coward, regulus. after all, you just ran away with a princess.”

regulus looked at you fondly, watching as you slowly succumbed to sleep. he smiled softly, “yeah,”

your stay with the potters, and sirius, has been wonderful. you’ve felt more at home in godric’s hollow than in your palace. no amount of grandeur wealth would compare to the amount of love and belonging you’ve felt in your sojourn.

regulus has successfully managed to keep their mouths shut about him being a prince as well. the conversation and intention still went unnoticed by you.

you and lily have been the bestest of friends. the sweet girl that made you feel more at home than anyone else could, an evident friendship blossoming into a charming one.

james and sirius welcomed you into their arms as if you were one of their long-lost mates, and quite literally if you must say. they locked you beneath their armpits and ruffled your hair one game night.

you were convinced that james was the human embodiment of a ball of sunshine, never failing to put a smile on your faces. sirius had more of a flirty demeanor, which you’ve brushed off with a quip or two of your own.

“does the princess have a prince charming or do i have to step up?”

“not every prince is charming, sirius.”

and regulus— you’ve grown closer to regulus than you’ve ever had with anyone, getting to know each other more, spending more late nights talking about everything and nothing, and not that any of you would admit it, but inevitably falling in love was part of the list.

you and lily were in her room, she was lending you some clothes to wear as all of you have made a plan to go to the market fair in town.

james was on the phone with remus, asking him to meet up at the place whilst sirius and regulus were in the living room, catching up after a few years of not seeing each other.

sirius has grown quite fond of the princess. not that he was catching feelings, but a date wouldn’t sound too bad, if he must say, so he asked his brother, “d’you reckon y/n would fancy a date w’me? maybe i could bring her to hogsmeade,”

and to say that he was dumbstruck when he heard that was an understatement, “what? no, you can’t,”

sirius looked at him with a confused expression, “how come?”

regulus hesitated, “she’s… betrothed.”

the eldest black brother scoffed, “yeah, t’you, and she doesn’t even know that you’re that bloke,”

regulus shook his head, sitting up straight as he heard your giggles from upstairs, “just- don’t, sirius.”

padfoot grinned at his brother in realization, “by the love of merlin! you love her, don’t you?” he teased, bumping their shoulders together.

“let’s go, handsomes, i’m not getting any younger here!” you laughed. regulus thought you looked angelic, the white dress hugging your curves in the most surreal way possible, the smile on your face proving that any blue day would get better with just a glimpse of it.

“this isn’t over, reggie,” sirius sang mockingly, getting up and linking his arm with yours.

the market fair in godric’s hollow is incredibly enchanting. fairy lights were hanging above the booths, multitudes of colorful stalls, the smell of the amazing street food, and the bubbly spirits of the people mingling around had you in a state of awe.

you went in separate groups, lily with james, sirius went off to find remus, and you were stuck with regulus— not that you were complaining, really.

you dragged regulus by one of the stalls that sold clothes, wanting to buy a few to avoid borrowing more from lily.

you were currently strolling around with him, your shopping bags in his hold as he insisted to carry them for you.

whilst you stopped to look at the fancy daggers, regulus caught sight of a gorgeous necklace. convincing himself that it would only take a few minutes, he left your side and onto the booth to buy the jewelry for you.

once you’ve managed to choose a design, you paid for the dagger and strapped it on your thigh with the holster you bought, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

when he didn’t reply, you looked up to where he was standing just a few moments ago to find that he wasn’t by your side.

you crooned your neck to look around but instead of seeing him, you saw your palace guards slowly approaching you.

you cursed, turning around and running away from them, making them step up quickly and ran after you.

“regulus!” you called out, hoping that he’ll hear you.

“regulus!” you tried once more, and he finally heard you. he immediately pocketed the paid necklace and dropped the bags as he tried to run after you, “y/n!” but it was too late.

the guards were already surrounding you, two of them managed to carry you to a carriage while you thrashed around, “let me go! i don’t want to go back, please!” you cried, “regulus!”

regulus was running around the big plaza, trying to figure out where your voice was coming from.

the carriage was already a menacing dot as it continued to advance forward, leaving regulus frustrated and broken.

“what were you thinking running away like that?” your father barked, pacing back and forth on the castle’s lounge, “d’you know how ashamed we were when we found out that you snuck off? even more so whe-”

your father stopped talking when your mother gave him a stern look. an expression you know all too well when they didn’t want you to know something.

“it came to our attention that you ran away with regulus, yes?” your mother asked, giving you a tense smile.

you didn’t answer. looking at your parents with hatred as your eyes blurred with tears.

she sighed, “well, if you must know, he was the one who called for the guards. he knew about the huge amount of payment if someone gave you up. he contacted the palace guards before you even stepped foot in that repugnant marketplace.”

“no,” you let out a teary laughed, “regulus would never do that,”

he would never. especially after all those moments you’ve shared, those constant touches, the sneaky eye contacts. he would never.

“no? then where was he when you called for him?” your mother scoffed, a sly smirk on her face.

you glared at them, taking a shaky breath, “i-”

she tutted, “i’m not done just yet, my dear daughter. you will be married to lord riddle, on the contrary, seeing that the walburga and orion’s son was quite… negligent,”

“i will not be married to anyone!” you objected, “if there’s anyone i’d rather get married to, it would be regulus.”

your mother let out a cackle, “quite amusing if you asked me, dear, because regulus was the prince you were supposed to marry!”

you froze, managing to croak out a small, “what?”

your father chuckled, “oh, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you that?”

you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, “i hope you rot in hell.”

your mother scowled at you, “guards! bring her to the room.”

“i don’t need bodyguards surrounding me all the time, mother,” you spat, “i may be of the royal bloodline, but i am no weakling.”

“... and don’t forget to tie her up,” she smirked.

before you could even react, you were hauled up by your arms, screaming at them to let you go.

you made sure to give them a hard time while they walked up the stairs. once arriving at your room, they threw you on the carpeted floor with a right thump.

you flailed around, whimpering as they tied your arms and legs, “stop, stop, stop. please,” but they paid you no mind, leaving you alone in the dark.

after a few hours of trying to remove the rope from your limbs, and a few chaffings later, you ultimately gave up on trying. you didn’t know what your parents’ plan was but you were quite grateful for the noise and crashing outside your door.

crawling a bit towards your door, your forearm brushed against something rough on your thighs. you cursed yourself for being dense, and lifted your dress a bit, carefully grabbing your new rose gold dagger from its holster.

when you heard the jingling of your door, you hastily tried to cut the rope from your wrists.

you cussed as you dropped it on the floor, you tried to get a hold of it once more when the door suddenly burst open.

“y/n!” regulus breathed out in relief, he rushed by your side, grabbing your fallen dagger and cutting the ropes. your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, before turning your gaze to the man you’ve fallen in love with, the same man who lied to you.

sirius approached the both of you, trying to tell you to hurry up before the guards caught up with them, “let’s go!”

“are you alright?” regulus asked, cupping your face in his hands.

you glared at him, rubbing your arms to soothe the burning, “don’t touch me.”

you stood up, grabbing the dagger from his hand, and placed it back on your holster. you snatched your satchel from the floor and started packing a few necessities that could fit in.

regulus looked at you in confusion and hurt, standing up as you shuffled around the room, “what’s wrong?”

you ignored him, shoving past him, and made your way towards sirius, who just shrugged at his brother.

the three of you sneaked past the guards and the members of the order, successfully escaping and meeting up with lily and james at the entrance.

“oh, merlin!” lily brought you in a hug, “are you alright, y/n?”

“lily,” you breathed out, hugging her back. you closed your eyes in relief, letting out a teary laugh, “i’m alright, don’t worry,”

“we’ve got to go, they’ll catch up soon enough if we don’t leave,” james said, “‘m sure frank and the rest got ‘em distracted for a while.”

arriving back at the potter household, they let you retire back at the guest room, regulus following in suit.

“hey, y/n, what’s wrong?” regulus asked, grabbing your arm so you’re facing him.

you looked at him in anger and hurt, “you lied to me!”

“wha- what did i lie about? i don’t understand,” regulus was dumbstruck, he didn’t know what you were talking about until he remembered all about the betrothal. he looked down in guilt.

“stop the act, regulus. you were the one i was supposed to marry,” you whispered, “why did you lie to me?”

regulus sighed, sitting down on the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, “i was scared, alright? i was scared because i fell for you, y/n, and when i found out that you didn’t want to marry me, i didn’t know what to do… so i lied because i was afraid that you’d go if i told you that i was the prince.”

“and it’s terrifying how i would’ve given you the stars if you asked,” he chuckled softly, “but i chose to keep that to myself because that’s how much of a coward i am…”

“reg, i didn’t even know that it was you,” you frowned, expression softening as you sat down beside him, “and i frankly don’t care about the stars, or anything at all, honestly, because all i want is you, regulus,”

“don’t be so sure about that, y/n,” he breathed out, “if you’ve known that it was me, you wouldn’t agree to marry me.”

“you’re right,” you nodded, smiling softly, “i wouldn’t marry you because of some stupid betrothal, i’d marry you because i love you, regulus black, and i know f’myself that you’re the man that i would love to spend the rest of my life with.”

he looked at you with adoration and love in his eyes, a small smile adorning his lips.

regulus tucked the loose strand of hair behind your hair, his eyes shifting from your eyes down to your lips, “may i?”

not trusting your words, you nodded instead, slowly leaning in. regulus cupped the side of your face with his hand, your hand running through his brown curls as the both of you drew closer. eyes fluttering close as you felt the soft, warmth of his lips caress your own.

after a few moments, he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own, smiling softly at the result of the sudden revelations and confessions.

“let’s run away, regulus,” you whispered, “away from here and our wretched parents.”

“yeah?” he chuckled softly, “where’d you want to go, m’love?”

“italy.”

“... and they lived happily ever after.” you smiled softly.

“mum, what happened in italy?” your daughter asked, hugging her teddy bear as she looked up at you and regulus with her doe eyes.

regulus hummed, “they settled down in florence, italy, with the help of the marauders-”

“dad, who are the marauders?” your son questioned, exchanging looks with his sister and his cousin, harry.

“they’re the best friends of the prince and princess, orion,” james grinned, snaking his arm around lily’s waist.

“what happened next, aunt y/n?”

“well, they had a small wedding by the beach, they traveled around the world, had kids, and are now telling their stories to their adorable kids and godson,” you smiled, “and the said kids and godson should be asleep in the next five minutes.”

the three of them let out simultaneous groans. you, regulus, and the marauders had small smiles on your faces, finding the situation amusing.

“good night, my darlings, we love you,” you and regulus kissed their foreheads and tucked them in bed, as lily and james did the same with harry.

after ensuring that they were fast asleep, you and the rest went back down to the living room.

sirius grinned, grabbing the firewhiskeys and crisps out of the bag, “they finally went to sleep?”

“yeah,” you smiled, fiddling with the moonstone necklace regulus bought you from the fair, “guess our story worked perfectly fine as a bedtime tale, didn’t it, reggie?”

“indeed it did, m’love,” he kissed the top of your head, sitting down on the couch for your traditional game night.

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirly @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

marauders taglist: @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @eunoniaa @acosmis-t @amrtxntias @cedrics-grave @dracosgoodgirl @msmb

#scheduled #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus #black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus x you #regulus x y/n #regulus x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fluff #regulus black one shot #regulus black blurb #regulus black angst #sophiasfam #useramourtentiaa #tuserliane

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scribblinaway · 2 years ago

Text

ok so here is a thing that is terrible, but then there’s maybe a silver lining, but then the silver lining somehow reveals even worse things underneath, but then that somehow has managed to create a new silver lining, maybe, but people are terrible and I don’t even know?

anyway, this is an extended ramble about rape culture in hockey and the ongoing Hockey Canada scandal and all the players’ questionable public statements in advance of the next set of parliamentary hearings next week.

So. Okay. Rape culture has been a big problem in hockey for a long time. It's something that we've started to see get addressed more and more on high school and university-level hockey teams over the last ten years or so, I would guess as part of overall campus strategies on this issue. I think the NHL's kinda come-to-Jesus moment happened last year, when a lot of information came to light about the Chicago Blackhawks covering up a sexual assault of one of their own players by a member of coaching staff, and the extremely terrible flow-on effects of that action. But change takes a long time, and other levels of hockey haven’t necessarily had this kind of shake-up.

Now: The Junior World Championships (aka World Juniors). At least in Canada, it's probably the biggest non-NHL hockey event other than the Olympics. (I'm hoping the Women's World Championship will surpass it though.) It's fun to watch for a few reasons: (1) It normally starts on Boxing Day, so everyone is at home doing the holiday thing with their families and it's nice to have something on TV; (2) You get a preview of a lot of the exciting young talent coming up in the sport, including prospects your fave NHL team has drafted; (3) You get to cheer for your country, which is often fun ( although admittedly less so lately); (4) They tend to be very fast-paced and kind of aggressive games. Like, these are 17, 18, 19-year old boys. They are extremely talented athletes, they have a LOT of testosterone and adrenaline going on, they haven't necessarily learned to control their emotions during/after a game yet, and they really want to win and to prove themselves on TV. Some of these players will go on to great NHL careers and win Stanley Cups, and some of these players have just hit the apogee of their hockey careers at a very young age.

I am describing this both so that you will understand why this competition is a big deal and so that you will have some perspective on the kinds of dynamics or attitudes you might find on such a squad.

So: in January 2018 Canada won the World Juniors. Hip hip hurray, etc. In June 2018, Hockey Canada, which is the governing body for hockey in Canada, held a gala celebrating the win. After that event, a young woman went to the hotel room of a Canadian Hockey League player (i.e. player in one of the major junior leagues in Canada) and engaged in conensual sexual activity with him, after which she alleges that seven other CHL players, including members of the 2018 junior team, entered the room and sexually assaulted her. (According to their lawyers, the players involved maintain that the whole thing was consensual, and furthermore that not all of the eight players who entered the room were involved in this encounter--some came in and then left.) Among other things, at one point they got her to film herself saying she was sober enough to consent.

The day after the incident, the woman told her mother, who called the police. The player she initially went home with texted in a panic asking her not to make trouble. She told him that she had called the police back and said it was all a mistake, but she and all the players did eventually end up cooperating with police. The police investigation concluded in 2019 without further consequences, with the lead detective apparently saying that there were not enough reasonable grounds for a charge of sexual assault.

