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matbaerzal · 3 years

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Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #op:w #nhl fic

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miyagihawk · 3 years

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it's not an ask, but i don't know if i can send it on your chat, so... i saw your post about a song and a character from cobra kai and automatically thought of sk8r boi (avril lavigne) and robby 😩😩😩 have a nice day and don't forget to drink water 💞

THANK U FOR THE REQUEST i love this song sm

sk8r boi | robby keene x reader

warnings: swearing, some catcalling

summary: he was a skater boy! she said see you later boy! he wasn’t good enough for her! (hehe)

“Come on Riley, Mom wants us home by 6 and we still have to get stuff from the store,” you crossed your arms, annoyed at your brother. He ignored you, dipping down, wheels first, into the concrete bowl.

You shifted on your feet, feeling uncomfortable standing at the skate park with your ballet attire still on. You’ve just come back from rehearsal, and you had to pick up Riley because Mom was working a late shift.

“Shit Riley, I didn’t know your sister was hot. Qué pasa ballerina?” one of his friends winked at you, making you roll your eyes in disgust.

“Hey, do a little twirl for us princess,” another boy whistled and you glared at the group.

Pigs. Boys are pigs.

“Riley, let’s go,” you said firmly, turning away and heading to your car, leaving him with no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to walk home.

Your brother’s friend group of skaters hollered and whooped as Riley caught up to you, and you had to focus on your breathing to calm your anger. You hate being made fun of, but you reminded yourself that they were just a bunch of stupid, hormonal, punks.

“Your friends are assholes,” you commented, and your brother only nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” a voice called from behind you, but you kept walking, assuming that it was just another guy trying to poke fun at you.

“Hey, wait,” the person said again, this time grabbing your arm to stop you.

You turned around quickly, pulling away from their grip. “What?” you snapped, meeting a pair of calm green eyes.

It was one of Riley’s friends, the one with long hair. You don’t remember him saying anything to you earlier; he seemed to be quiet.

“I just wanted to say sorry. About them. They don’t know how to talk to girls, I promise they’re not that bad,” he said, holding his skateboard at his side. His genuineness surprised you.

“So you do?”

He gave you a confused look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Know how to talk to girls,” you clarified and he chuckled.

“I know a thing or two. I’m Robby,” the boy stuck out his hand for you to take.

“Wow you’re good,” you joked. “I’m Y/N,” you took his rough hand in your soft one.

After that day at the skatepark, you couldn’t stop thinking about Robby.

You don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was his glittery eyes. Or his pretty hair. Or the way he smiled with his whole face. Or maybe it was how he talked in a way that told you he was smarter than most people.

Maybe it was all of those things that made you daydream like a schoolgirl with a crush. And all you wanted to do was see him again.

“Jenny doesn’t even deserve the variation, I mean we all saw what happened last time. She almost fell off stage! Anyone but her should have it,” your friend Abby ranted, sipping on her milkshake.

It was after rehearsal and your friend group decided to go to a diner to get food.

“It’s clearly favoritism. She could do the whole routine wrong and Ms. Adams would still choose her. I think Jenny’s parents are definitely bribing her,” your other friend Vanessa added to the gossip.

The whole time, you were half listening to the conversation and half thinking about a certain skater boy. You couldn’t even control it; your thoughts always somehow drifted to him.

“Oh my god. Skaters,” Abby whispered, making you snap out of your daydream. You looked up to see a pack of boys coming into the restaurant, holding their boards at their hips.

Among them was your little brother and your heart raced as you recognized all of them.

It was like your overflow of thoughts about him had somehow materialized right in front of you. Robby.

Your hands started to sweat and you contemplated if you should hide or say hello, or just act like you didn’t see him.

You decided to go for the latter, and you slumped down in your seat to make yourself less noticeable.

“God, look at them. Skater boys are the scum of the earth,” Abby uttered, making a face of distaste.

“I would never date one. Even that’s below me,” Vanessa scoffed in reply.

You felt your cheeks heat up at their remarks, now feeling ashamed for your growing feelings for the very thing they were so disgusted at.

“Same,” you replied, despite feeling conflict in your heart. You looked over Vanessa’s shoulder to see him laughing with his group, and his happiness made your heart warm.

Before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You cursed internally at your ruined plans of trying to ignore him, but the damage was done. You shot him a small smile and a nod before returning your gaze back to your friends.

It took everything in you to not look at him again, especially with the feeling of his stare on you.

“Holy shit. One of them’s coming over,” Abby said in a hushed tone, your stomach dropping at her words.

You looked up to see Robby heading over to your table as you panicked on the inside.

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he approached, and you looked back at his table to see his friends watching.

“Robby! Hi!” you greeted nervously. “Uh, these are my friends. Abby and Vanessa. Girls, this is Robby,” you introduced them.

“Nice to meet you,” he nodded at them, and they waved. Their smiles were definitely fake, and you could tell how hard they were judging the boy in front of you.

“So, um, do you guys come here a lot?” you tried to make conversation, but the air was too awkward to be saved.

“Not really, our usual place was closed so we came here,” Robby explained, glaring at his friends who were starting to boisterously taunt. “I should go. Sorry about them. Again. Just wanted to say hey.”

“All good,” you laughed. “See you.”

As he walked back to his table your friends turned to you, mouths agape.

“You know him?! What was that?” Abby inquired, giving you a look of disbelief.

“He’s... he’s just my brother’s friend,” you shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Just your brother’s friend. He totally had heart eyes for you Y/N!” Vanessa nudged your side, making you shake your head in denial.

You rolled your eyes, but what she said gave you butterflies. “No way, I’ve only met him once.”

“Whatever, just don’t fall into the trap. You’re too good for a skater. They’re scum, remember?” Abby said, as she chewed obnoxiously on a fry. You found yourself suddenly annoyed at her.

“Yeah, of course. I would never,” you contradicted your feelings.

They were probably right. You don’t even know Robby, and you were from completely different worlds.

You told yourself that you would push away your growing feelings for Robby. But you couldn’t help but be excited when you have to pick up Riley from the skatepark. You couldn’t help asking your brother maybe too many questions about him, and you couldn’t help looking out for him every time you would go to the diner with your girls.

He would always talk to you, making you giddy for the rest of the day. You found yourself wanting to see him more and more.

“So how long have you been skating?” you asked the boy beside you.

You were waiting for Riley to finish so you could go home, but you let him take his time.

“I started when I was 11, but it’s been on and off,” Robby replied. “Have you ever skated?”

You laughed at the thought of yourself on a board. “Never. It looks cool though,” you watched as your brother skated off some stairs.

“I think you’d be good at it. I mean ballet and skating are pretty much the same thing,” he grinned at you, making you blush and look away from him.

“Ballet and skating couldn’t be more different,” you disagreed.

Robby shrugged. “Wrong. Both are centered around balance. Skating, if you think about it, is choreography. Sure we’re not as graceful, but it’s not as different as you think.”

You smiled to yourself at his wiseness. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment of silence between you two as you both sat at the edge of the bowl.

“So when are we starting?” he spoke, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“Starting what?”

“I’m teaching you how to skate,” he answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t giving you a choice.

“What? I-I can’t skate,” you stammered. The thought of you embarrassing yourself in front of him made you want to puke.

“Which is why I’m teaching you. Come on, I promise I won’t let you hurt your pretty little ballerina face,” Robby smiled.

Your head suddenly felt dizzy at his small remark. Pretty. “I don’t know Robby...”

“Tomorrow. At 5. I’ll even take you to that diner you like after. It’s a date,” he said surely, making your cheeks warm up again.

A date? Your heart fluttered at the thought of him wanting to hang out with you. Alone. On a freaking date.

“Okay, fine,” you bit your lip, trying to hold back a huge smile. “But only because of the promise of food.”

“I hate you,” Robby huffed as he watched you effortlessly roll past him on his skateboard.

“I can’t believe you compared this to ballet, this is so easy,” you jeered, laughing at his defeated look.

“Oh calm down Ms. Black Swan, you haven’t learned any tricks yet,” he stood up, walking over to you. “I’m going to teach you an ollie.”

He grabbed the board and stood on it, leaning down on the edge with one foot so that the board was wheels up on the other side. “Just do that.”

Robby handed you the skateboard, and you copied everything he did. Except you lost your balance and the wheels slipped from underneath you. You grabbed onto his shoulders as a reflex.

Your breath hitched as Robby’s placed his hands on your hips to steady you, and your faces were inches away. He was so close that you could feel his breath and see the pattern of his eyes.

“Not so easy, is it now?” he said softly, still holding onto you. The air was now filled with a thick tension and you felt woozy from being so close to him.

“I... I guess not,” you fumbled over your words, feeling incredibly nervous looking into his eyes.

None of you were pulling away, and you weren’t sure if you should be the first to do so.

“Can I kiss you?” Robby whispered, making you breathless. You were sure that he could hear your heartbeat, because it felt like it was consuming you.

You only nodded, feeling speechless, and he leaned in to press your lips together.

It was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And you dreamed about it a lot.

“You’re so much different from your friends. How come?” You chewed on a fry, questioning the boy sitting in the diner booth in front of you.

Robby tapped his lip in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I just balance out the group. You’re different from your friends too. I mean I’ve only met them once, but I don’t think they like me,” he replied, and you cringed at the memory of your friends being so judgmental.

“That makes sense. And sorry about them. They can be... mean,” you apologized on their behalf, almost in the same way that Robby would for his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Robby looked behind you, making your eyes widen. You turned around and there they were. Abby and Vanessa. You didn’t even care that they were hanging out with you; you were worried that they would see you with Robby.

You slumped down in your seat like you did when you were trying to hide from Robby before. “We should go now, right? It’s getting pretty late.”

Robby gave you a weird look, “Um... sure.”

“Y/N?” a dreaded voice called your name before you could make your escape.

You faced your two best friends. “Hey guys,” you said sheepishly as they walked up to your table.

“What are you doing with him? Oh my god, are you two on a date?” Abby gasped.

Vanessa joined in, “You said you’d never date someone like him. Oh come on Y/N, you know he’s not good enough for you. What happened to boys like him are below us?”

Robby’s face flashed with pain, but you were so selfish that you didn’t even notice.

“No- I- We’re just friends, I swear it’s not a date. I would never-” you stuttered, trying to save yourself, and you didn’t even think of Robby’s feelings at all. In the moment you only cared about your reputation and what your friends thought of you.

The boy you liked so much got up from the booth, throwing a wad of cash on the table. You felt your heart break as he walked away without a word and clenched fists.

You got up to follow him, but your friends pulled you back. “Just let him go Y/N. He’ll just break your heart,” Abby said coldly.

You ripped your arm away from their grip, running through the diner to catch up to Robby.

“Robby! Please, stop, I’m sorry,” you called after him, trying to keep up with how fast he was walking.

He ignored you the first time, increasing his pace.

“Please, Robby, can we just talk about it? I’m stupid, okay? Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he finally stopped in his tracks.

You’ve never seen his face like that, a mixture of anger and pain. The fact that it was directed towards you made you want to just melt away.

“You want to talk? Am I even good enough to talk to you? I’m sorry, should I be on my knees right now your majesty?” he said angrily, and you felt like crying.

You shook your head, “No, no Robby I swear I don’t think of you that way. I said things that I don’t mean and I’m so sorry. I- I just... my friends were saying all this shit about-”

“Just- just stop. You’re saying different things to different people, and I’m just supposed to trust you? And what, was I just going to be a secret? Look, I have to go,” he turned around to keep walking but you took his hand.

“I was going to tell them Robby, I like you so much and please, I’ll fix it. I’ll talk to them and-”

He cut your frantic rambling off again, “Y/N... I like you too alright? And I get it. I get wanting to fit in with your friends, even if you don’t agree with them. I learned from it myself. I just need time to think about all of it.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

You nodded in understanding, but your heart was hurting. “I’m sorry,” you said one last time before he took off on his skateboard.

a/n: why was that sm longer than i planned... also sorry for any mistakes im too lazy to edit. there probably won’t be a part 2 because the song doesn’t have a happy ending lol hope u enjoyed!!!!

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #cobrakai #robbykeene #Robby cobra kai #Robby Keene x reader #Robby Keene imagine #Robby Keene

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siimjaeyun · 3 years

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VOLUME TWO: ICE ICE BABY

synopsis: all you've ever wanted was to be good enough for jake sim, the captain of the soccer team, and the boy any girl would kill to be with. the issue? you know he's only with you to get back at his ex and have an eye candy around his arm. but when his friend sunghoon is back at school, maybe he'll teach you that you're more than just a pretty trophy.

masterlist

You manage to release another sigh as you make your way inside your home.

Jake had bailed on you for the third time this week, doing so at least two to four times for the past three months and you were tired of it. Half of the time it was because of practice and the others were due to excuses you're pretty sure he pulled out of his ass.

You wanted to text the group chat but figured you didn't want to add to the hatred your three best friends already had towards said male boy.

You didn't have any work to do, so for a change in sceneries you head to the local ice rink, the only possible place you think of as your second home.

Once entering, the scent of ice and water touch on the memories of your last summer. Yet you don't pay attention to the bittersweet feelings when the ice rink owner approaches you.

"Y/n! How have you been, it's been quite a while since I last saw you." She takes a good luck at you, admiring your smile in particular.

"I've been well, just busy with school and some other stuff."

"Well you know you're always welcome here and if you ever want your job back just say the word? You should head inside, there's only one other student in there." You nod your head and bid farewell while picking up a pair of ice skates and heading inside.

Too engrossed in the feeling of the ice under you as you open the gate to skate, you don't catch the boy staring at you.

"My, my do we meet again?" You glance up and find none other than Sunghoon with a smirk on his face.