This April, the woman sued Hockey Canada, the CHL, and the eight players (anonymously, as John Does) for 3.5 million dollars (Canadian, which is about 2.7 million USD) for damages related to the PTSD and other after-effects she suffered. As part of the lawsuit she claimed that Hockey Canada was aware of her allegations in 2018 but did not investigate them and allowed a culture of sexual assault to go unchecked. In May, Hockey Canada settled this suit for some unnamed amount of money--I guess to make it go away, because that is a very short turnaround time for them to have done any kind of due diligence.

Of COURSE, this came out in the media, which raised a lot of questions! It kind of started with wanting to know who the players were and if Hockey Canada did actually investigate, and then where the money came from, and the House of Commons committee on heritage & sport called in Hockey Canada executives to explain themselves as the GOVERNING BODY OF THE SPORT.

Also, many of the players on that 2018 roster are now successful NHL players, some of them big fan favourites, so, like, THAT doesn't feel great.

So, terrible thing, right? The silver lining, such as it is, would be that people are taking it seriously, so that’s good. Unfortunately, this has managed to uncover that this is all EVEN WORSE than we thought???

Some of the things that have come out SO FAR (mostly from the House of Commons, some of them from player representatives or investigative journalism) include:

Hockey Canada did investigate the incident back in 2018, but did not require anyone to participate in the investigation. There were no consequences for those who refused to participate.

This investigation was never completed and the report never filed. It was paused to let the criminal investigation play out and never resumed after the police concluded their investigation--the law firm in charge of the investigation says because the woman at the centre of the case did not want to talk to them.

While the law firm that investigated knows the identities of the eight players involved, Hockey Canada does not. It's unclear to me if the identities would have been revealed to Hockey Canada officials had the investigation and report ever been completed, or if it was a willful ignorance kind of situation. Even after paying out this settlement on their behalf, Hockey Canada STILL does not know their identities (and apparently didn't even bother asking before paying out the settlement, which AT BEST implies that they agree to the lawsuit's claim that they didn't investigate properly and AT WORST suggests that it didn’t matter because they assume any CHL player would in fact do this).

Hockey Canada did not inform anyone else, such as the Minister of Sport or the NHL, about the incident, the investigation, or the lawsuit, until they became aware that a news outlet was going to run a story about the settlement.

Hockey Canada also did not inform the players or any of their representatives about the lawsuit or the settlement in advance of the media report. (They claim they told the players' lawyers, but the lawyers say that isn't true. In fact, the players' lawyers maintain their clients' innocence and say that had their clients known they would have preferred to go to court rather than settle, because the settlement implies wrongdoing.)

A Hockey Canada official said--kind of casually??--that they see one to two sexual assault allegations EVERY YEAR (!!!!!!)

A big worry was that the settlement was paid using government money. BUT what actually happened is: Hockey Canada keeps a semi-secret fund for expenses that insurance won't cover, including background checks for coaching staff, and this is the fund they used to pay out the settlement (and, it seems, have used for similar payments before). The money from this fund seems to come from registration fees from players at all levels (again, this is the governing body of the sport, so that includes everything from Timbits leagues to beer leagues). They call it the National Equity Fund (!!!!!!!), which makes me want to punch something.

But, these terrible revelations have kind of resulted in actual consequences, so I guess that’s a second silver lining? Some of the consequences SO FAR include:

The Minister of Sport has frozen funding to Hockey Canada pending the results of an independent investigation into their practices.

Gymnasts across the country are now asking that a similar investigation be done of their governing body, which they claim has also covered up a lot of sexual assault allegations over the years.

Starting with Scotiabank, numerous sponsors have backed out of supporting the World Juniors this year (which were postponed due to the December-January Omicron wave and are set to take place in August). Scotiabank is putting some of that money towards the Women’s World Championship.

Hockey Canada is reopening their investigation, now with mandatory participation and consequences for those who refuse. The NHL will also do their own investigation.

The police are doing an internal review into the criminal investigation.

Hockey Canada has promised to stop using that fund for sexual assault payouts.

So that all sounds like cause for cautious optimism, I guess? But now that the investigations are reopened and the House of Commons is looking into it, and the media is reporting on it, the pressure is on the players who were part of it and any players who knew something.

While we know that the eight men involved in the incident were CHL players in 2018, we don't know how many of them were on the 2018 World Junior team. However, all the players on that team are now under a certain amount of scrutiny. A few of them have released public statements, either personally or through their agents, saying that they were not involved and had no knowledge of the incident at the time. A few more had their agents release public statements saying things like "they participated in the initial investigation willingly" or "they weren't involved in any wrongdoing", which... uh... is not exactly the same as not being involved in the incident???? especially since as previously mentioned the players maintain they weren't doing anything wrong???? and the police didn't charge them in the end????

And on top of those guys “no wrongdoing”/”participated in the investigation” guys,, there are also a few players who haven't made any kind of comment (maybe because their lawyers have told them not to, with the currently reopened investigation, but it sure doesn't look great!) Two of the players who haven't made any comments are on my team, and one of them has been a big fan favourite, which makes the fan base understandably really uncomfortable right now--the prospect that maybe this guy we've all been cheering for and making memes about etc. might be a rapist, or might have known about this incident and not said anything--but also there's still a possibility that he wasn't involved and just doesn't want to make a public comment at this stage? Ugh.

There’s also a sexual assault trial going on right now in Vancouver for a former Vancouver Canuck who was dropped by the team after he was charged, in which there is some MAJOR BULLSHIT coming out of that, so that just kind of adds to the general air of UGHHHHH

I mean, frankly, I don't think a lot of junior-level hockey players (or pro hockey players generally) have a very strong concept of consent. Not just sexually, but in general. If they're very talented players, they're putting themselves in the hands of their coaches and trainers from a young age. Their bodies are performance tools. At 17 or 18 they're doing the NHL Combine, going through a series of physical fitness tests and medical examinations while grown men stand around and film them and take notes and make decisions that will decide their futures. This sort of thing contributes to players themselves being preyed upon by, e.g., coaches (see: the whole Blackhawks debacle) or other players (e.g., hazing) but also I think that it contributed to them not really thinking about other peoples’ consent? On top of that there is the usual entitlement of being a white male hockey star, and a lot of our narratives about hockey players and their sex appeal (around, for example, the idea of puck bunnies throwing themselves at the big stars) play into that, and the fact that Hockey Canada and other orgs are so willing to just go in and clean up after them really leaves the impression that there’s nothing wrong with doing this, so they don’t take it seriously? I mean, hockey in general has had a TERRIBLE culture of conformity with a lot of hazing, bullying, racism, misogyny, homophobia, etc. that is only just now being addressed. And when you’re that good of a player, hockey is basically your whole life from at least your preteen years. What a toxic stew to grow up in.

Ugh, this sounds like I’m trying to excuse their behaviour, and I’m really not. What I'm trying to elucidate here is that an understanding of consent isn't particularly intuitive to these young men, and on top of that they’re probably pretty self-centred, and on top of THAT the people around them are sending signals that none of this is important. But those seem kind of like problems that could be fixable with education? Like, not to get into the details of this case beyond the video of her saying she was sober etc., but these eight guys' actions seem to betray a very surface-level understanding of consent. To what extent were they intentionally violating this woman’s consent, to what extent did they just disregard it and not consider whether it mattered, and to what extent did they really believe that she was consenting (or consenting enough)? Between these eight guys there’s probably varying levels of all three. I think when we talk about rape and when we talk about rapists we are often talking about the first one--an intentional violation of consent, a power thing, a person who gets something out of humiliating/degrading/subjugating another person, and I don’t know that education can help with that. But rape culture means that there’s a whole lot of rapes and rapists with incidents involving the other two options--not caring or not understanding. And education and training could definitely help there. Not necessarily with everyone but with some of them. And isn’t that what we need? More guys who know this is wrong and are confident it’s wrong, not only so that they won’t do it, but also so that they will speak up if others do?

SO, idk. It does sound like Hockey Canada wants to do more of that kind of education, now. So if they can so that and prevent more incidents like this in the future, maybe that’s a final silver lining? Idk idk idk. I keep going on these like waves of being cautiously optimistic followed by waves of being just disgusted and disheartened.

#rape culture

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

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💞Lovely Valentine💞

Peter Maximoff x female!reader

Word count: 1735 (way longer than I expected)

Summary: You didn't like this time of year. Until one cheeky speedster changes your mind.

A/N: you're X-Men (congrats!), your mutation isn't mentioned, so it can be anything. Let your imagination go wild!

And another too cheesy, too love dovey, too dumb movie appiered in TV. You rolled your eyes and turned it off. You felt a light breeze caress your hair.

"Why did you turn it off?" a familiar voice sounded from beside you.

"What? Did you want to watch something discustingly romantic?" you asked with a mocking tone.

Peter only laughed. "Yeah actually. Maybe you never noticed, but I'm hopeless romantic," he leaned into you holding a hand to his heart.

You felt your cheeks getting 2 degrees hotter as you felt his head on your shoulder.

"Yeah, no. You're not. You always gag whenever you hear a cheesy pick up line!"

"But only because they're dumb, mine are much better! Wanna hear?"

As much as you wanted to say yes, you declined. He didn't need to know how you felt about him.

"Alright, whatever," he looked away from you. Your mind must've played a trick on you, because he looked quite dissapointed to you.

In a blink of an eye he was gone. You just shrugged, not the first time somebody left you alone. Especially on a day like this.

'Pull yourself together Maximoff, you're such a lad with women around you and you can't even make your crush go out with you? You're losing your charm man.'

Peter was sitting at the top of Xavier's mansion. His leg was bouncing from pure nervousness. He must come up with something more than just a pick up line. Flowers? Chocolate? Plushie? Jewelry? He can steal all of that, that's not the problem. The problem is making you interested.

He's known you for quite some time, and he knows you don't really like Valentine's. All of those 'happy' couples making heart eyes at eachother the whole day annoy him too, but you are on a whole another level. He doesn't even know the real reason behind your hatred for this holiday. He must find out.

But first...

You decided to go to your room. Kitty Pride, your roomate, went out with someone, like 50% of the school, so you had the whole room just for you (finally). You were building a house from cards listening to some old tapes Peter gave you when the silver haired bastard ran into your room, knocking all cards to the ground.

"Really? Couldn't you just walk in like evrybody else? I suppose not," you started picking up your cards.

"No, I can't. I had to hurry, ya know?" he bent down to pick up those which fell from your table to the ground and gave them to you, making sure your hands brushed each other.

"And why?"

"To spend more time with you, why else?"

You rolled your eyes, but secretely, you were touched. "You could be doing hundred and one things, or stealing hundred and one things. Why spending time with me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. In a blink of an eye he was on your bed, your headphones on his head as he rolled your walkman in his hands.

"Do you ever NOT use the lightning speed for mundane things? How about walking? You may heard of it," you pulled the headphones from his head.

"It's cooler this way. Hey listen, I came here to ask you something. Why do you hate Valentine's so much? I mean, we've known eachother for a long time and you always lock yourself away from everyone."

It suddenly became very hard to look at him. You never told anyone, no one ever asked. Or cared enough to notice how you always disappear when a couple walks into a room, or how you try to desperately avoid any romantic movie on TV. It made your heart flutter that Peter noticed these things about you.

"I don't know. Probably the cheap things people do on Valentine's. Flowers being the stupidiest. They are all cut and binded with a glittery bow, leaving mess behind for mostly a week and then those lovely roses die. Very romantic. Or the fact that everyone suddenly feels the need to show their undying love to a person they met a month ago. Or the cuddling under a warm blanket. Or having someone to trust with your life. Or someone who will stay by your side and hold your hand against all odds. Or someone who doesn't abandon you," you started to trail off. You were touch starved, kiss deprived, lonely.

Many times you hugged a pillow to your chest wishing it was a human being. Many times you filled a glove with rice, heated it and held it as if it was the real deal. You even planned on buying this big pillow in the shape of a human to cuddle to at night.

This soft vulnerable side was only for you. No one else needed to know the big badass Y/N was romantic at heart. So you pretended to hate the holiday while you secretely read all those disgustingly sweet romance novels and watched cheesy romcoms, imagining it would someday happen to you. Find love with somebody.

Such a shame that somebody you wanted it with was in this room with you, probably ready do mock you for revealing your soft side.

Your eyes were still focused on carpet as you felt Peter sit up besides you on the bed and gently put his hand on your knee. "If it makes you happy, I will never abandon such a great girl like you. I can spend this day with you. And I don't accept any 'I feel better alone' bulshit you tell everyone."

A gentle chuckle escaped you. "Okay, alright. You can stay here. But no speeding!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "As you wish. I wanted to take you somewhere far away from here and show you something, but since you said no speeding," he trailed off teasingly.

"What? Where. Okay, speeding ban is down, take me there please!"

"Hold on tight," he said as he held the back of your head.

Few moments later you found yourself on top of a giant copper building. The view consisted of a classical square with not so many people and a long river snaking between houses in a deep canal. You looked over the railing and found out you weren't just on any building. You were on a top of the Eiffel Tower!

A cough from behind you brought you back to reality. You turned around and nearly died. Peter stood there, his usual band t-shirt, silver jacket and jeans were replaced by a white loose dress shirt and black trousers. His silver hair was still a mess but that's what you loved about him the most, so you didn't complain.

"Appreciate while you can, you'll see me like this only at somebody's funeral," he said jokingly.

You chuckled. "Can I at least take a picture? Pwetty pwease?" you did your best baby voice to convince him to say yes.

"Only if it's a selfie."

"Deal," you fished out your phone from your back pocket and srood next to his side. His arm hugged you to him by your shoulders. As you pushed the button you felt a soft preassure on your cheek for a short while. Did he just pecked you on a cheek? In his faster than light speed?

You checked the selfie and sure enough, there it was. You smiling, him leaning down, kissing your cheek in a slight blur. In the reflection of your screen you saw him with an almost soft smile.

"Why would you do that?" you asked gesturing to the selfie.

"Cuz I wanted to do that. A-and I kinda like you. Romantically, I mean," he said sheepishly. He was kinda cute when he was shy.

"Really? You're not kidding right?"

"Nope, I don't joke about serious stuff."

"Well, I kinda like you too."