"Hello to you too Sunghoon." You contemplate whether it be best to run off and come back later, but it's not like you could handle another disappointment.

"Jake never told me his girlfriend skates." You skate past him and keep going before choosing to answer.

"Yeah well I doubt he's talked about me at all. But if you don't mind I'd like to be alone." You try to get past him again but he blocks your view.

"I'm just trying to talk to you? I wanna get to know Jake's pink princess better." His ending comment was your last straw and you shove him, making him lose balance while you exit the rink. You miss his yells to come back and instead go into one of the waiting areas, throwing off your ice skates in frustration.

"Hey hey, I didn't mean to say anything bad "

"Fuck off Park Sunghoon." You say sternly, picking up your skates and trying your best not to cry in front of him.

"Hey, y/n look at me. I'm sorry." Sunghoon abruptly takes a hold of your shoulders and gets you to look at him in the eyes, noticing the guilt painted on his face.

"I know you didn't mean anything, I'm just tired and I hate hearing that name."

"Pink princess?" He questions.

"Exactly. I just want to be here in peace and do me another favor, please don't tell anyone you saw me here. No one can know okay?" Confused, he agrees but still can't help but feel bad for the tension from earlier.

"But on one condition." Sunghoon leaves the room and you choose to follow him up a flight stairs, considering that there's a possibility he could murder you then and there.

"That condition is for you to keep this a secret." He holds a key out and opens the door which leads to the area right above the skating rink for you to see on both sides.

"I thought the keys to this place were lost." You ask, amazed by the way all the skaters appear from your sight of view.

"They were, I figured if I knew a secret than you should too." He goes to the cabinet, and pulls out a sheet and some pillows for the both of you to sit.

"So, if we're on a secret basis, then tell me about yourself." You were surprised by his question to say the least, since most people could care less about any of your actual thoughts.

"Well what do you want to know? Aside from my utter hatred for the nickname?"

"Why don't you want to tell people you know how to skate? As an ice skater it's kind of offensive." He fakes being a pain letting you release a small laugh.

"I just think of this as my safe place. When all eyes are on you, there's not much you can do that isn't for yourself like ice skating and song writing."

"You write songs?" A small blush forms on your cheeks as you realize the accidental mention.

"Yeah, but they're not good. It's just my little world I guess, what about you?"

You turn the conversation towards him and find yourself rather entertained. There's a few serious moments, and others where Sunghoon is close to beating you up for teasing him showing a bit of his fangs in the process.

"Okay okay final question, why do you hate the color pink so much? And why do you let Jake talk you into it." You sigh looking at him with your pinky out.

"Pinky promise this stays between us? The only other people that know are my friends Giselle, Sunoo and Jungwon okay?" He agrees, and let's you continue.

"Well, when I was younger and my biological parents were still together, I caught my dad cheating on my mom with another woman in their bedroom. Later, my dad divorced my mom, got remarried and abandoned us to make a new family...the color the woman always wore was pink. Her lingerie was pink that day I caught them, when they got divorced I met her in the lobby in a pink dress and their wedding dress was also pink. Pink is to me a color of false promises, it's a symbol that love doesn't exist," you say honestly before answering his second question, "I wear pink because Jake said it's my best color or it's what he repeated often. I'm so pressured to be good enough that I make myself wear pink thinking it'll prove something. And that is pretty much everything there is to know."

"Thank you for trusting me y/n. And rest assured that everything is safe with me." He holds your hand and you became startled when his phone rings.

"My mom is calling me to come home. It's almost ten o clock." Your eyes widen as you confirm the hour, exiting the room instantly with Sunghoon.

"Hey sunghoon, thanks for listening." Sunghoon just smiles and hands you a sticky note.

"My number. I'm here anytime. We might only know each other for a day, but I can tell there's a lot more to you than meets the eye." He walks away and you head home, inputting his number almost instantly.

Maybe Park Sunghoon wasn't that bad.

------

taglist: @abdiitcryy @nyfwyeonjun @pinkhyunie @hobistigma

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung #jungwon #sunghoon #jay #enhypen riki #jake imagines

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

the evolution of breaking up

Peter x Stark!reader

Summary: Snippets of you moving on from a bad breakup, frequently turning to your best friend, Peter.

Warnings: it's sad Taylor Swift hours, some choice words,

Word Count: 3252

a/n: inspired by a playlist called the evolution of breaking up that only has TS songs on it lol. Bold is direct or paraphrased lyrics

Masterlist

Peter is 90% sure he fell in love with you the day he met you.

He's 100% sure he fell in love with you within a week of knowing you.

Hell, he's so sure about it, he would tell you if not for one glaringly obvious problem: Jared.

Your boyfriend.

Your started dating Jared a few weeks before you met Peter. That is to say, a few weeks before Tony recruited Peter to join the Avengers.

Peter didn't have any problems with Jared, and he would never wish for you to get your heart broken, but he was definitely jealous.

It wasn't hard for him to love you. The two of you became fast friends. You always worked in the lab together, improving upon tech Tony already had or developing all new creations.

You also patrolled together. Peter had always enjoyed patrolling, but now that you went with him, time seemed to fly.

It was currently about 10:30 on a Friday about two and a half years after you and Peter met. You and Peter were supposed to patrol, but Tony said to take the night off for once.

You took the impromptu free time as the perfect opportunity to surprise Jared.

You left the tower around 5:30 and Peter hasn't heard from you since. Not that he expected to since you were going on a date. He was bored though.

Tony refused to let him tinker around in the lab, saying he needed a better work/life balance. He would've found the statement funny if it didn't feel so true.

He tried calling Ned, but he was out with Betty. MJ was busy with Brad, the two going to some horror movie marathon.

The only other person he really hung out with was you, and you were also on a date.

He wondered the various floors of the tower, looking for anything to do that would take his mind of you.

Eventually, he just set up camp in the shared living area, putting Star Wars on the massive TV and eating more popcorn than should be legal.

He was nearly asleep during Episode V when the ding of the elevator jolted him awake. Someone ran through the halls, quickly opening and closing the door to their room.

He sat up, intrigued by the behavior. As he walked down the hallway, he listened for any indication of someone else being there. Obviously whoever it was didn't want to talk, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned.

He stopped outside your door, bringing his hand up to knock when he heard music softly playing through the door.

You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?

He froze with his fist raised, uneasy with the why you would put on such a sad song. His hand fell back to his side when he heard you sing along to the chorus.

"Never thought we'd have a last kiss. Never imagined we'd end like this."

The sound of you crying grew louder than the music, urging Peter to knock. He just wanted to make sure you knew he was there for you.

Hyping himself up, he knocked lightly. A few seconds later the music stopped. He listened as you shuffled toward the door, slowly pulling it open.

His heart broke at the sight of your puffy cheeks, red and tear stained.

"Hey Pete." You managed a small smile, happy to see your friend despite the less than stellar evening you had.