He turned his head back to you with a giant smile plastered on his face. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

There was an awkward silence for a full minute, both of you looking either into each others' eyes or just roaming around the other one's face.

"Well, that's cool," you broke the silence.

"We just told eachother we like the other one and you say that's cool?" Peter asked half laughing.

"I panicked and you didn't say anything so I thought-"

"Yeah, you think too much," he cut you off and leaned towards you. His lips fell on yours. After initial shock you gave into the kiss, your hands held the back of his neck. His hair tickled your fingers and the back of your palm.

He broke the kiss. "Damn, I'm moving too fast again," he shook his head, his nose brushed your own.

"Well, I don't mind moving fast, our lifes are way too short anyways."

"Yeah, but if it starts fast it ends fast. I don't want that. Besides, I had a plan to do this properly," he then ran away from you in a white and black blur and returned now in his usual clothes holding a box of chocolate and a giant stuffed bear. "I didn't know which to give you, so I took both. Like it?"

"Yes Peter, the bear is so cute!" you took him from his hand and squeezed him to your chest. "This will do great for middle night cuddling, thank you."

"What do you mean 'this will do'? You have me for cuddling now! Can a bear hug you like this?" he rushed behind you and hugged you from behind. "Or kiss you like this?" he kissed your exposed neck softly and rested his chin on your left shoulder and looked at you as if you were the only one in the world.

You turned your head towards his and pecked his nose. "Nope, he can't," you kissed his lips one more time before turning around in his arms and started heavily making out.

"By the way," you said as he nibbled on your ear, "did you steal these things?"

"Uuuuh what will you do if I say yes?"

"Nothin', still like you. Romantically."

He chuckled into your skin. "Still romantically like you too."

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #romance #fluff #Happy Valentine

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

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All Over Again - Chapter 7

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Ch. 6

Here’s to hoping everyone has a wonderful Christmas. I know this one’ll be different for most of us if not all, I’m here to chat for any reason, and enjoy the chapter 🎄✨💚❤

Fluffy white falls just outside the window. The wide surrounding field covered in the crystalized ice. Not a single bird is in sight, but just at the forest edge, is a deer.

Going from pushing its nose through the snow, it suddenly looks up. If the compound weren’t so far away, you’d guess it was looking at you.

“Hey, staring out the window isn’t going to get that garland up so chop chop.”

Frown in place, you shove your hand into the box at your feet,“ can’t you like, hire people for this.”

“That’d just make me look like some rich asshole.” Silence passes and Tony’s jaw drops at the look on your face.“ I’m not an asshole Y/Ln.”

“Not as much as before anyway.” Both yours and Tony’s eyes pan to the new presence. Pepper slides a hand across her husband’s back,“ I still love you though.” She kisses his cheek and goes over to help Maria hang mistletoe.

You stick your tongue out at Tony playfully, then turn back to hanging the garland.

With Mister Stark’s annual Christmas party now being on the 23rd(there’s no way he’s not spending Christmas Eve and Christmas with his daughter), the team is decorating the compound. There are already a bunch of inflatable decorations outside along with lights, according to Tony, things aren’t done until the inside is just as festive as the out.

Stepping off the ladder, you pick it and the box up, moving over to the next window so Sam and Bucky can place stickers on the one you just left.

Just before you can get back up your phone buzzes a few times and you pull it out. A smile splitting across your face at the message from Lena, and then dropping at it’s contents.

Obviously you’d invited her to the party, it’s the best excuse you had to see her so soon after having just left. Except now she’s telling you she won’t be able to make it, something came up at work. You sigh and tell her it’s perfectly fine and to have a happy holiday.

The second message has a curiouser frown on your face and you spin around.

Eyes landing at the kitchen doorway where Natasha quirks a brow with a little smirk and nods backwards.

Scanning the common room, as if looking for who she’s actually talking to, you find no one else around you. The playful roll of her eyes and nod tells you she’s talking about you.

You set the garland and tape down and head over. Natasha back steps into the kitchen once you reach her.

“What’s with the clandestine meeting Miss Romanoff?”

The redhead chuckles, back facing you while her hands move in front of her,“ I just wanted you to try this. If it sucks then I probably shouldn’t serve it at the party tonight.”

Before you can ask what she’s talking about, she’s already holding a glass towards you. It’s chilly to the touch and the second you raise it to your face you can smell the mixture of cream and bourbon.

Natasha watches you as you take the first sip, your tongue running along your lips to rid them of the excess cream. Golden green eyes trail the lines of your eyes, cheek, jaw, and back up the other side.

“Maybe a little lighter on the bourbon,” you chuckle, finishing the drink,“ and that’s coming from me.”

Finally focusing on your eyes, Natasha smiles a little,“ where’s the fun in that.”

You raised your eyebrows,“ don’t tell me you’re trying to get everyone drunk Tash, that’s not gonna end well for us you know.”

When you see Natasha’s eyes widen you get a little worried. Her smile drops and her jaw slacks. She’s about to say something but shakes her head instead,“ yeah you’re right. I’ll fix it.” She turns back to the bowl of eggnog in silence.

You don’t get the chance to ask what she means as Wanda calls your name, sliding to a stop at the door and leaning in to look at you,“ mind helping me decorate the tree?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” You pull a smile as you turn to face her,“ come on.”

As you walk out, Wanda throws herself on to your back, arms circling your shoulders.

“Your girlfriend coming to the party?” She asks.

Once again you sigh,“ no. She has some business at work she can’t hold off.”

With her being behind you, you can’t see the giddy look on her face,“ is she seriously your girlfriend?”

Honestly you hadn’t even noticed that you didn’t deny it,“ what, no I- Wanda you know she’s not.”

Your best friend jumps from your back with an agreeing statement and the two of you start hanging ornaments on the tree. As you work you talk about the same stuff you usually do: everything and nothing. She’s really excited about Christmas, after spending the last two with Clint’s family you figure the excitement of seeing the kids has rubbed off on her. It always did you.

Whenever you and Natasha went to the farm for the holiday their childlike innocence and excitement brought an insane amount of joy to your hearts. You can’t count the number of times you and Natasha had daydreamt about your own children bringing you that joy.

That’s not exactly how things have gone now though. And you’re starting to feel a lot less upset over it.

By the time all the decorations are up and the place is Stark approved, it’s late enough to get changed. You keep your outfit simple, burgundy sweater and black pants fitting to you exactly how you like. Last thing you want is to be uncomfortable for the hours that this party will last.

“Is-is that my sweater?”

Your gaze snaps up from your shoes to Wanda at your door, you chuckle,“ one: you look great,” her velvet green of the shoulder dress compliments the woman’s eyes and fair skin tone beautifully,“ two: this is my sweater that you stole. I simply stole it back.”

Wanda’s eyes roll, knowing you’re right, as you leave out.

From the sounds of things, a number of people have shown up already, all of them made known as you step into the common room once again.

Familiar faces scatter the room: Happy, Rhodey, Carol, the Guardians, the King and Princess of Wakanda, and a SHIELD recruit team lead by Coulson. Alongside the people who were here before.

“Does Stark ever not invite investors?” The younger woman leans over to ask.

Chuckling, you lead her towards the bar,“ they aren’t investors. They’re a team, like us.”

She nods, leaning against the bar,“ are we the only teams?”

“I have no idea. SHIELD made a lot of quiet moves back in the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some other teams.”

Wanda can’t help but agree. She was never under SHIELD but she figures things are a lot alike under the Avengers themselves, or Cap at least.

Frowning, you finally focus on the bar, that's unattended. Natasha’s usually back there, messing around and avoiding having to socialize for the most part.

“Alright, what’re you having Miss Maximoff?” You ask, rounding the bar and leaning on the top, eyes set on Wanda.

She looks at the wall of liquor with a raised brow, that is until you start to notice the overwhelmed look.

You wave your hand,“ don’t worry I’ll fix you up somethin nice.”

With new intrigue, Wanda watches you fix her a drink. As you’re distracted someone eases into the stool beside Wanda and the younger woman’s eyes widen.

“One vodka and cranb-” The drink in your hand jostles as you stop abruptly.

You can’t begin to describe the pure joy that spreads through you at the sight of her. So much joy in fact that you don’t even stop yourself from setting the drink down and rounding the bar to her. Lena quickly accepts the hug you offer, a bright smile of her own spreading.

It’s not missed on anyone how equally happy she is to see you or the way she buries her face in your neck or how your hold on her tightens.

As Wanda watches with a broad smile, across the room Natasha frowns.

Despite what she’d told you in the gym weeks ago, something stirs inside her.

She finds herself thinking. Alongside a sudden rush of memories: your arms around her almost exactly like that, your lips secretly pressing to her neck before you pull away. Just as your hug with Lena breaks, Natasha finds herself wondering if you’d secretly kissed the CEO’s neck.

You have to bite your lip to stop the smitten smile from growing. Once your thoughts calm, you go back around the bar,“ anything I can get you?”

A thought flicker’s through her mind that has her face turning bright red,“ my usual if you have it.”

With a nod and mock salute, you get to work making her a glass of red wine.

“Miss Luthor,” Tony approaches the bar, champagne in hand as he leans on her other side,“ you come all the way out here for our sweet little Y/n?”

The drink you’d just made damn near drops from your hand and you snort, holding back a laugh. Sweet little Y/n? You wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as that.

Silver green eyes look at you, a smile on her lips,“ she’s worth the slight jet lag.”

Her comment makes you smile and you lean forward just a little, your fingers brushing.

“Y/Ln workin the bar!” The groups eyes fall on the two men walking up, Sam leaning at the very end of the bar and Bucky stopping beside him.“ This either really good or really bad.”

Smirking at the man, you pick up the drink mixer and set to making something he couldn’t possibly deny. Pouring a combination of juices and liquor together, you cap it and shake, then pouring the mix over ice and sliding it to Sam.

His eyes narrow at you as he lifts the glass. Those brown eyes quickly widening,“ oh I’m going to need another one.”

That’s how you find yourself tending the bar for majority of the night, Lena and Wanda maintaining their positions there with you. While your team does hang around the area a lot, they make sure to step away every so often.

Still though you end up being teased not long after. Having known you for years, the team. . . your family can tell how you feel about Lena with ease. The amount of attention you pay to her, the smile on your lips, the questions you answer, and your reactions to everything she says.

“I- no, that never happened. I think I’d remember if I fell off a stage!” You tell everyone as they laugh at the story Lena’s telling.

Maybe you’d gotten a little too drunk at karaoke night with the superfriends, maybe not. According to Lena, you and Winn serenaded the friends and you tripped off stage. Either way you can’t remember.

“With the number of shots Winn and Mon-El gave you I don’t you remember anything at all.” She laughs.

You open your mouth to argue but truthfully, she’s most likely right. Sighing in defeat, you lean on crossed arms on the bar,“ at least tell me the serenade was good.”

“It was perfect.”

A long gaze holds between you two, small smiles on your lips.

The thought hits you suddenly: you haven’t had a moment alone with Lena yet. As much as you love seeing her get along with your family, you’d really like a minute with her. So you nod to Wanda who’s quick to mouth ‘tell her’ to you.

You sigh and shake your head, a quiet part of you contemplating it, then turning to Lena,“ hey, you mind stepping away with me for a moment?”

The CEO is quick to nod, her hand slipping into the one you offer her. And you definitely feel eyes on you as you walk off with her.

Your heart speeds up in your chest as her hand remains in hers.

“Where, pray tell, are you taking me?” She asks, keeping her voice quiet even though no one is around.

Pursing your lips, a sheepish smile forms,“ honestly I’m not sure I just wanted to talk.”

Her eyebrows raise a little,“ what about?” She asks with a slightly tilted head.

“Oh, uh I-” Mentally you curse yourself.

How is it that you can take down HYDRA goons, Cartel bosses, and enhanced persons with natural ease? Yet talking to Lena makes you feel like some lovestruck child. You’ve interrogated men the size of trucks but can’t seem to ask this beauty a simple set of questions.

Stopping, she rests a hand on your forearm,“ Y/n, you can tell me anything, really.”

You can’t help but free fall into the comfort and reassurance of those green eyes. Mouth dry all of a sudden, you clear your throat and swallow,“ I guess, you know, I was wondering a-about you and James.” When her hand slips from you, you hasten to clear it up,“ I’m sorry, you don’t have to reply to that, I-”

“We used to date.” Lena speaks, gaze trained on her shoes,“ though, that ended a while ago.”

Hearing that makes that thought in your head a little louder. Out of all the things stopping you from telling Lena how you feel, her possibly being with James is no longer one of them.

You nod. After a bit of hesitance, you grab her hand, the warmth spreading up your arm, across your chest, and straight to your heart. Looking at your smile, makes Lena smile as well. You desperately want to keep that expression on her face so you opt to change the subject.

“I’m really glad you made it.”

The two of you turn to keep walking, Lena good naturedly bumping her shoulder against yours,“ I would’ve regretted not coming. And your company is much better than the work I left behind.”

You grimace,“ I can’t say I hope it wasn’t important cause I know it was but-”

“You’re more important.”

Just like before you halt, right foot skidding to a stop beside your left, as your hand tightens around Lena’s. Honesty swirls in green orbs and you can’t pretend you haven’t already fallen in love with her.

Merely a few months and she’s captured your heart. Is that not something a person has the right to know? You’ve entrusted her with such a precious part of you and the chances of her breaking it are high. What you don’t know is how much higher the chances of her cherishing are. But you resolve that you’re willing to risk almost anything to find out.

“Lena, there’s-” god why are you tearing up, why is it suddenly a little harder to breathe. If there’s any chance of you telling her it can’t be here.

So you take her to the one safe space you’ve always had at the compound. Lena follows, curiously silent as you tow her to the elevator and ride it up to the second highest floor. A set of stairs take you to your final destination.

The second the brisk New York air hits you inhale, it’s thin sure but it does wonders to calming you. After two, deep, steadying breaths, you fully face the brunette woman. E/c bores into green as you say a silent prayer that this doesn’t implode around you.

“You are in no way obligated to reply to this nor reciprocate, unless of course you feel so inclined.” She frowns at your words and you continue,“ I like you. I mean I love you. And not in the way that I love Winn or Kara or Wanda, I- I want to be with you Lena. You are so goddamn brilliant and caring. Your will to give and help without receiving so much as a nod of recognition is so inspiring.”