"Hey, I... you probably don't want to talk about it right now, but I'm here for when you do." He matched your small smile, trying not to make you feel any worse.

Apparently, he said the right thing because you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, burying your head in his chest as you cried.

He spent the next half hour rubbing your back as you cried, having moved to sit on the bed rather than stand in the doorway.

When your tears ended, he risked talking to you again.

"Did you want to talk about it tonight?" Peter was clearly unsure of himself in this situation.

You shook your head, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

"No, I... He just..." Tears pooled again, but you blinked them away. "He said forever and always, but I guess he didn't mean it."

Peter held you as you cried again, eventually falling asleep. He tucked you into your bed, placing a water bottle on your nightstand and shutting off the lights as he left.

The next few days, you spent mostly holed up in your room. You had a playlist of sad Taylor Swift songs on repeat, letting yourself wallow.

Peter was worried. Tony was worried. Nat, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Pepper, and Vision were worried.

"What'd she say when you talked to her?" The group questioned, all wanting nothing more than to cheer you up.

Peter sighed, wishing he had more information. "She just cried for like, 2 hours. Somewhere in the middle I asked if she wanted to talk, she said something about him not really meaning forever, and then she cried again."

They were all contemplating what to do when you walked in the room. Every pair of eyes were on you in an instant.

You sighed heavily, kind of glad you could address everyone at once. They've been like a family to you since you were born, so it only makes sense they would all be worried.

"Jared and I broke up." You felt like it was 2 and a half years wasted. You could feel the tightness in your throat threatening more tears, but you refused to cry over this boy any longer. "I'll be okay, I just... I remember it all too well right now."

You turned to your dad, eyes welling up again. "I'm sorry I ignored when you said to run as fast as I can from all the boys I ever met." You chuckled, trying to relieve the tension.

Tony pulled you into a tight hug. "You'll be okay again, princess." You nodded, leaning into the hug. Everyone ended up piling on, offering you words of comfort through the group hug.

A couple weeks later, and you honestly felt better. Not all the way, but enough to want to go out with friends again. You went roller skating with Peter, MJ, and Ned.

It was the next logical step, going out with friends. It made sense. It was working.

Until you saw him. Jared was there with some other girl, skating without a care in the world. Of course, he saw you. He had the audacity to smile and wave, as if he didn't just break your heart.

When he walked up to you, you knew you had enough.

"Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been. Don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again." You spit the words at him, trying to hide how much it hurt. You turned away from him, nearly running from the rink before you even put the skates on.

You friends followed you out, profusely denying the need for your abundant apologies.

Ned and MJ hugged you before leaving, figuring less people would be better for you. Peter took you back to the tower, trying to help soothe the lingering ache.

"I just don't understand." You whispered from the passenger side of the car. "Why would he want to break a perfectly good heart?"

Peter struggled to come up with an answer, knowing nothing he said would really fix it.

"You'll find someone else. Someone who won't break your heart." He settled on a vague nod toward the future, knowing anything else could lead to him potentially ruining your friendship.

Unbeknownst to Peter, his words broke your heart just a little more. You always had a soft spot for Peter, and the few weeks you've been broken up from Jared have made you see him in a new light.

Of course, you wouldn't make a move though. Not yet. You didn't want him to think he was just a rebound. He's your best friend. It's too important to mess up with feelings.

You woke up the next morning with a slew of messages from Jared.

This is me swallowing my pride... telling you I'm sorry for that night.

I go back to December all the time.

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you.

I'm wishing I realized what I had when you were mine.

You deleted them immediately, not wanting to fall back into his trap. Ultimately though, you decided to respond. You wanted to lay it all out that he missed his chance. You were over him, even if it still hurt.

I've lived, and I've learned. Had you, got burned. I'm over it, Jared. Leave me alone.

Then you deleted his contact and blocked the number. He couldn't just say those hurtful things to you and then pretend like it was a mistake. He meant every word he said that night, even if he doesn't believe it now.

Another week went by without incident. You were all smiles all the time, really moving on from him and the pain he put you through.

Then you got a letter. It looked like a card, so you figured it was an early Valentine's card.

Opening it up proved it to be just that.

The inside read:

"I don't wanna miss you like this. I don't wanna need you this way. Come back. Be here."

Signed from Jared with hearts.

Of course you chose to open the card as soon as you got it, with everyone watching.

Your expression fell as the words sank in, knowing he was still trying did weird things to your heart. It made you question everything. Did he really care about you? Was he just bored?

You stared at the card for what felt like an eternity before ripping it up and rolling your eyes.

Of course he doesn't care. Nobody who says to your face that they never loved you cares.

"What was that?" Wanda asked, curious about the mixture of emotions present on your face.

"A load of utter horse shit." You huffed a laugh as you threw away the pieces.

"Language!" Tony called, always taking the opportunity to tease Steve.

"Well it was!" You defended, eager to move on from the conversation. They all stared at you expectantly, clearly waiting for an explanation. "It was from Jared." You were glad Peter was sitting next to you. Just the mention of his name had him rubbing your back, trying to make it easier for you.

"You know, now that I'm sitting here thinking it through. I've never been anywhere cold as him."

You felt another group hug coming on, so you quickly excused yourself to shower, reassuring everyone that you were fine.

You were laying on the floor, feet up against the wall, just staring at the ceiling when Bucky and Peter walked into the gym to train with you.

"Hey, Y/N." Bucky called, a questioning look in his eyes.

"What's going on in your head?" Peter added, spelling out the question for you.

"I knew he was trouble when I met him." You answered him honestly. "And yet, I still said yes when he asked me out." You shook your head, still staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, hindsight is 20/20. Don't beat yourself up about it." Bucky chimed in, knowing how it feels to blame yourself for things that weren't your fault.

"Are you offering then?" You stood up, accepting Peter's hand to aid you. You brushed any lingering dirt from your clothes, laughing at Bucky's confused expression. "For me to beat you up instead?"

The three of you had a good laugh before you got to work training.

Three months post breakup and you're feeling great. At least, you're feeling great most of the time.

"Hey Y/N! What are you doing tonight?" Peter questioned as he walked up beside you in the lab, pulling out the tools he'll need.

"I don't know, nothing specific I guess." You try to remember any plans you had, but nothing comes to mind.

"Perfect. MJ, Ned, and I are going to go roller skating again. I thought maybe you'd wanna come?" He's clearly nervous, unsure if this would help or hinder your progress.

You nod your head, thinking it over. "You know what, I'm in." The determination in your voice catches Peter off guard.

"Cool, um, great. I guess you're doing better then?" He's still nervous, but eager to finally get you to fully open up to someone about everything.

"Yep. Anytime I get sad, I think of something shitty he did to remind me I'm better off." You smile, knowing he was going to ask for examples.

"Really? Like what?" You can't help but laugh lightly, enjoying how well you know Peter.

"Some vague things, like how he would look at me when he was annoyed. Like those eyes add insult to injury, you know?" He nods, but doesn't really understand.