When tears shine in Lena’s eyes you understand why you’d teared up moments ago. Emotions like these can be so beautifully overwhelming. Something felt so strongly can only be expressed in a number of ways and tears just so happens to be one of those ways.

Reaching up, you brush the stray tear from her rosy cheek, feeling the cold skin under the pad of your thumb,“ I don’t know much about how the universe works but falling for you feels inevitable.”

“Y/n,” Lena’s hand cups yours over her cheek, both your hearts are pounding, beating the same rhythm for the same reasons,“ I-” you inhale,“ I love you too.” Your exhale fans across the CEO’s red lips right before they crash onto yours.

A tidal wave of happiness washes over you. The warmth of her hand, of her body against yours, it pales in comparison to the heat that her lips bring. Heads tilt in the slightest to allow for a deeper kiss, a longer exchange of emotions and passion.

God if you didn’t have to breathe you’d hold her there forever.

Funnily enough, just as quickly as you pull away, you’re falling back in. Lena’s fingers now gliding gently into the hairs at your nape as yours grip her waist.

Whatever reasons you’d come up with opposing this have long since vanished, seemingly taken away with the rush of wind past you. The fact that you denied yourself the pleasure of this for so long in baffling.

Faces flushed from the cold and this very moment, you and Lena pull apart. Winter’s air makes it just a little harder to catch your breaths. Cold and warm air mixes in the space between you as your foreheads rest against each other.

Both of you need a minute. Not necessarily to process, no this moment is very much real and you both know it. The silence, this pause, it’s needed so as to prolong it. Despite the flurry of snow and wind, you both have to stay in this moment for as long as possible.

If this were a movie, this scene is exactly what every watcher would be waiting for. The crescendo that draws the two lovers together. The rising of their friendship and the climax of what’s to come.

“I love you,” you whisper into the silence.

Lena smiles, a full, euphoric grin splits across her face.“ I love you too.”

How could she not? The way you came into her life, well, the way she stepped into yours honestly, was entirely unexpected. Clicking with you in the way she had was equally as special as it was common.

Lena’s had a number of partners, multiple people who she could formulate and execute an idea with. Something about you though, working with you, brainstorming and creating, it felt like so much more than just the project. Her zeal for her career was never lost. You coming along though, it was as if a power core had been struck by lightning. All that was, now amplified in the best way possible.

Out of everyone in the banquet hall that night she found you. Whatever it was(definitely your reply to Mister Richards routine flirting) drew her in and everything you are, who you are, kept her there. And she’s so incredibly glad she stayed.

The woman curses herself when a shiver wracks her body.

Your soft hands run up and down her arms, warming them and raising goosebumps all at the same time,“ come on, let’s not freeze to death.” You tease.

“I’d hate for that to happen before we’ve even been on date.” She teases back.

Both of you shudder when the warmth inside the building engulfs you, but you’d been outside a little longer than you should’ve. The heating works but you need a faster relief.

So you guide her through the halls to your room. You walk in, the door closing slowly as Lena follows, her eyes taking in the space.

Truthfully it’s not exactly what she expected. While it’s not like the room is a mess or anything, Lena can tell that this is definitely where you spend majority of your time.

Not only is it obvious that you’ve brought your work in here a number of times(little gadgets and small tools splayed across the surface of your desk and dresser), there’s a trash can full of snack wrappers and water bottles, and an article or two of clothing on the floor.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say, quick to tidy everything up,“ me and Wanda had a sleepover last night and I hadn’t had the chance to clean up yet.”

With a nod she walks over to the desk, fingers running over the weapon parts there, some glowing and some not,“ for a moment there I thought you were a mess.” She says.

Laughing, you look back at her,“ I’m the most orderly mess you’ll ever find.”

“I’m sure of it.”

You make quick work of fishing another sweater from your closet. The soft knitted material equally as cute as it is comfortable. With a smile you hand it to Lena and a blush resurfaces as she thanks you.

A part of you, a very very big part, wants to stay in here with Lena for the rest of the night. But your team is still here and there is still a party going on.

“Guess we should head back, last thing we want is a bunch of Avengers and government agents thinking something happened to us.” You say, holding a hand out.

Lena slips hers into yours, fingers lacing together with ease as she stands.

In a moment you can’t resist, you face her, and lean down to plant yet another kiss on her lips. The feeling is quickly becoming intoxicating, a drug you’ll gladly give yourself to, no questions.

With that kiss, you leave out, her hand still in yours. A fact Wanda notices almost instantly.

Your best friend smiles at you brightly as you approach and you shake your head,“ don’t say it.”

She lays a hand on your shoulder, lips pursed in a ‘sorry not sorry’ kind of way,“ I told you so.”

“I know I know.” You roll your eyes good naturedly,“ I should’ve listened to the all knowing Wanda Maximoff.”

The younger woman chuckles, smile turning genuine and serious,“ you deserve this.”

You nod and shortly hug her, a little kiss pressed to her hair.

“And now I have to tell Kara.” She slides from her seat, phone suddenly in her hand, and fingers flying across the screen.

“Wait-” Lena frowns.

“Since when do you and Kara t-”

Wanda throws a dismissive hand up as she steps away,“ I need someone to talk to about this. Obviously.”

Your mouth opens, unspoken words falling short as you sigh. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the two women.“ I have a feeling those two aren’t going to let either of us hear the end of this.”

Kara and Wanda had to watch from the sidelines as you and Lena pined after each other and now that you’re taking steps towards something more serious they can finally speak to both yours and Lena’s obliviousness.

“I agree.” Her hand squeezes yours,“ it’ll be worth it though.”

Just as you had Wanda, with a different love behind it, you kiss Lena’s head. Only for the CEO to quickly kiss your cheek.

She’s not usually one for PDA but this, with you, it’s new and she’s loving it. A few out of character kisses is the least she could do. And they certainly happen a few more times through the night, a little more frequently as the crowd dwindles down.

Eventually it’s down to your team, Pepper, Rhodey, Maria, and Lena. All of you take up a spot on the common room couches. Most of the guys are nursing beers, Lena, Pepper, and Natasha sipping from wine glasses, and the rest of you drinking water.

As tradition had been set, each of you have one singular present in your laps. Since it’s likely you all won’t be together Christmas Eve or day, you decided years ago to do Secret Santa and open the presents together the night before.

Sam is currently gushing over the gun you’d made him. After he saw you using the first model during a mission he begged for one, with your added power effects of course. At the time you told him no but decided it’d make a good gift.

“Don’t say I never gave you nothin.” You tease him.

He presses a hand to his heart, wide brown eyes staring at you gratefully,“ you’re the best.”

You shrug, leaning back into the couch, arm brushing Lena’s,“ I know.”

Next up was Natasha. The small box in her lap had more than a few of you curious.

She shifts in her seat, not a fan of all the attention on her. The quicker she opens it, the quicker you all look away. Her fingers tear the wrapping paper away and she freezes at whatever’s underneath.

Literally everyone else freezes the second Bruce stands from his spot beside her and kneels. He grabs the gift from her lap, a small velvet box sitting in his hand, as the other grabs Natasha.

“Nat.” The name leaves his lips nervously, his smile matching,“ I know things between us seemed, unrealistic, in the beginning. It seemed everything was against us all at once. But we were given another chance two years ago and I’ve fallen more in love with you every second that’s passed since.”

Quiet sniffles come from a number of people in the room but you can’t bring yourself to look away from Natasha. A blank expression sits on your face and not a soul can tell what you’re thinking. And honestly it’s far too much in your head to even begin to answer that if asked.

“Will you, Natasha Romanoff, do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Bruce’s question seems to pull the ex-assassin from whatever reverie she’s in. Green, teary eyes, rise from her lap. Moving right past Banner and landing on you.

A gentle squeeze to your hand grabs your attention and your gaze shifts, flicking from Natasha to Lena. Lighter green eyes stare back, full of concern and wonder, a soft unspoken question of ‘are you okay’ in them.

The corner of your lips tug up in the slightest and you nod, then looking back to Natasha and Bruce. Oddly enough, the redhead is still looking at you. A small, genuine, smile on your lips makes her eyes widen unnoticeably to anyone else.

Just as you, a whirlwind of thoughts are in Natasha’s head, all focusing on you and the brunette man in front of her. She finally looks down to him.

Bruce’s nervous smile and loving brown eyes sends her heart fluttering in a familiar way. Despite the confusion in her head, Natasha nods,“ yes.”

Gleefully, the ring is taken out and slid onto her finger. Once again her gaze flicks to you but back just as quickly. Bruce kisses her and you look away from the passionate moment, even as everyone else cheers.

A round of congratulations circles the group. While you contribute to it, your thoughts still run wild.

It seems you and Lena aren’t the only ones stepping into a more serious relationship. Natasha and Bruce are now engaged.

Merry Fucking Christmas!

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @aaron-despair @cpt-bolter @vxidnik

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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romantichopelessly · 4 years ago

Text

Line Without a Hook

Happy holidays @romanapologist ! I am so so so sorry that this @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift comes to you so late, but I am very bad at checking my email and just found out that I was going to be your pinch hitter. I hope that you enjoy this Intruality hurt/comfort anyway. It came with some help from my wonderful friend @sunshineandteddybears as well.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: When Patton's entire world view is challenged--when he doesn't even know who he is supposed to be anymore, help comes from an unexpected source. Maybe things can be okay after all.

Warnings: This is hurt/comfort, so there is a happy ending. Before that there is descriptions of intrusive thoughts, guilt, depression and negative self talk.

----

Morality was a bit more complex than Thomas had been led to believe when he was younger. No, a lot more complex. When Thomas was just a kid the rules were clear cut. Simple. Don’t fight with your brothers. Do as your parents tell you to. Respect your teachers. Say please and thank you. Don’t lie.

Or do?

Were even those simple, childhood rules concrete anymore? Janus’s words suggested otherwise. And from what Patton could tell, the snake-like side was right. Had been right for a while now, just muffled by Patton’s own ignorance and… pride. His insistence that he had to be the one to help Thomas out of every situation. Was the foundation that Patton had built everything on--Thomas’s feelings, his motivations, his perception of the world--even stable?

Patton himself sure wasn’t.

Even now, sitting in his sepia-toned room, surrounded by stuffed animals and memorabilia that could usually comfort him, when Patton closed his eyes, he could see the green on the edges of his vision. He could hear his own voice, distorted and croaking, feel his heart racing again, the knowledge that he had hurt Thomas, his Thomas, and that he was responsible for years of grief-

Patton choked back on a sob. The lump in his throat was almost unbearable. He pressed his mouth into the back of his panda pillow pet to muffle the sound.

The only thing worse than sitting alone in his room with the crushing knowledge of his failure was the possibility that someone would hear him and come to check on him. The idea of one of the other sides--one of his friends--seeing him like this, weeks after the incident, was unacceptable.

He could just imagine the look of pity that would cross their face. Roman would look so heartbroken to find Patton in such a state. Virgil would probably extend the same amount of kindness that Patton had always shown when he found Virgil in the midst of a panic attack. (But had Patton been kind to do so? Or was it just another form of selfishness? An act born out of guilt for shutting Virgil out for so many years. Was Patton only kind because someone told him to be once? Did he actually love any of them at all? Or was he just destructive?) Logan- Patton was ashamed to admit that he was not sure how Logan would react. He was sure that it would be heartachingly sweet, though. He would probably say something poignant and true that would make Patton feel stupid for ever feeling bad in the first place.

If one of the d- the others found Patton…

It wasn’t like Patton had been avoiding them. In fact, in the days following the… incident… Patton had gone out of his way to seek them out. Janus had been wary at first, and it broke Patton’s heart a bit. The look of distrust in his two-toned eyes. The slight curl of his lip. Confusion? Suspicion? Patton couldn’t tell at the time, and although it had replayed again and again in his mind ever since, he still was not quite sure.

He liked to think that he was doing the right thing now. That he could make things right.

But who was he to judge that anymore?

It was obvious, now, that he had never known what was truly right. He was only just deluded enough, just stupid enough, to assume that his function as Thomas’s Morality was infallible. But his versions of right were wrong. Catastrophically so. Up was down. Left was right. Black was white. Or was gray the new goal? That sounded like something that Janus would say. He was still confused about it.

He was just so stupid.

Another sob was stuck in the back of Patton’s throat. His eyes burned, shame and guilt curling in his stomach in an ugly flash of putrid green and black.

He had carried Thomas’s heart on his sleeve and on his shoulders. And he had buckled under the pressure.

And now Thomas was cracked. And no one knew if it was fixable, least of all Patton.

Grounding. Patton knew, distantly, that he needed to ground himself. But it was borderline impossible with tears clouding his vision and pooling in the frames of his glasses.

How could anyone ground themselves when it felt like the ground was opening underneath them?

Did he even deserve to be grounded? Didn’t Patton deserve to feel this way? After everything that he had done to Thomas, to Virgil, by ignoring his obvious discomfort at Patton’s over exuberant displays of love, to Janus, by pushing his contributions aside for years, hell, even to Logan and Roman. Not to mention Remus, who Patton still did not have the guts to spend more than ten minutes alone with. Who was so, painfully, obviously bereft of love and craving attention. Who looked at Patton like he was a friend, like he was something to smile at, even though Patton had shown him time and time again the exact opposite.

A gasping sob wrenched its way out of Patton’s chest before he could muffle himself with his panda. He didn’t deserve that kind of a second chance. He really, really didn’t.

He deserved nothing other than to sit here alone in his room, with nothing other than his own guilt.

In fact, Patton should probably just stay there, in his room forever. He could do his work as Thomas’s heart and emotions from here, and really that was all that he had ever been any good for anyway.

There was a loud POP from the far side of Patton’s room that startled him into raising his head up from his pillow pet.

Across the room, just beside the door, stood Remus. Patton blinked, stunned. His hair was disheveled, which was not out of the ordinary, the silver streak that ran through his brunette locks sticking up in a wild cow lick. The purple eyeshadow that encircled his eyes gave the unique impression that he was startled. Or perhaps deranged.

“...Remus?” Patton’s voice came out in a weak, watery croak that made him wince. Tears were still fogging his vision, so he couldn’t quite see Remus’s reaction to such a sad sight.

“Pattycake?” The usually taunting nickname sounded surprisingly… soft. The Duke’s voice was almost… gentle. It nearly shocked Patton into stopping crying. Nearly. “What’s up?”

“I’m fine.” Patton responded immediately. Reflexively. He didn’t even bother to try for a smile though, even he knew that it would be weak.

“Don’t try that.” Remus’s voice was steady. He still hadn’t moved from his station at the door. “I could hear you bawling your eyes out from the hallway.”

Patton closed his eyes. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He had been too loud. They had probably all heard him in here, crying like a baby over his own stupid mistakes. And now Remus was here, and could see him, all blotchy and red in the face, his hair messy from when he had been running his hands through it earlier before covering it with the hood of his cat hoodie. Remus was here, and he knew that Patton wasn’t okay right now. Remus was here, and he sounded… sympathetic.

Patton sniffed pathetically. “I’m sorry.” Remus blinked this time, tilting his head at an awkward angle. He looked confused. Patton continued on. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

Remus was silent for a moment. Patton took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stop himself from crying.

“Can I come sit with you?” Remus asked.

Patton swallowed. There was no use in denying the Duke. He pulled his knees closer to himself and gestured to the open space beside him. Remus had crossed the room in an instant and dropped unceremoniously down next to Patton.

“Who upset you?”

Patton looked up, surprised once again. It wasn’t unusual for Remus to say shocking or surprising things, he embodied Thomas’s intrusive thoughts. However, the level of… concern that Remus was showing at the moment was not something that Patton expected.

“If someone said something to you, I can remove their toenails and glue them to their forehead for you.”

Patton bit back a wince. That was more like the Remus that he was becoming used to.

“No one.” Patton answered, truthfully. Remus looked skeptical, so he continued. “No one said anything to me, really. I just… Get down sometimes.”

Remus looked confused. “You mean like depression?”

Patton curled back at the word, as though it were a physical blow.

“Well, fuck, Patty!” Remus sounded much brighter now, and when Patton looked back up, he could see that the other side was smiling. “You could have just said so!”

“It’s not just… that.” Even now, Patton was unable to say it. Unable to admit to it. “I’ve been… thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

The joke startled a chuckle from Patton. It was choked and sad sounding, but it made Remus wiggle proudly nevertheless. Patton sniffed again. “No, not like that, sorry. I just mean that I’ve been… thinking about Thomas. About everything that’s been changing lately.” Patton stared across the room at a painting by 12 year old Thomas that was hanging on his wall. “About… how I’ve been holding him back. I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter what I do to try and fix things.”

“Then don’t!”

Patton blinked in confusion, tilting his head in confusion as he sniffed one more. “Huh?” he couldn’t help but mumble out. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to fix things.” The Duke grinned widely, showing off teeth. He seemed so proud of himself, but Patton was still confused. How could he not try to fix things? He kept messing things up, so he had to find a way to do it right this time. He needed to. “But-” A hand clamped onto his back, making him startle and tense. It left just as quickly as it came, Remus pulling it away as if he had been burned.

“Oops, sorry. Forgot to ask if that was okay.”

Patton frowned. He hadn’t meant to make the other side feel like touching him had been a bad thing. He typically loved physical affection! He just hadn't expected it, that’s all! But now he went and made Remus feel bad, because apparently that was all he could do lately-

“Anyways,” the Duke continued, his tone unbothered, “you don’t have to fix everything, Pattycakes. Especially by yourself. Sometimes things aren’t as broken as you think they are, and don’t really need fixing at all. Sometimes things fix better when you leave them alone and let time work itself out. And sometimes, you take it to a specialist who knows better than you on how to fix it.” That sounded… rather wise. It was more than a bit unexpected, coming from a side that was currently picking his nose as he gave his advice. But Patton was quickly learning that the others had more to offer than their appearance suggested.

Still... “How do I know which kind of thing this is?”

“You don’t.” Well, that was disappointing. “At least, I never do. Not right away. After a while you start to figure it out, but even then you can still mess up sometimes. But that’s okay.” Grinning a little more softly, Remus looked right into Patton’s eyes. “No matter what, you got others around who can help you. Even when you don’t think you need it, or aren’t allowed to ask for it, they’re there. Like plumbers or doctors! Better to use them than to play handyman or diagnose yourself with WebMD. Get your kids fucking vaccinated Karen!”

A startled laugh escaped Patton at that. He was a little in disbelief over the suddenness of it, but he sounded a little less like he was going to burst into more tears.

Remus seemed to take that as a victory as he cackled quietly himself. “I’m not sure if anything I’m saying makes any sense, but things are gonna be okay. Your world’s been shaken to its core, but it’s still in one piece. Mostly. Just gotta adapt now.” Patton rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, they felt puffy and a little itchy, as he hummed in thought. “But what about Thomas and everyone else? The pain I’ve caused them…” “Did you say sorry?”

“Well, yes-” “Then the only thing you can do now is learn and work to do better next time.” Remus sounded so sure, so certain. But it couldn’t be that easy could it? “You don’t gotta keep apologizing for the same stuff. We’ve all done bad things before, me especially! Thomas is still standing, and not too worse for wear.” He couldn’t deny the truth of that. Thomas was still more or less in one piece. “He’ll be okay, and so will we. So will you.”

A small smile formed on Patton’s lips. It wobbled and didn’t go very far, but it was genuine. It was hard to shake away his worries, his fears, of the damage he caused and the future, how he’d fit in it. But Remus’s words helped. Made the knot in his chest loosen just a bit. “Thank you Remus.” The Duke stared wide eyed at him, suddenly seeming shocked and dazed. “Remus?”

The other jumped, snapping out of whatever spell he was under. “H-huh? Oh!” Dusting of pink coated Remus’ cheeks, stretched up as he smiled brightly. “Sorry. Not used to people thanking me. Also your smile is fucking adorable.” Now it was Patton’s turn for pinkened cheeks. “Oooooh that little blush is cute too! And it goes to your ears!”

Oh, that was embarrassing.

“Stoooooop!” He whined out, burying his now red face into his pillow pet again.

“Oh. Not okay to say, gotcha.” Patton’s head shot up at that, in time to see Remus frown down at his shoes. “You know I just sorta blurt out everything that comes to mind.”

“No, it’s okay.” Patton said, uncurling a little bit more. “I just felt embarrassed that’s all. It’s silly.” Remus’s frown deepened and he shook his head.

“Silly isn’t bad, but your feelings aren’t silly. So if you don’t like it, just say so. It’s not gonna hurt me any.” It was an easy out Remus was giving him, allowing him a chance to put barriers between them. But Patton was trying to move past those, wanted to move past them.

“No, it’s okay. I promise.” Slowly, Patton reached out and stuck out his pinky. “Pinky promise.” Remus snorted at that, but there was a playful gleam in his eyes. He wrapped his own pinky, that thankfully wasn’t from the nose picking hand, around Patton’s and cackled.

“In Japan, when someone makes a pinky promise they have a saying that threatens the person promising to not lie, or else they’ll cut off their finger and punch them ten thousand times and make them swallow a thousand needles.” That was a very gruesome image that Patton wished he hadn’t pictured. “Don’t worry though, I won’t do that to you. I like your hands too much.”

“O-oh?” Remus liked his hands? That was nice.. Maybe? “Why my hands?” “Well I like everything about you Pattycakes. So naturally, hands fall under that category.” Heat returned to Patton’s cheeks, blooming them in pink once more. “Awww the blush is back!” Remus shrieked with glee, kicking his feet wildly. “Wanna watch a movie?” The non sequitur nature of the question had the moral aspect blinking before he could fully process it.

“Um..” He didn’t really want to leave his room just yet, he didn’t feel quite ready. But a movie sounded nice, and he found himself wanting to spend more time in the Duke’s company. “Can we watch it in here?”

“You got it Pattycakes!”

Relief and a surprising… warmth filled him at that, his smile growing a little bit more. “Thanks.”

#intruality #remus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #dukality #ts patton #ts remus #ts intruality #moduke #ts moduke #Lucy if ur reading this I hope u like it #bc I did have a writers spiral in the middle of writing this bc I thought it was v bad #but I wanted to get it out to u bc it’s so late ))):#that being said I did not post something I rly think is bad sksnkxkdks I’m rambling

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yongiefilms · 4 years ago

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FILM | Together Alone

BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas headquarters

DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.

STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader

FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes

PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.

RUNNING TIME | 6.4k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun, you’re the best.

1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...

“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.

The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”

Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was.

“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Perhaps his father was a part of that.

“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.

They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth.

“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.

“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.

It was true after all.

Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.

Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”

Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”

“Guess not, that man is my father.”

“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.

“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”

Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!”

The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”

“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.

“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that.

“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.

“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.

Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”

Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”

“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.

“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.

Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”

“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”

The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.

Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.”

His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone.

With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.

He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle.

Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”

The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see.

Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by.

Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone.

Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come.

A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain.

Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.

Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary.

He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited.

A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”

Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again.

“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.”

He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book.

His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow.

The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him.

When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”

Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.

The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held.

The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.

Yet that would not be the last time.

Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end.

He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six.

Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room.

No privacy. No sense of normality.

That is the normal.

The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy.

He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of.

He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.

Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”

Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”

Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight.

Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”

Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”

Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.”

Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.

Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call.

“A Negroni, on the rocks.”

The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them.

The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.

He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.”

A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni.

His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?”

Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.

“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.

Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.

Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”

“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself.

Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far.

The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”

You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit.

Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation.

He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?”

Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.”

Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”

Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”

Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.

“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.

“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with.

Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses.

“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass.

He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”

She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”

He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”

Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”

He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.”

He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”

She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding.

He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make.

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.

He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”

“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling.

There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance.

In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.

“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago.

Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”

You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.

The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue.

“You want to get out of here?”

To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.

You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”

A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.”

He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.”

You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up.

Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.

“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go.

He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.”

Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.

He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”

“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”

He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”

You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.

“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.

“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”

Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.

The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.

“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.

Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”

You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.

He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.”

You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”

It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”

You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you.

Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.

He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.

You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”

You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?

Then everything happens at once.

His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made.

Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds.

He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.

You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more.

When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.

He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.

The frantic beats of two hearts.

The heat of skin pressed against skin.

Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit.

You lost yourself in him that night and he in you.

Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.

Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.

You wake to a cold bed the next morning.

Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for.

Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.

Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.

Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.

Gone is he—Huang Renjun.

All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would.

Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.

He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal.

Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone.

You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself.

Never the two.

Always one or the other.

You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.

That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.

Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.

Alone.

Never together.

Like he and you.

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wolfstar-supremacy-innit · 4 years ago

Text

"Tell who?"- Part 1

Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Alternatively:

The Marauders are in their 6th year at Hogwarts, it's New Year's Eve and Remus writes a New Year's resolutions list. Sirius finds it the next day. The story is written from Remus' point of view. It's wolfstar and lighthearted. Kinda inspired by this fanfic.

This is part 1 of the story. I will be posting the other parts separately here and also the full fic on ao3 (I will link everything when it's done, check this post for that in some time). Warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of anxiety disorder.

Enjoy! :)

Part 2 Part 3

Remus sat on the windowsill in the 6th year boys’ dormitory rolling a cigarette with magic. Well, trying to. He carefully placed the tobacco and filter on the small paper and tapped it with his wand, but half of the contents plopped out. The spell needed perfecting, obviously. Remus had picked up the habit of smoking socializing with some muggle kids back home during that summer. He knew it was stupid, but he had thought it looked cool. Later, he also found out he quite liked the lightheadedness that followed smoking a cigarette quickly. And some more time after that, there was a boy at school to try to impress, but that's a little embarrassing to admit. A nicotine addiction was surely well on its way to becoming a reality, but Remus didn't like to think about that. And anyway, with the war looming over everyone's head, who cares if a 16-year-old werewolf is addicted to nicotine? The problem was that cigarettes were expensive and Remus didn't have a lot of money to spare, so he resigned to rolling as it was cheaper and lasted longer. With some practice, he'll be able to assemble them with magic effortlessly anyway.

"Hiya, Moony," James said, walking into the room, "you're not getting ready?"

"Yes, I am." Remus pointed at his cigarette rolling arrangement, although James was probably referring to the fact that he wasn't dressed for a party.

It was the 31st of December. The four of them were staying at Hogwarts for the entirety of the holidays, given that the full moon had been on the 26th. Well, that was the excuse they gave their parents. The real reason why they hadn’t gone to the Potters after the 26th, where they usually spent the Christmas holidays, was that Sirius had stumbled upon a flyer for a gig and party occurring in Hogsmeade that Friday. James and Sirius were ecstatic, but Remus was pretty apathetic towards the idea of going. With his crush on his best friend and all. In fact, he had been trying to steer clear of settings in which he was sure Sirius would look particularly, well, hot. However, there was a flaw in his thinking, he had realised. Day by day, Sirius was beginning to look extraordinarily hot to Remus in every setting, and there was nothing he could do about it.

When Sirius had arrived at their train compartment at the beginning of that school year, Remus was very, very confused. Sirius had run away from home and spent the majority of the summer at the Potters, but in the two months, he had changed profoundly. Although they had been exchanging letters the whole summer, nothing could've prepared Remus for the feeling of panic bubbling up in him when Sirius had stepped through the sliding doors. After finally being released from his family's clutches, the freedom and eagerness to express himself had been immediately evident. Sirius had let his hair grow out longer than usual, past his shoulders, messier and curlier, but all the better looking (if that was even possible). He'd gotten taller and his shoulders broader, his muggle clothes sitting flawlessly on his lean figure. He’d looked cool, to say the least- chunky black lace-up boots, black trousers, a small silver loop earring in one ear and, of course, a black leather jacket. Remus had been perplexed and silent the whole train ride. What is wrong with me, he had thought. It wasn't envy or disapproval. It was excitement for his best friend's joy after years of trauma, of course, it was. But what the hell was that lump in his throat and the inability to look Sirius in the eye? Later that week, as Sirius had stepped out of the bathroom with his shirt hanging loosely around his neck exposing his prominent collarbones, Remus had realised with a sinking feeling that it all impossibly resembled a crush. A crush on Sirius?? I am so fucked, he had thought as he swallowed a lump.

In the following months, Remus had been desperately attempting to push his feelings into the deep dark depths of his mind and just forget about it. Still, as it turned out, Sirius' natural charm and charisma were impossible to look past. He would casually sling his arm over Remus' shoulders on their way to class or wink at him when James said a sentence without picking up on the innuendo of it. And it made Remus' heart jump out of his chest. On top of all that, Sirius was, in all likelihood, the most handsome bloke in the whole of Britain. So much so that talking to him made Remus' stomach twist with nervous energy most of the time. Anxious talking to my best friend of five years... He felt completely off his rocker.