"Or more specific examples, like that birthday party where you all kept asking me about him, and I made excuses, but truth is he just blew me off. That one honestly should've been the moment I knew."

"He did what?" Peter was livid, but trying to contain the rage to that of a concerned friend rather than jealous crush.

"Eh, I'm over it. It's pretty easy to focus on the bad aspects of the relationship when it ended so badly." You shrug, turning back to the circuit board you were working on.

"How, um, how exactly did it end?" He wondered aloud, knowing you hadn't fully told anyone yet. He watched as you tensed slightly before shaking it off.

"That's a story for another time Pete." You managed a tight smile, not wanting to delve into that conversation just yet.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You mumbled under your breath.

You had been skating with Peter, Ned, and MJ for about an hour when he walked in.

Peter followed your line of sight, trying to understand your mumbling. When his eyes caught sight of Jared, he panicked.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry! I really thought this would help you this time." He rubbed his hands down his face, silently cursing himself for putting you in this position again.

"Don't worry about it Pete. I'm more prepared to handle it this time around." You laughed, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jared approached you.

"Y/N... I, uh, I've been trying to talk to you." He started boldy, not really caring that you weren't even looking at him.

You did your best to ignore him, but he grabbed your arm to stop you from skating away.

"Y/N, come on-"

"No." You spit at him, not letting him get under your skin. "People like you always want back the love they pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye."

You yanked your arm out of his hand, turning back to your friends. "Let's keep skating. I have no reason to run away."

Peter watched, bewildered as you confidently skated across the rink.

The morning of what would be your three year anniversary with Jared felt weird. You weren't upset anymore, but the lingering nostalgia of celebrating an anniversary clung to you.

You deleted the email reminding you of the plans you were supposed to have that evening.

You sighed heavily as you walked into the kitchen, still trying to clear your head.

"You good?" Peter questioned, easily spotting that something was off.

"Yeah, it's just... I don't miss him. At all. I'm over it, but today would've been our anniversary..."

Peter nodded, trying to understand what you were feeling.

"It's strange to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, everything... is gone." You told him the truth, trying not to hide your feelings.

Maybe you should be over it by now, but you spent the majority of your high school career with that guy. It sucks to think it was all a waste.

He pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back to comfort you.

"I mean, not to state the obvious, but I didn't get my perfect fantasy with Jared." You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"You'll find your perfect someone." He smiled, unaware of the fluttering in your stomach telling you that maybe you already had.

"Yeah, someone who won't say to my face that he never really loved me." You muttered, feeling the rage burn inside you again.

"He's an ass." You hugged him tighter, enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms.

Peter slowed as he walked past your door, listening as the songs changed. He recognized the intro as a song from folklore, but he wasn't sure exactly which one.

"I'm doing good. I'm on some new shit." You sang loudly unaware of listening ears outside the door.

Peter smiled, walking away so as not to interrupt your healing process again.

Meanwhile, you floated around your room, nearly screaming the along to the breakup songs as you finally rid yourself of any lingering items relating to Jared.

"But it's wonderful to see that it never phased you!" You grinned as you threw it all away, ready to fully move on.

When the elevator doors opened, Peter was assaulted with the blaring sounds of none other than Taylor Swift.

Apparently, you moved your dance party from your room to the living room, thinking you had the space to yourself for a little while.

He watched as you danced around the room, singing and smiling to your heart's content.

"So he calls me up, and he's like 'I still love you' and I'm like, "I'm just, this is exhausting you know, like..." You caught Peter's smile out of the corner of your eye, fully turning to look at him as you belted out the next line. "We are never getting back together. Like ever. Noooo."

You grab his hands, forcing him to dance and twirl around with you as the song comes to an end.

"I take it your really feeling better." Peter smiles, overjoyed to see you looking so exuberant.

"I am." You nod, keeping it simple.

"No more thoughts about Jared?" He questioned, smiling when you didn't even flinch at his name.

"Nope. I forgot that he existed." You smiled cheekily, still dancing although you turned the music down.

"That's good, then." Peter smiled, suddenly nervous. If you truly had moved on, maybe now was his chance.

"Hey Pete?" You questioned, smiling shyly.

"Yeah?" He stood in front of you, unsure of where this was going.

"I realized something this morning." You whispered, nervous for his response, but dying to tell him the truth.

"Yeah?" He waited, eager to know what you were hiding.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, watching as he slowly grinned.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, stunned but grinning like an idiot.

"'Cause, I like you," you smiled, but quickly added 'but I know that it's delicate."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that." He stated, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No?" You leaned into his touch, feeling like you were on cloud nine.

"Nope. Cause I like you too."

He pulled you in for a deeper kiss, celebrating the beginning of this new stage of your relationship.

Permanent tag list:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #marvel #maarvel fic #mcu #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #avengers x reader #peter parker x Stark!reader

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corpse--diem · 3 years

Text

A Reptile Dysfunction | Norma & Erin

TIMING: End of May PARTIES: @normallee LOCATION: Champlain Falls SUMMARY: Erin finds out the hard way what the difference between a lizard and a phlizard is. Norma is of absolutely no help. CONTENT WARNINGS: none

Erin couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken the time to stretch her legs along the trails of the gift that was White Crest National Park. It’d been too long, she did know that. Her mother had still been alive, she was sure of it. Back when the shadows that danced between the trees and foliage only meant that the sun was going down or that the wind was picking up. She’d hike for hours, often alone. Completely unsuspecting and completely at peace. Knowing what she did now, she wasn’t sure how she’d skated through those small adventures without more than a few mosquito bites and a touch of sunburn on her nose. Fear had kept her away, like it had kept her from most things she used to enjoy since returning home. Didn’t feel fair, and after some brief contemplation, she found herself shrugging on a pair of old hiking boots and took the drive to the trail she knew led to Champlain Falls. It was finally warming up, too cold for a proper jump into the water pools, but just the sound was enough to start the calm. Maybe try to remember what it was like for a few hours to be one of those naive locals who could move about freely with little thought to the shadows again. Thankfully she was alone. Most people were at work or school on a weekday afternoon. A perk of owning her own business. She could step away for a few hours when she absolutely needed it. Today, she did.

And for a while, it was pretty normal. The hike went smoothly and she’d made it to the falls at just about lunch time. Reaching down, eyes on the falling stream ahead of her, her hands only found the blanket where her sandwich had been moments ago. “What the hell,” she murmured to herself, shuffling around. No dice. Just a damp trail along the blanket. A flicker of movement caught her eye. It moved fast--a lizard, maybe? Hard to tell. What she did know was that it was making off with her lunch. “Get back here, you little--” She jumped to her feet and started after it.