In the present time, Sirius threw the dorm door open, stepping inside with Peter following and Remus jumped a little. "Lads," he said rubbing his palms together, "tonight's the night. We're getting plastered!"

"No," Remus said, still struggling with the cigarettes, now resolving to roll them manually. He wasn't very keen on his big mouth outrunning his drunk brain as it so usually happened after a few drinks. And now he had a dangerous secret to keep...

"Oh come on, Moony! This is our night off the chain!" There wasn't much Remus could say no to with those big grey eyes looking into his. Before he could say anything, Sirius asked: "Mate, could you roll me a few?" He had picked smoking up from Remus, of course. Sirius had said it looked "wicked" and “punk rock”. Remus was more proud of that than he was willing to admit.

"Sure," Remus replied.

"Cheers." Sirius winked at Remus and his stomach flipped. "Right. I'm going to get ready. We gotta clear off when I get out," Sirius said disappearing into the bathroom.

Remus successfully rolled up enough cigarettes for him and Sirius and placed them into his case. Oblivious to James' and Peter's conversation, Remus contemplated how he would survive the night. He'll have his cigs and the music, he concluded. He'll be fine.

He changed into his teal sweater and dark jeans and plopped onto his bed, gazing into the wooden board above him for a while. He sighed. In a few hours, 1976 would die and the illusion of a new slate in the form of a new year will be born. Remus was aware it was silly, but he liked creating little lists of goals for himself for the following year. They were never anything revolutionary, just a couple of small and realistic things he would like to accomplish. He thought about it for a few moments, then reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out some parchment, ink and a quill. He wrote:

1977 New Years resolutions:

1. Get mum that record she's been talking about for months now

2. Master the cig rolling spell

3. Improve on non-verbal magic

4. Complete that muggle reading challenge Lilly and I compiled

Sirius then came out of the bathroom dolled up and with very discreet lines of black eyeshadow around his eyes. The parchment and quill slipped from Remus’ fingers. The deep grey now stood out even further than usual. "Should we get a move on, then?" Remus rolled on his bed, pressed his face into the pillow and groaned softly, pretending it was because of his reluctance to go. He didn't know how many more of Sirius' little surprises he could take before his head imploded. This was clearly one of those times Sirius would look just exceptionally fucking fit.

"You're wearing that, Moony?" Remus picked his head up to look at Sirius, not being able to suppress the disappointment that was creeping up.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, you wear sweaters every day, don’t you? This is a party we’re going to!” Remus sat up and peered at him silently, allowing himself to take a better look at the eyeshadow that suited him wonderfully.

“Where did you get that?” James piped in, finally noticing Sirius’ make up.

“Borrowed it from Marls. Now, Moony, let’s see...” He started rummaging through his wardrobe and emerged with a dark grey shirt with a band logo on it. “Here you go, mate.” Sirius held it up for him to look at, then tossed it on the werewolf’s bed. Remus loved that shirt, especially because it was one of Sirius’ favourites.

“It’s December,” Remus said, but excitement was swirling in his stomach at the thought of wearing Sirius’ clothes. “Well, wear your coat.” He flashed Remus a smile. As the other boys started pilling their belongings into their pockets and putting on jackets, Remus reflected on changing into the shirt. Then he did it, quickly. Heat rose swiftly up his neck and cheeks at the realisation it smelled like Sirius. It felt like he would melt into the carpet any second now. Maybe he could allow himself to simmer in his infatuation just for tonight.

“Looking good.” Sirius smiled at him in the mirror as Remus checked himself out. The blush intensified.

The four boys crept down hallways using the Marauder’s Map to avoid Filch and the teachers and made it safely to the One-Eyed Witch Statue on the third floor. Sirius and James were practically skipping down the secret passage leading to Honeydukes. Even Remus felt a little giddy, but that may or may not have been because of the shirt. They arrived at the pub without hindrances and made their way inside. The place was loud and crowded as they pushed their way to a round wooden bar table. There were decorative lights of different shapes and sizes everywhere as well as tiny glass lanterns with magical flames flickering inside. The atmosphere was bewitching.

“Right,” Sirius clapped his hands, “what’re we drinking?”

Remus wanted a Butterbeer, but it was decided on his behalf that he would be having Firewhiskey. After all, Sirius was now of age and this was his first opportunity to take advantage of it. And so, Remus was coerced into his first glass of alcohol. He downed it quickly when the first girl approached Sirius. This was nothing new, of course. He was showered in attention from girls at school all the time. What was different now was that it gravely bothered Remus. However, Sirius paid no attention to the lady and instead turned to Remus to ask for a cigarette. Sirius smoking was a work of art; Remus could testify to that.

After the first drink, it was no trouble following up with more and the boys wanted to try weird sounding beverages from the menu. Thick, white smoke covered their table when James brought over the Simison Steaming Stout. Later, Remus had a shot (or three) of something called Checker’s Quick Everclear which made him inexplicably snap his fingers a few times after swallowing it. It was incredibly amusing and enough to get him rather half cut. After that, things became somewhat fuzzy. The band was fine, so they danced and drank and Remus felt just swell. It could’ve had something to do with Sirius ignoring the girls or plainly the amount of alcohol in his blood. By the time people began counting down from ten, Remus had half lost his ability to comprehend what was going on. He caught sight of James hugging Sirius when the clock hit midnight as the two of them shouted: “Happy New Year!” A couple seconds later Remus felt hands around himself and realised James hugged him next, yelling the same words, frankly a bit too close to his ear. It seemed that James was either holding his drinks well or just hadn’t drank that much. Sirius’ eyes, however, were half-closed, Remus noticed, as he moved to embrace him. It was just a smidge underwhelming. Remus was numb all over and barely felt the touch of Sirius’s arms over the colossal spike of adrenaline that flashed in his insides. He likely held him tighter than necessary and reluctantly pulled away when Sirius did too. Their cheeks brushed briefly in the process. When Remus looked at him, Sirius was smiling. His hair was messy, lips full and smooth. The eyeshadow hadn’t moved. Remus almost leaned in, but chose to just smile back instead. I have a secret to keep. Big secret. Scary secret. He slyly avoided hugging Peter (who was really sweaty) as his stupid, drunk brain kept repeating: Big. Scary. Secret. Secret. But he had already forgotten what was so confidential. He was really fuckin’ pissed, wasn’t he? Remus sniggered to himself.

Sirius and James wanted to go to the dancefloor and Peter followed them. Remus, however, wasn’t quite sure he could stand very well without having a table to hold on to once in a while. So he stayed put, fetched a cigarette from his case, lit it with his wand and leaned on his forearms on the table. Reveling in the fact that that he was allowing himself to feel all his forbidden feelings tonight, Remus observed Sirius in a manner he hoped was subtle. Sirius was dancing with his eyes closed, smooth, controlled movements, face tilted upwards. Christ, Remus banged his forehead on the table, why does he have to look like that?! It felt strangely pleasant, so he stayed in that position for some time. His head was swaying lightly and he got an inexplicable urge to laugh.

“Alright, Moony,” a voice brought him back to reality. Remus forced his head up.

“Splendid,” he said. Sirius smiled at him.

“We got any more fags?”

“Yup.” He pulled out the case out of his back pocket and handed it to Sirius, just as he asked: “Having fun, Moony?” Remus’ mouth stretched into a stupid, crooked smile.

“Oh, I’m having a brilliant time.”

“Good.” Sirius struggled pulling his wand out of the pocket of his tight-fitting (Sigh...) jeans. Remus brought his own wand to the cigarette hanging from the other boy’s lips and produced miniature blue flames. Sirius sucked in the smoke, held it briefly, then exhaled. “Cheers.”

Remus downed whatever it was leftover in James’ glass. Then his mind blacked out. The next thing he was aware of was being dragged up the stairs by James to their dormitory. “You’re a miracle,” he mumbled, thinking how James could have possibly snuck him through the castle in this state without getting caught. James laughed softly.

“Okay, Moony.”

Remus plopped on his bed face first and let out a long, loud half-sigh, half-groan. He heard Sirius laugh from his own bed. “Nooo, we’re not getting plastered tonight! No waaay,” he said in a teasing voice. Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Part 2 Part 3

#wolfstar #harry potter #hp #fanfic #marauders #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #mine #pining #friends to lovers #fluff #marauders era fic #marauders era #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #jilly #wolfstar fic

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

Text

|UNWRAP ME| M|

Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)

“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”

About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!

Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....

WC: Sneak peek (1k)

WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking

FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?

*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!

*In true Rocki fashion I decided to do holidy prompts late af & did not finish in time for the main Holiday but w/e! Note, there is some backstory here bc this was set to be the 1st of 3 holiday prompts!** ___________________________________________________

Sunday, December 14TH, 4PM

“Alright, so you wanna hear some bullshit?!”

K, well that’s apparently Jimin, musing around a mouth full of fries! I love how no one even bothers to knock, give notice they just show the fuck up! Whenever...

Cute.

I swear it sounds like your running a damn liquor store because there’s an obnoxious amount of bells and mistletoe hanging above the door almost acting as a doorbell at this point. Just casually Fa-la-laing together, echoing throughout your entire apartment every damn time the door opens! Honestly, your slowly regretting giving Jin and Tae free reign with decorations because that shits annoying as all hell!

Gaze still focused on your original task, not even looking in his direction “Don’t trip over the-“ There's a loud thud, followed by an obscene groan, accompanied by an even louder “Fuckkk!” Which solidified he did in fact trip over the ....

“....Box with Jin’s other Christmas tree in it ...” The words kinda died off your tongue at this point because well, clearly the warning did not fare well! “If anything’s broken I’m totally snitching just so we’re clear” Sassing over a half empty glass of spiked eggnog.

Now that you’ve finally looked at him, you find yourself hiding a smirk behind your cocktail as well! The boy is fine, you’d give him that! Looking like a model off duty, in his low cut white v, neck hidden beneath a distressed leather jacket! Topping off the look with a pair of chunky combats and disrespectfully tight dark wash denim jeans! I swear they damn near looked painted on, aviators resting on the bridge of his nose! Gucci backpack slung over his shoulder, Starbucks in one hand, and some brown bag full of grease in the other! Jimin recently went back red, looking dangerously close to the same 18 year old you met, at UCLA almost years ago now! Just a boujier version, it’s like this Jimin’s from Calabasas instead of the Bay! Though your down for both options if we’re being real!

Not that Jimin’s not equally as good of company as well, you were honestly just expecting Tae! The two of you were starting to put together the gift bags for next week's holiday party! Hints the hot ass mess all over the floor of your living room, it’s a disgusting pile of shopping bags and boxes! Everything from Amazon to Saks Fifth, at this point you aren’t even sure where the fuck your floor starts or ends! One thing you do know for damn sure is Hobi’s going to have an aneurysm If he sees it! Sooo, hopefully Tae shows up sooner than later...

It’s become a tradition, or at least since the companies been profitable enough to do so! First off, you’re love language has always been a combination of “Gifts” and “Acts of service, so shit like this is essentially second nature!

However, quality time has slowly slipped its way into the mix over the past couple of years as well! Especially considering it’s almost a luxury for the seven of you at this point but you try not to complain! I mean Namjoon and yourself just did an interview last week for Forbes 30 under 30 for fucks sake! But anyway, like I was originally saying this little party is your way of trying to give your staff a combination of all 3 said love languages!

Above everything else you all work your asses off well, aware this is far from a 9-5, yet they give you their best constantly! Yeah, it was built on the backs of you and your boys but it wouldn’t be were it is now without everyone else! So, with that being said the schedule is as follows!

1.Bust ass and hit all of your year end deadlines by December 22nd.

2.The holiday party is on the 23rd...

3. Thennnnnn....after that the companies closed until the 2nd of January!

Well kinda, if we’re being real the 7 of you never fully stop working, but you damn sure plan to try! I guess it’s the beauty and the curse of having damn near everything accessible on your phone! I swear this morning Joon was washing your back whilst you read him the latest profit/loss update from Jin soooo......that’s that!

Everyone else however....off duty with pay!

Which brings us back to the original task at hand before Jimin showed up,prepping the gift bags that get handed out at said holiday party! The invite list is pretty exclusive honestly,outside of your staff, and there plus one, the other guests are typically the immediate crew/ talent used throughout the year on various productions! Oh, there’s also special little packages mailed out to a couple of the company's sponsors as well! So all together were looking at at least 100 gift bags give or take! Of course at this stage you guys go all out but that’s not what it’s about! It’s legitimately the thought that counts!

Little gestures like this just remind people that you care,that they’re on your mind even if they aren’t currently doing you a favor! That’s what sets Onyx apart, all the little things you do without even thinking about it! Coffee, donuts, catering on set for long shoots,or even the little kits Jimin brings with him to set for the models! Fully stocked with soothing cream, heating pads, the full nine! It’s actually sad how much of a rarity it is in your line of work!

Obviously, it goes without saying that those types of gestures aren’t feasible for everyone....However there’s companies worth more than you that do amples less!

But anyway back to Jimin and Tae! As I mentioned when the door originally opened you were expecting a mop of silver locks as opposed to red! Baby boy ran out to pick up the custom gift bags from this Indie vendor in WeHo. Hint’s why you were expecting Tae instead, now, why Jimins here I have no damn idea! Clearly we’re about to find out and apparently it’s “Some Bullshit!”

Honestly outside of checking his OOTD you didn't truly look at him. Far too busy propped on top of your oversized dining room table sorting through a manusery of “Thank you” cards!

Eyes flicking to the left ever so slightly as you hear him shuffle closer “I-yeah sure what bullsh-wait are you eating my DoorDash?!”

It’s the way you constantly have to remind yourself that jail will not be like Orange is in the new black! Because I swear you damn near chucked this martini glass at that fire engine red dome of his!

Jimin just shrugs, a little nonchalant and unenthusiastic, almost as if he’s inconvenienced actually...

“Mmm, depends on perspective” He deadass just stuffed two more fires in his mouth! You're literally going to strangle him! It’s borderline painful how hard your jaw tick, eyes narrowed in his direction!

Brows arched so damn high your gonna end up needing Botox from the permanent crease embedding within your skin. “Perspect-your literally eating-“

Holding a solitary finger in your direction “Tae just text me and said look at your phone and text him back...with like, a million pouty faces. Also, different note, who changed the decorations I placed on the mantle?! “

Jimin’s hand is now resting on his hip, legitimately angry about these damn decorations! I think his neck even did a couple rolls in the process, and I’m willing to bet,before he leaves they will be swapped out again!

A frustrated groan attempts to leave your throat though it goes unacknowledged as your lacking any ounce or bite! Far too fond of both of your boys to truly be agitated at the moment! Actually that’s a lie, you high key wanna punch Jimin but it’s fine ....

“That, would be Jin, he said they clashed with the table decor” Pointing to all of the gold, and maroon colored decorations donning the marble coffee table “So, if your pissed go curse him out because I could give less than a damn! Now where the fuck is my phoneeee”

Hopping off the table causing your oversized UCLA Alum hoodie to hike over your ass. Said ass is covered or barely covered considering your cheeky, red, ruffle little panties are in fact assless! A cute little bow perched right on top of your tailbone, as if to direct the eye where to go….

Jimin is now choking on stolen fires and yeah there’s a smirk on your face as you grab your phone!

Mmmmhmmmm...and to think, maybe if he wasn’t being such a brat you’d let him unwrap one of his gifts a little early!

“Baby now he’s calling meeee” Anddddd he’s whining, wiggling his phone like it’s on fire! Ya know, moments like these in fact remind you that Tae and Jimin are the youngest!

“Oh for fucks sake!” Huffing in his direction snatching the phone and bag of Five Guys away in the process!

“Yes baby?” It’s actually terrifying how quickly your tone, and entire demeanor just switched! Somewhat reminiscent to how you’d see a mom scold one child then baby talk another all in the same breath!

Jimin without a doubt noticed too, lip jutting out in a pout and no matter how many times you roll your eyes you still find yourself leaning forward kissing it right off! He moans into it and you Instantly taste the tangy seasoning from your fries, especially once he tries to swipe his tongue past the seam of your lips. The feeling of that tiny piece of metal playing in his mouth almost distracted you, but alas...the notion immediately reminds you why you were irked to begin with! Without even thinking you lean back into nipping at his bottom lip, though...this is Jimin we’re dealing with here! So whatever you thought you’d achieve is now dead, because a needy little whine just rustled in the back of his throat

Speaking of love languages,there’s another called “Physical Touch” which has the words Jimin Park written all over it. So with that being said you really should’ve already been prepared for whatever’s about to unfold.

It’s subconscious at this point, head dropping down to the crook of your neck, nosing up a vein like a neglected puppy! Squeezing your waist hard enough to damn near engrave his thumb print in against your hip bones! Well, clearly he doesn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon!

So what do you do instead? Place the bag of food on the bar, hold the phone in one hand and bring the other up to play in his freshly dyed locks! I swear this man is a second away from purring so maybe he’s not a puppy after all. Suddenly his ring clanned fingers trickle down your spine heading south, flexing his palm to squeeze down around the swell of your ass! Shifting you forward so your chest to chest...

So, here you are trying to cater to both of your boys at once...lord help you!

“No, of course I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just busy-yes Tae. You wanna put what in a what,Now?”

~~~~~

Hiii, as I mentioned above this was kinda last minute, I wrote out prompts on the 21st, then adult life kicked in. I actually had my own little office Christmas party to plan (Nothing on this scale obviously because well, we know the way the real world is rn) However because of that I couldn’t truly work on this until the 24th. However it’s been a long time since I wrote/wanted to write so I opted to just post it anyway! Hopefully the full thing will be up by the 28th at the latest.

I have also attached the overall masterlist for this AU!

7 DEEP

#jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts au #kpop #kpop smut #bts poly #bts poly au

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years ago

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x gn!Reader

genre: fluff, a small part of angst but all ends well ;)

word count: 2.4K words

a/n: my part of the christmas collab called ‘The Triangle That Defines Our Existence’, hosted by the lovely, amazing, incredibly talented, the sweetest human being who deserved the entire world @dearncityy (ღˇ◡ˇ)♥, thank you for allowing me to be part of this (੭ु｡╹▿╹｡)੭ु⁾⁾ ᶦ'ˡˡ ᵐᶦˢˢ ᵘ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᶦᶠ ᵘ ᵈᵉᶜᶦᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ

my masterlist | event’s masterlist!!!!

You know how souls are connected? How soulmates are created from the stardust of the same explosion, traveling for millions of years through time and space just to end up meeting in the same coffee shop down the road over a spilled latte after living thousands of miles away for their entire lives? How oceans and mountains, galaxies and dimensions, hate and love tear them apart but this small string, thinner than a strand of hair, but stronger than an entire army brings them back together? How fate works?

Do you think snowflakes miss each other? Born from the same cloud, fluffy and blue, the interest of any curious child’s eyes and just the stretch of an arm away, almost like-

“The blue one, please!”

“Can I get the blue?”

The owner of the candy floss shop stared flabbergasted at the pair of you, hands stretched towards him with bills clutched in-between your fingers.

“I’m sorry but it seems like there is only one left and we’re out of blue colorant.”

At the newfound information, the boy beside you turned to you abruptly, cheeks flushed and determined shiny eyes.

“I believe I was here first, so I should be the one to get it.”

“Excuse me but you believe wrong, if anything, I asked for it first.”

You both scoffed in disbelief and carried on arguing as the owner watched with apologetic eyes while a line of equally impatient children accompanied by their parents whined for their own sweet treat.

“So therefore, as I have stated in my previous point of my thesis, I-”

“Move, we’ve been waiting here for 5 minutes already-”

Your new archnemesis turned to the kid behind him who dared interrupt his essay with burning eyes which might have just melted the frozen snot peeking from the child’s nostrils.

“Shut up, you bogey-eater garden dwarf! Learn how to respect your elders! You should- Hey!”

As you could tell the child’s mother’s eyes bulging out of their sockets and the choice of words directed towards her son, you quickly shoved the money in the owner’s hands, grabbed the stick of the blue candy floss with one hand, using the other one to drag the boy away from the commotion he himself caused before he lost an ear to the mom’s fury.

“Hey! Hey, you thief! How dare you-”

“Oh shut that trap for once, better thank me for dragging you away before that mother pulled a Van Gogh on you.”

He dusted himself off once you let go as if filth has touched him and you heavily debated just slamming the entire sticky candy on top of his head, but you decided against it. You worked to hard for it just to waste it on a head that didn’t even deserve it.

“This isn’t over, I still want that candy floss.”

“Let’s just share.”

He looked like he wanted to protest but he most likely couldn’t come with a better idea so he just sighed and shrugged dismissively. You both settled down on a bench on the side of the Christmas-decorated street and didn’t waste a second to dig into the cloud of sweetness.

“So... should I ask for the name of the person I fought tooth and bone for blue candy floss?”

“You want to go back and ask that kid? I’m not sure you’ll get out alive.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow and you both broke into smiles. He turned to look at you and you met his honey filled eyes, colorful lights dancing in them and it seemed like entire galaxies were celebrating the upcoming holiday too.

“Donghyuck. Friends call me Hyuck or Haechan. So you can call me Donghyuck.”

You deadpanned, but it only made him giggle louder. His nose was even more flushed than his cheeks and you couldn’t help but admire the way the rosy pink blended in with the natural tan of his skin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he scrunched his nose mid laugh and you could understand why universes decided to reside in him.

“I hope you choke on candy floss.”

He only laughed harder and if Christmas was a laugh, it would have been Donghyuck’s, pure and hopeful.

“But what is my knight’s in shining armor’s name?”

“It’s Y/N. So you can’t call me. Ever.”

Despite your threatening tone, his smile didn’t lose its brightness. If anything, it shone brighter, lights and colors and happiness playing along his features and you couldn’t help but think that the moles on his face created constellations with the stars in his eyes. You saw art in what others saw as incident.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened as he stared at you, an exaggerated gasp leaving his lips before he exclaimed.

“A snowflake! It’s snowing! It’s snowing on Christmas Eve!”

“What? Where?”

“It’s on your nose!”

Your eyes crossed as you tried to catch sight of the small ounce of snow that settled on the tip of your nose. Donghyuck stared smugly as you turned accusingly and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re making fun of me!”

“I’m not! It really is-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you jumped in your seat.

“Donghyuck, one landed on your nose too! It’s there! It’s really snowing!”

And sure enough, one white traveller after another found their ways down in a whirlwind, waltzing on the last steps to their final destination in the eyes of thousands of admirers.

“Now we have matching snowflakes!”

Donghyuck laughed fondly at your excited tone, watching your enraptured eyes light up like a child’s and he thought that he might have found his Polaris. Right under his nose, he had found the brightest star in his sky.

“Yeah, do you think they were competing for candy floss too?”

“Maybe they confused it with their home. Don’t you think it resembles a cloud in this lighting? Maybe they thought they have found their way back home.” You pondered for a while, before grinning. “Mine won anyway.”

“Pffft, mine must have been confused by yours. How could you confuse candy floss for a cloud?”

You just shrugged, munching on the last bit of the sweet treat.

“Oh, Y/N, how much was it? Let me pay for my half.”

You thrust your phone in his directions, cheeks flushed less from the cold and more from the embarrassment of your next words. Donghyuck watched as you fidgeted in your place, his own expectant excitement building up inside of him as he accepted your phone gingerly.

“The cost is your phone number and a promise to share candy floss again. Only if you want to of course, don’t feel obligated to-”

“Let’s confuse snowflakes again, maybe it’ll snow again. My treat.”

You both smiled so largely your cheeks hurt the entire night.

~~~~

Your snowflakes decided to travel together on that fated day so you and Donghyuck decided to take their example. You stuck together and time didn’t seem to pass in the same way it used to. A year turned into a month, a month into a week, a week into a day and this day into a second. A second spent together. A second you cherished more than entire years. The second Donghyuck decided you put the moon and stars in the sky, or rather the single sparkly star on top of his Christmas tree.

“Stick that fucking star on that branch or I swear it’s either you’re taking a dive into the floor or my back will crack so loud your grandkids feel shivers down their own spine!”

“I’m obviously trying, Donghyuck! The branch is too thick, it won’t fit-”

“That’s what she said- oof!”

You made sure to dig your heel into his ribs hard enough to shut him up.

“Don’t you dare taint this holy evening with your bull!”

He grumbled under his breath but didn’t retort anything and struggled obediently to hold you up for long enough for you to put the finishing touch to his, no, both of yours’ Christmas tree: a silver, shining star.

“I told you it would be easier if we simply used a ladder, but nooo.”

“Where is the romance in that?”

“And where is the romance in me cracking your back and possibly falling on top of this tree?”

Your boyfriend groaned at your smart reply, tapping your thigh impatiently.

“Finally! You can put me down, the asshole has saddled up!”

“Never phrase it like that again please.”

After you were lowered, you both stepped back to admire the piece of art that stole- Donghyuck gasped softly once he took a look at the clock hung on the wall. Four hours?! How could that be possible, it only felt like... a second.

He turned to watch you instead of the overflowing tree, ornated in tinsel and lights. You glowed so much more than any view in this world in Donghyuck’s eyes. His Polaris indeed. No matter how lost he would ever be in life, tangled in his own mind, struggling against his own, one look at his brightest star and he’d find his way back to you through the darkest of nights. He deemed it only right for his guiding star to hang the star on top of your tree as if you hung it in a once starless night once he turned off the lights in the room.

Donghyuck thought that maybe he could live in an eternity in a single day with you.

“Ah, it snowed so much outside. It looks so fluffy, I have to!”

“What, no Y’N, wait!”

Before Donghyuck could even react, you sprung away from him, clumsily slipping on some shoes and running outside in only your sleepwear. Your boyfriend ran after you, gathering your jacket before joining you in the snow. He found you a few steps away from the entrance, crouched before a mound of fresh snow, digging your already reddening hands into it and spreading it around to form drawings and words. He sighed as he laid your jacket over your shoulders and crouched beside you.

“Don’t be so reckless, you’ll catch a cold like this.”

“Look who’s talking” you shot him a pointed look “where’s your own jacket if you’re so worried about colds?”

He spluttered for a moment, realising he forgot his own jacket in his rush to make sure you wouldn’t suffer too much because of the cold.

“I need no jacket. Jackets are for weaklings.”

You rolled your eyes, focusing back on the snow gathered in your hands.

“I feel bad for the snowflakes. They left their home, maybe they were even separated from their loved ones on the way down here. I bet they miss them. But they are trapped here once they landed. If only they would have the chance to fly for a little longer and search for them.”

You threw it in front of you, watching as it spread all around you, floating elegantly in a dance of their own before regaining their place on the spotless white dessert. Donghyuck watched you with curious eyes.

“I feel so bad for them I almost want to take them into my own home and care for them and love them-”

“But they’d melt.”

“Huh?”

“The snowflakes would melt. It’s not the right kind of home for them. Love isn’t always what they need, sometimes it consumes you little by little, it reduces you to nothing.”

“I’d rather melt into nothingness if it meant I felt even a second of pure love.”

‘That’s Y/N for you indeed’ Donghyuck could only shake his head as a small, content smile settled on his face. He scooped a little bit of snow into his cupped palms and brought it close to his lips. You shrieked.

“Don’t eat it! I get it, I won’t bring snow into the house!’“

He laughed so joyfully the shy moon cowered behind clouds at his beauty.

“I’m not planning on eating it, dumbass.”

“Then?”

“I’m wishing upon snowflakes?”

“Maybe we should head inside, maybe you have a fever.”

“Shut up, I’m not delusional. There are no dandelions during winter and snowflakes are our thing anyway, right? So let’s wish upon a snowflake instead of dandelions this time.”

He didn’t wait for you to react before he blew harshly into his palms, sending the small pile of snow flying out of his hands. Donghyuck could only think of a single thing while watching the swirl of the freed snow dancing in the dimly lit street in front of the house.