The last time Norma had been on a hike in White Crest, she had run into flying monkeys. She very much hoped that the trek to the falls a fae told her about would end differently. Or perhaps similarly if the flying monkeys weren’t chasing her. She imagined that the situation would be full of wonderful chaos and a true treat if it had been happening to an unsuspecting human rather than herself. Alas, that was not the case. This time she was determined to get things right, appear very human. She had searched the internet and was told that once humans get to waterfalls, they often had picnics. She then searched how one had those. The internet gave her a list of things to bring and she packed up her basket and made her way to the scenic spot through the winding paths.

It would make sitting by the falls waiting for jumpers to vanish look less conspicuous. At least, that was what she hoped. When she arrived at the falls, Norma opened her basket and started to set her food on the ground. She lined up the ham and cheese slices in a way she had seen online just directly on the ground. The trash bag she had with her she laid out on the ground next to the food to sit on. It was difficult to get right at first, it kept trying to fly away. The blanket she draped over her shoulders even though she was not at all cold. It was a very nice temperature out but if humans usually had picnic blankets, what else was she to do? She had to keep appearances up, after all.

Norma had just settled down to sit and watch the human chaos when it seemed to find her instead. A smile curved onto her face as she watched a philzard crawl over to another human strangely sitting on top of her blanket. Did she know that wasn’t correct? Before Norma could correct her, the reptile had stolen her sandwich strangely placed on top of the blanket and the human was after the creature. “Oh, you should probably let that phlizard go. I have more food if you’d like some,” she said with a smile, gesturing at the cheese squares lined up along the rocks in front of her.

Erin hadn’t even noticed the other woman at first, too caught up in the chase, until she spoke up. The orange squares of cheese lining the rocks made her pause. Hard. Was that a joke? She didn’t pick up on the ph pronunciation. “I don’t--uh, no thanks,” she answered with a wary gaze, her feet trekking towards where she saw the lizard disappear. “I’m more concerned about the lizard getting sick. Can lizards eat peanut butter?” She asked, kneeling to lift up some of the small, loose rocks the creature had whizzed across. Lizards ate bugs, she’d read somewhere once, and were generally carnivorous. The reptile was taking its own fate into its hands here, and while she normally wouldn’t have cared what happened to it because of that, just once she wanted to leave something as good as she left it. Even if it was this stupid little lizard. The rock in her hand dropped back into the mud with a damp thud and she glanced over at the strange woman, brushing the hair from her face with the back of her hand. “You didn’t happen to see where it went did you?”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about the philzard, I’m sure it’s fine.” Humans were so strange. Norma couldn’t imagine feeling compassion for a strange creature that had taken off with her food. She was grateful for the food it was providing her, of course. “I would worry much more about you.” And the philzard’s spray. The smile on her face grew a bit wider. “Are you certain you would rather have that sandwich and not any of the food I have? I made a very nice spread,” she said, gesturing once more to the cheese and ham on the rocks, all placed in a careful row. It really was in this human’s best interest to leave the creature alone and accept that her meal was misplaced for good. However, it did benefit Norma much more if she encouraged this hunt. She could feel traces of frustration building in the air. Good. Chaos wasn’t far behind. Especially not if things went the way they always did with phlizards. So Norma squinted her eyes and looked around a bit. There wasn’t anything she could see just yet, so she stood up, carefully placing her blanket over the food and trash bag for safe keeping, and looked around. “There!” she said, pointing at the small tail wiggling its way out of sight, leaving a trail through the mud as it dragged the sandwich along. “It went that way, we should go chase it.” This would be entertaining if nothing else.

“I think I can handle a lizard,” Erin muttered offhandedly as she glanced around the edge of the water, then back to the other woman. There was something off here, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. That smile definitely wasn’t a warm, friendly one, she knew that much. Her brow rose sharply at the display. “Really--no.” She paused again, genuinely unsure about everything happening with this stranger. “Is there a… joke or something here I’m not getting?” She gestured to the rocks with food on them. Are you okay? Was going to be the next question out of her mouth when she started pointing. “Oh, good eye!” Erin caught the tail end as it slithered away, a mucus-y trail in its wake. She nodded at the woman, more determined than ever to catch this thing. This wasn’t how she expected her afternoon to go but--it could’ve been worse, right? She was on the lizard’s trail, flipping the rocks it was scuttling under, always a few steps behind. This sucker was fast. “Aha!” She shouted when it had cornered itself, too large to fit between the piles of rocks it had run towards. At least not with the sandwich between its jaw. They’d come to an impasse it seemed. Her entire body froze, afraid a sudden move would startle it away.

“Oh god, that’s the ugliest lizard I’ve ever seen in my life,” she remarked, bending her knees ever so slowly, grabbing a stick beside her. “That’s a good lizard. Very good. We just don’t want you getting sick,” she started, using the same soft voice she used on Betty in hopes to coax her into doing something. “I think I got this,” she said to the woman. Quickly she jabbed the stick into the sandwich, knocking it out of the lizard’s mouth and cementing it in place so it couldn’t run away with it. Erin grinned wide but all too soon. As soon as the phlizard’s mouth was empty, it spat out a low, angry hiss followed by a spray of mucus. Erin yelped, groaning as she fell backwards into the mud. “Oh, god, what the fuck,” she sputtered, wiping the slime off of her face and neck, feeling it trickle down her arm and chest. Her heart spiked. It burned.

For a moment, Norma wondered if a normal human would warn the woman, perhaps stop her or pull her away from the lizard. No, she decided, most humans were quite awful to one another, especially to strangers. She had learned that much in her many years on the planet. She was sure of it. So while her hand reached out to pull her back, hovering before falling back to her side, that was as far as she went. Norma didn’t walk towards the creature, simply stood back and watched and waited to soak up the threads of panic and fear that were about to swirl in the atmosphere around them. “Phlizard,” Norma shouted from a few feet away. “Not lizard. I wouldn’t poke it with a stick if I were y--” It was too late. As she predicted, there was mucus spraying everywhere. She ducked. She assumed by the scream that the human did not manage to. And by the looks of it, she was correct in her assumption. “I would like to point out that I did warn you not to engage with the phlizard. They’re very obnoxious.”

She breathed in and felt trickles of chaos seeping into her. It wasn’t much, not enough. Truly, for her own survival, she should push for more. She wanted more. And yet, she didn’t want to risk herself being entangled with the philzard for much longer. Nor did she want to completely blow her cover. She was meant to be human and care for other mortals at least superficially, right? Norma ran over and reached down, hooking her arms under the womans and started to drag her back through the mud towards the water. “Time to leave it alone now. Let’s run if you are able, please. I would very much like to avoid your fate if at all possible.”

A phlizard? It was one of the few panic-stricken questions bouncing around in Erin’s head, layered in between the burning sensation on her skin. The woman was dragging her away from the liza--phlizard. If she wasn’t desperately running for the water and splashing it over her face and body, desperate to make the burning stop, she would have picked up on the woman’s all too calm nature. It helped, a little, but the mucus had burned small holes into her shirt and a rash was beginning to spread along her skin. She could feel it itching beneath the surface. “I--yeah, okay. You did. But why would you tell me to chase it? I was just trying to make sure it--did you know it was going to do that?!” Erin practically screamed, frantically scrubbing her arms in the water. She just wanted one thing. One day. Just a few hours of solitude. Why was that so hard? Why was she so stupid to think she could have that? “What is wrong with you?” What was wrong with this whole damn place?

“Well,” Norma started, brows furrowed as she stood by the water, watching the woman try to wash the mucus off of herself. “I did start by telling you to leave it alone. But you seemed very attached to that sandwich so I figured I would help you find it.” She realized her advice was rather contradictory in hindsight. Still, the chaos was worth it in the end. And humans were often hypocritical so she was certain she didn’t reveal too much. “Oh, did I know if it was going to spray mucus?” Norma asked, tilting her head. “I couldn’t say for certain, no. But they do tend to do that when they are cornered. Or when you try to take food from them. Really you shouldn’t have taunted it. I simply suggested that you follow it.” Her face fell as the woman accused her of being incorrect. That was rather rude, she was sure of it. But more importantly, it could mean her cover was in fact blown. Norma began fidgeting in place, flustered by her fallen facade. She had to fix this. “Wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me, I am perfectly normal, thank you! You’re the one covered in mucus,” she said, huffing out a small laugh to try and mask her anxiety. “Here, I can help. What you’re doing now, that’s never going to be enough.” And with that, Norma pushed the woman into the water.

Erin didn’t really care right now whether or not she was being fair or right--she was covered in burning reptile mucus. “Would’ve fucking loved to know that before you let me chase it,” she grumbled, repeating herself. Made sure she heard it again. It was partially her fault for chasing the stupid thing but this woman knew, and still encouraged her to chase it. She was going to blame her for as long as she liked right about now. “How are you going to--” With a yell, Erin’s back hit the cool water and for a moment, she did forget about the burning sensation crawling up her skin. She popped up, taking a breath, eyes wide and absolutely enraged. “What is wrong with you?” She screamed again, arms splashing and cutting through the water as she pulled herself to her feet. “This is not--helping!!”” The water did feel good against her skin but all she could see was red, her vision narrowing and without thinking she yanked on Norma’s arm and pulled her down with her into the water.

“Well you didn’t ask. I would have told you if you’d asked,” Norma said matter of factly. Humans were so demanding. They wanted all the answers but only when it was convenient to them. No wonder they died so easily. It was a wonder the species survived as long as they had. Still, she couldn’t deny the relief she felt as the woman splashed into the water. She was so starved for chaos, for sustenance, that even small moments of surprise felt like a feast. Norma tilted her head to the side as she watched the mortal scramble. There was more than just surprise. Anger. Rage. And was that… a thirst vengeance? It was almost unmistakable. Even better. It was so tempting to pull it out of her, to feed off it. Norma reached her hand out towards her, she could take just a taste, have just one drop. She was so close to risking it, feeling true power and chaos at her own hand once more, when suddenly, the mortal was reaching out to her instead. Interesting, that’s not what she expec-- “Ahhhh!” Norma yelped as she was yoinked down into the water herself. It was cold. And not as refreshing as it always appeared to be in mortal media. “What is wrong with you?” she shouted back once her head was back above the water. “Now I am in need of assistance! Get me out of here!” she said, flailing about and splashing. She knew how to swim but not well. She was certainly out of practice. If she could avoid drowning again, that would be preferable. It was never enjoyable.

Erin felt no remorse watching the woman flail about, struggling against the water like a toddler learning to swim. Just a sliver of satisfaction she didn’t and wouldn’t address, not right this second. She was confident that this was partially this woman’s fault, anyway. “Try standing up,” she yelled back plainly, her feet slipping in the mud as she hauled herself through the water towards the dry shore. When she let her water-soaked body collapse into the grass, her eyes turned to the burns that still lit up her nerves like a branding iron. The noises from the woman in the water slowly turned into background noise, every sense lighting up in panic. This wasn’t good. Accompanying the burns was some sort of rash, but not any kind Erin had ever seen.

“I have scales.”

The statement came out calmer than she felt. At this point she couldn’t even register how ridiculous it sounded, but she was pulling at her skin, lifting her clothes to inspect the area where the animal’s spray had burned through the fabric. More scales. “Why do I have--” she jumped to her feet, eyes wide, watching the woman, making no attempt to help. Only yelled out “Why the fuck do I have scales?!”

Norma took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks to hold in as much air as she could before trying to push herself to stand. There was some wobbling about, back and forth, until she found her balance just long enough to stumble through the water. It wasn’t incredibly deep, sure, but Norma was taking no chances. She could survive drowning, yes, but at what cost? Still, it wasn’t too hard to clamber to land. It was a shame, her blanket was all wet now. She tossed it aside and sighed. Norma was just about to figure out how to begin drying herself off when she felt the panic rising from the woman beside her. It wasn’t as chaotic as she’d hoped, but she did feel a little bit of satisfaction from it all the same. “Of course you have scales,” she said, practically sighing. “It sprayed you. That’s what happens when a philzard sprays you. You should really avoid that next time.”

Erin wasn’t paying attention to the woman splashing around behind her anymore. All she could see were scales. The only thing screaming in her head were fucking scales. “What do you mean that’s what happens?” Her voice was reaching a shrill pitch. The way the other woman was so nonchalant about the whole ordeal infuriated her further. And why did she keep saying phlizard? She ran back into the water until she was knee deep, scraping at the surface of her skin with her nails but hissed in pain when it proved both futile and painful. “What the fuck,” she murmured angrily under her breath, scrubbing with just her finger tips now. Still hopeless but it was better than standing there and doing nothing. “What do I do? I can’t get them off.” Her eyes jumped up, anger and fear dueling in the strain of her voice. “I can’t get them off!”

Norma breathed deep, drinking in the chaos radiating off of the woman beside her. It was so tempting to reach out and push her just an inch farther, to just send her tail spinning head first into that panic and to feed once more as she should, in her full fury glory. Alas, it was too risky. She’d have to suffice feeding off the scraps surrounding her. She breathed it in once more and wiped some of the water off her arms. “Oh, you can’t get them off,” Norma said simply, reaching up to wring out her hair. “Unless of course you’re a witch.” She paused and glanced back over at the mortal. “You aren’t a witch, are you?” She had a feeling that the witch hunts she incited back in the day wouldn’t be appreciated by the spellcasters in White Crest. And she’d learned long ago that family lineages held grudges. Best to be cautious. “You don’t happen to have a towel or something on you, do you?”