I wish for you to be my north star, to keep guiding me home to you.

~~~~

But sometimes it gets foggy. And sometimes you lose your way.

Donghyuck stared at his own reflection in the silver globe. He looked anything but Christmas-y. There was no twinkle in his eye, dull orbs gazing back at him almost condescendingly.

He’s always been a spitfire, a follower of his own fate that he made by his own hands. He swore to never let a flame touch, but promises are meant to be broken and his love, too burning hot, consumed you just like warmth consumed the snow. You slipped through his fingers just like snowflakes get separated in the harsh wind.

And Donghyuck was sure that if snowflakes could feel, they would be the most pitiful. A separation so sudden, so forceful, one that leaves you desperate to turn back time even for just a second. To watch them for longer. To hold on tighter.

‘Lee Donghyuck, you dumbass’

He sighs as he lowers the globe, putting it back into the box that would soon go into the basement where it resides for most of the year. One goodbye after another. Undecorating and storing away the once lively Christmas tree felt even more melancholic than usual, because while it meant a ‘see you later’ to the brightness of his house, he might have lost his chance at even saying a proper ‘please let me see you again’ to the brightness of his soul.

He looked up, catching sight of the lonely star sitting atop of the tree, the only decoration left. So far out of reach.

‘Feels so wrong to search for a stool for that after so long. Also feels wrong for me to be the one to take it off. I got too used to you.’

‘Too empty, where are your ridiculous decorations?’

‘Too blank, where are your rainbow vomit Christmas sweaters?’

‘ Too quiet, where are your late carols?’

‘...Where are you?’

Donghyuck had to shake himself out of his zoned out state, looking out the window at the lights still hung around his porch. He should remove those too. He stepped outside, being immediately enveloped by the winter winds blowing around the freshly laid out snow.

‘It snowed a lot this year. Where are your snow-angels?’

Donghyuck touched the scarf wrapped around his neck. The one he searched for for hours just to find it laid around the ‘neck’ of the snowman you both built earlier that day. Despite his scolding, he couldn’t help but think that who needs presents when his biggest blessing is smiling so purely right in front of him?

‘Are you building snowmen away from me now? Are you using someone else’s scarf now?’

His face contorted into a grimace. He grabbed two fistfuls of fresh snow, throwing them into the wind, watching them meddle amongst themselves

‘You talked all that shit about giving them a second chance to find their loved ones after a storm, to find their soulmates once again. So where are you?’

‘Why don’t you give me another chance to find you too?’

Donghyuck watched helplessly as the snow settled down once again. What if soulmates get lost forever? What if they don’t meet again? He crouched in the middle of the alley to his house. The same one you walked on and away from him.

A lonely snowflake landed on his hand, as if to prove Donghyuck a point. He couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, pain lacing his usually bright tone.

‘Are you feeling it too, buddy? Are you alone too?’

‘How about you, my love? Where are you, Y/N?’

Another snowflake slowly descended right by the one already settled on his hand. Destined together, by the hands of fate, by each other’s hand, by time itself.

‘Ah, found your soulmate, have you?’

‘Where has mine gone?’

A crunch resonated in Donghyuck’s ears, right in front of him. So close.

“Sorry for the wait.”

His head snapped up. Did heartbreak cause illusions? Did desperation cause hearings? No, while his brain took its time comprehending, his heart knew instantly. It recognized its owner.

“It got confused and a little scared on the way here, but it finally found its way back home.”

You were home. At home in his arms, nestled in his embrace, face buried in his chest, right above his erratic heartbeat.

“You know, late comers have to pay for the wasted time.”

“Oh, is that so? How much is it?”

“Just a lifetime spent together.”

Donghyuck’s eyes sparkled again.

~~~~

You still haven’t decided what takes the crown as the best replica of the fluffy clouds traveling lazily across the sky. You stick another piece of baby blue cotton candy in your own mouth while internally debating between the two choices. The floss of sweetness you had the luxury to eat at the moment or-

A whine interrupted you. Your head snapped to the side just to meet a pair of puppy eyes staring back at you, waiting for acknowledgement.

“Hyuckie too~”

“Maybe Hyuckie should have bought his own then.”

Despite your seemingly annoyed retort and the roll of your eyes, you still offered him a piece of cotton candy, one that he didn’t hesitate to snatch right from your hand the moment it was presented in front of his lips.

You stared adoringly at your boyfriend as he munched satisfied on the sweet and you could barely suppress the need to run your fingers through his soft locks, bury your hand into your own warm, lavender-smelling cloud.

“I’m getting flashbacks from our first meeting.”

You snapped out of your haze, redirecting your attention to Donghyuck’s words.

“Huh?”

“It’s the same bench. When you stole my cotton candy and then offered to share it with me oh so kindly-”

“I paid for it! And saved you too for the sake of it!”

“And then trapped me with you in order to repay you.”

You slapped his arm, watching fondly as he dissolved in a fit of giggles. You both knew he didn’t mean it, he spent countless hours thanking the world and you for bringing you two together and allowing him happiness. You sighed a bit melancholic, only just realising that he was right, this was the same bench you ate your first candy floss together. Same place, same people, same surroundings, different circumstances.

“It feels like an eternity ago.”

“And at the same times it feels like only yesterday.”

A beat of silence passed before Donghyuck spoke again, quieter, more careful, almost timidly.

“I’m scared too sometimes.”

You leaned into him, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He brought the hand that wasn’t holding your waist already up to your face, cupping your cheek delicately and caressing it with his thumb. His snowflake finally had a soulmate.

“Why?”

He bumped his nose against yours, leaning his forehead against yours. He had you, under his fingertips, breaths mingled, hearts beating together.

“What if it’s over before we realise?”

You hummed softly, your lips brushing against his as you murmured your next words, a secret shared between lovers

“Doesn’t matter. Time is nothing with you, an irrelevant notion meant to hurry us when all we want to do is linger a second more. For you and me, there’s no end and no beginning.”

And sure enough, here you were. Two snowflakes, vulnerable and in passing, sharing a cloud and a timeless bond.

133 notes · View notes

i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Love (Part 7) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day Weekend my loves! I’m finally getting back into this story. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish it up soon, but no promises. lol but I hope you enjoy. I wanted to get this out because this year the dates actually line up lol so here we are.

Summary: You and Steve host his mom and Bucky for dinner.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots

Word Count: 1968

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic)

You were unable to tear your eyes away from Steve as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper, though you rolled your eyes when he laughed at you. It wasn’t until you heard him singing Sexyback that you huffed and turned back to the dresses.

You stared at your remaining options. You couldn’t help but smile when you came to a decision. If you were right, you knew exactly why it was his favorite. After you packed away the rest of the dresses you flopped down on the bed scrolling through your notifications.

“Did you make a decision?” Steve asked as he exited the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and white tank top but barefoot.

You gestured to the closet where the blue wrap dress hung next to his shirt.

Steve looked at it and grinned.

“My favorite.” Steve laid on his side next to you, propping his head in his hand. “We really should go back to California soon.”

You rolled on your side to mimic his position.

“I’d love that. Ooh maybe in the winter though because it’ll be nice and warm,” you giggled.

“That’s a great idea.”

You dropped your gaze from his and started tracing the pattern of his bedspread.

“What’s going through your head, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his own.

“Just going over what’s left to do for tonight.”

“Everything is all set. There’s nothing left for you to do except to get ready.”

“How long do I have?”

Steve glanced at his phone.

“About an hour.”

“Okay, that’s probably enough time to make myself presentable,” you fretted.

He cupped your cheek, focusing your attention on him.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. You are always beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s my professional opinion. Are you doubting someone who almost has a bachelor’s in fine arts?” he demanded haughtily.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he beamed.

“That I do.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower. Take your time and relax. I even bought the candle you like.”

“Summer storm?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the best.”

You kissed him on the cheek as you climbed over him to go shower.

The shower helped calm your nerves and when the water ran cold you wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel Steve had bought just for you and padded back into the bedroom.

You kept the music on low as you got ready, fixing your hair and doing some light make up. When you were satisfied with your appearance you tugged on the dress and slid your feet into the low heels. The final touch was the silver necklace of a dancer that Steve had bought you for your first showcase.

“So how do I look?” you asked as you stood beside the TV.

“Beautiful.”

He patted the spot beside him on the couch and you happily joined him. He immediately twined his fingers through yours.

“I’m really glad that you’re here with me tonight. I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He brought your hands up so he could kiss your knuckles you couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. Your shower and primping had taken less time than you expected so you and Steve passed the time watching the Good Place.

You were tucked neatly into Steve’s side as you waited for his mom and Bucky to arrive. As his nerves mounted yours seemed to recede and you rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Relax, Steve. It’s your mom and Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about. The three people I love the most are all going to be in the same place.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about me meeting your mom.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me. The three people who have the most dirt on me in the same room. Yikes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I live to lift you up. But I hope she brought baby pictures.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

He pulled you closer and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good because I do. Mmm. You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” you giggled. “I forgot my shower gel.”

“Yeah but it’s your shampoo. It’s the perfect combination.”

You were interrupted by keys jangling and the door swinging open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Smudge. Hey, Stevie.”

Neither of you moved from the couch as he hung his jacket up and walked into the kitchen.

“God it smells great in here.”

“Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare eat anything to spoil your appetite.”

“But I’m starving,” he whined.

“We’re having appetizers as soon as Steve’s mom gets here. Just wait.”

Bucky pouted into his beer as he sank into the opposite end of the couch.

“I promise it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is, doll”

“You’re too sweet, Buck. What did you do today?”

“I spent most of it at the hospital. A spot on their Saturday shift opened up so I took it.”

“Aw that’s great. You didn’t think you’d be able to this semester.”

“I know. I’m really glad. There’s this really sweet girl who just is amazing.”

You and Steve shared a smile at the excitement and fondness in his voice.

The three of you chatted, until your nerves got the best of you and you moved into the kitchen to triple check everything for dinner. The boys trailed behind you, but stayed out of your way.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it buzzed and you tracked Steve as he went to greet his mom. Bucky used your distraction to swipe a grape earning him a rap on the knuckles with a cheese knife.

“Hands off, Buck.”

“Aw come on, doll.”

“No more.”

Bucky pouted but kept his hands to himself as you retrieved the glasses from the cabinet.

Steve was laughing when he opened the door with the one and only Sarah Rogers trailing behind him. She smiled brightly when she spotted you and Bucky. You quickly wiped your hands on the dish towel and hurried to greet her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you, darling. Please call me, Sarah.”

Once Steve took her coat she leaned forward to kiss you on each cheek.

“Hello, James.”

“Hey, Aunt Sarah,” he grinned around a mouthful of cheese.

“Buck!”

“Sorry, Smudge!”

Rolling your eyes you headed back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ma?”

“I’ll just have some water.”

“Regular water or seltzer water.”

“Regular please, dear.”

“Sweetheart do you want anything.”

“Water please.”

You retrieved the charcuterie board fiddling slightly trying to disguise the gap Bucky’s munchies had left. He had the good grace to look apologetic when you glared in his direction.

Sarah had made herself comfortable in the arm chair and Bucky took the chair and a half across from her leaving you to sit beside Steve on the couch. He patted your knee before taking your hand as he had earlier.

“How was your Saturday? Did you work today?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m off this weekend. I went grocery shopping. Needed to stock up on a few items. It was a mad house though.”

“Really? It was quiet when we were there,” Steve hummed.

“We were there at like 6:30,” you pointed out.

“True. And it was getting crowded when we were finishing up.”

“I wonder why.”

Bucky and Sarah gaped at the two of you.

“You two really do live under a rock in that arts building don’t you?”

Sarah laughed at Bucky’s observation.

“Why? What are we missing?”

“There’s a blizzard coming tomorrow. Everyone was stocking up before the storm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh. It’s been on every news station for a week. What have you been doing?”

“Avoiding my phone at all costs,” you admitted.

Steve shrugged his agreement. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, I hope you got more than just food for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re all set,” Steve assured his mom. “We’ll just hunker down here for the next few days.”

“Absolutely. It’s not like we were planning to leave for the next couple of days anyways,” you agreed.

“Oh did you two have plans for the holiday?”

You squirmed under Sarah’s amused but expectant gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“Tomorrow is our annual Lord of the Rings Marathon. We do it every year,” Steve explained with a grin.

“How did that come about?”

“During Freshman year, I got really sick right around Valentine’s Day. And my roommate, and pretty much everyone else I knew had gone on this ski trip that whole week. Steve was worried about me so he brought me pancakes from the dining hall and chicken noodle soup and stayed with me the whole weekend. We watched a ton of movies, but somehow Lord of the Rings became a tradition.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah it is.”

You squeezed as his hand as he looked over at you with that soft smile you loved so much.

Steve patted his stomach and hummed as he sat back in his chair, nudging your knee with his. Bucky was wiping his bowl with the last of the rolls, and Sarah demurely wiped at her mouth.

“Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’ve got to say, Y/n, I’m impressed you’ve taught my son to cook.”

“I wouldn’t say I taught him. We more figured it out together. Poor Bucky had to taste test a lot of nearly inedible things.”

“Except her baking. That’s always been amazing,” Bucky piped up as he shoved the last roll into his mouth.

“Speaking of, I should get the pie in the oven to warm up or we won’t have dessert until midnight,” you fretted.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart. Just relax.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t mind cleaning up.”

You glance at Steve who nods encouragingly before hopping to his feet, squeezing your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head as he passed by. Bucky finished chewing and began to clear the dishes.

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” she suggested.

You nodded and grabbed your glass and followed her, sitting next to the older woman.

“I’m so glad that we’re finally getting to spend some time together. Steve never stops talking about you. You’re clearly very special to him.”

You couldn’t help but look over at him, smiling as he elbowed Bucky out of the way at the sink.

“He’s very special to me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can get lost in his work.”

“He does the same for me.”

“I also have to say, you’re a beautiful dancer. I’m looking forward to your performance at the Showcase. It’s always been a highlight in the past.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I also saw that you and Steve were celebrating a new job last night?”

“Yes, I just joined the Howling Commando Stage Troupe as a dancer and assistant choreographer.”

“Oh that’s so exciting. Congratulations. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes, absolutely. They’ll send me the info for the summer series in a few weeks.”

“And how does one manage being a dancer and a choreographer at the same time.”

“The Howlies always mount two shows simultaneously, so I’ll be dancing in one show while I help choreograph the other.”

“Ah, I see. Well that is quite the undertaking, but I’m sure it will all be beautiful. You’ll have to let me know when opening night is. I would love to come and see you.”

Her earnest support caught you off guard.

“Of course,” you finally managed. “Thank you.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed !

Tag Lists (If your tag doesn’t work twice I’m removing it)

Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay

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