Erin’s head shot up at the casual use of the word witch. Though, she supposed it shouldn’t have been as alarming, considering the new skin coating her arms. A single dry, harsh laugh shook her shoulders. “A witch? Oh. No,” she answered flatly, finally giving up and pulling herself defeatedly from the water. “Not that I’d ever tell you, a complete stranger I wouldn’t trust with even a slice of cheese, even if I was. And yes. I do.” She swiped the picnic blanket from the grass and wrapped it around herself, making no attempt to offer it to the other woman. Her head shook and she muttered half to herself as she gathered her things. “Nope. I’m just another stupid human in this stupid town full of no good, sandwich-stealing, mucus-y asshole lizards.” Her jaw clenched as she patted her skin, which flushed a furious red in the sunlight. The scales were not, in fact, coming off. Nell better not be busy right about now, she thought, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, ready to book it back down the trail at lightning speed. She didn’t want scales. She didn’t want to be a lizard--phlizard--whatever they hell they were. She just wanted a quiet afternoon. That was all. But even this, it seemed, was too much to ask for anymore. She tilted her head at the woman she partially blamed for her current predicament. “But at least I have a blanket.”

“Oh, right. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Norma,” she said, holding her hand out to shake for a second before pulling it back. She really didn’t want to get scales today. Or ever, if avoidable. “You should find yourself a witch unless you enjoy those scale-like rashes. I will not judge you if that’s the case.” It was hard to keep the smile off her face as she felt the wave of anger and thirst for vengeance brewing just beneath the surface of this ‘stupid human,’ as she called herslef. It still wasn’t quite her cup of tea, but she appreciated it all the same. If only she had an erinyes to share the meal with. “I am glad you have a blanket. And I assume by your defiant stance you are not going to share it.” Norma sighed and reached down to gather up her food and soaked blanket and all the rest. “I did have a wonderful time running into you. I’m always glad to make new friends.”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: norma #a reptile dysfunction #//this is pure unadulterated chaos #norma is a GIFT

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carnistirs · 4 years

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cafuné

↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 2: Modern AU

Summary: Aang just really likes braiding Toph’s hair.

Read on ao3 or under the cut

cafuné {Portuguese} the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

‘

“Fuck, are you serious,” he hears Toph mumble in frustration as her fingers snag in her hair.

Aang clears his throat. “I could brush it for you?”

He honestly doesn’t know what possesses him to blurt that out in the open, but it’s too late to take it back now. He waits on bated breath, watches her continue to struggle with the tangles in her hair. She gives up, uttering an agitated go for it, Twinkletoes, and that’s really all the permission he needs before he’s wandering in Sokka’s bathroom, looking for a brush.

The knots look like they’re a pain to deal with, given the unhappy expression on Toph’s face, so he promises to be gentle. Ridiculously enough, he doesn’t know where to start, so he sweeps most of her long hair away from her front, fingers touching the ends of her hair and – oh.

Oh, wow.

Her hair’s really, really soft.

“Did you fall asleep back there?” she asks archly.

“Sorry,” Aang mumbles, the heat rising on his cheeks – stop, she can’t even see you – while he carefully runs the bristles of the brush over her dark tangles.

He gets lost in the repetition of it, quietly marvelling over how smooth and shiny her tresses are after he brushes them over and over. Toph’s hair drapes like satin over his palms and even when there are no knots left to run over, he keeps brushing.

“I think the tangles are gone,” Toph says later, a hint of bemusement in her voice.

Aang sets the brush aside, but doesn’t stop touching her hair; he gathers a chunk of it at the top before separating it into three sections, slowly crossing the strands over to the center. He gathers in more pieces of her hair every time he crosses over a section, and even though he’s never done this on anyone else before, he’s seen his mother do this a hundred times when he was a kid.

Ten minutes later, a French braid falls down Toph’s back and there isn’t a single strand out of place.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could braid,” she murmurs in surprise, her fingers reaching behind to touch the plait curiously. “Thanks, man.”

Toph’s smiling at him, easy and content, and he barks out a laugh to disguise the fact that he’s blushing again.

“It’s a really nice braid,” Katara chimes in with a knowing grin, a tease dangling at the tip of her tongue. “Can you braid my hair too?”

She plops down without giving him the chance to answer – not that he would decline her anyhow. Katara’s hair flows down in pretty waves, smelling like strawberries, but Aang can’t help the frown tugging at the corners of his lips when he touches it.

Her hair just isn’t the same as Toph’s.

‘

They’re in line for a movie that doesn’t premiere for another two hours (“We’re getting good seats this time. I’m not risking another goddamn sore neck by sitting in the front row again,” Zuko hisses—) and it’s astonishing how they still aren’t the first people in line.

“Your buns are getting loose,” Aang says idly, tugging at one of them.

Toph swats his hands away. “Well, don’t make it worse, idiot.”

“I could fix them.”

A statement, not a question – with the amount of times Aang’s volunteered to brush and braid her hair this past month, it shouldn’t exactly be news to her at this point.

He knows Toph’s going to say yes, like she’s done every other time he’s asked, so he eagerly starts unravelling her buns without waiting for her expressed permission. Aang had watched a five-minute hair tutorial a couple of days ago and he couldnot, for the life of him, stop picturing her in the exact hairstyle he’d seen.

“I’m gonna need you to bend over for a little while, T.”

“What? No.”

Aang revels in the silkiness of her hair, ignoring her refusal. “It’s an upside down Dutch braid that leads into space buns.” That’s what the video had been callled anyway. “C’mon, it won’t take that long. Just sit on that bench if you want. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

She sighs, loud and aggravated, but Aang’s already pushing her towards the bench, his touch gentle against the slightness of her body.

“What are you doing?” Suki chirps, appearing with a bowl of popcorn that she’ll probably finish before the movie even starts.

“Suffering,” Toph grumps with her elbows rested on her knees.

“I saw this video the other day and I wanted to see if I could replicate it,” Aang tries – fails – to say casually.

But as soon as he starts braiding, he forgets that Suki’s even there because the glossiness of Toph’s dark hair honestly takes him to a higher plane of existence. Truly, it does. He’s never felt anything like it – Appa’s fur isn’t even as soft as this - and the feeling of being able to manipulate her hair to his will doesn’t help things either.

“Whoa,” Suki murmurs once he’s pinning the second bun to the top of Toph’s head. “That’s so pretty! Aang, do you just go around braiding any girl’s hair?”

“No, he’s only willing to braid Toph’s,” Katara says smugly off to the side.

Aang narrows his eyes. “No one asked you.”

He slides the last bobby pin into her hair and admires his own handiwork, unable to suppress a grin because it does look better. At the risk of getting flat out punched by Toph however, Aang keeps this opinion to himself.

“You like it?” he asks, quiet, meant for her ears only.

Toph’s fingers brush across the crown of her head. “You braided the buns too? Really. You just had to outdo me.” But her lips are curved in a way that softens her face completely and she’s just—

So, so beautiful.

‘

“You never ask me first,” Aang hums happily, fingers weaving her hair together. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing that special. Just going on a date.”

What the fuck.

Aang’s hands freeze in her tresses as he slowly tries to comprehend her statement. His heart leaps to his throat and it threatens to stay there then, suffocating him.

His chest constricts together uncomfortably, his mouth pressing into a thin line, and there’s an ugly, irrational part of him that wants to ruin her hair now. He wants to leave Toph looking like a mess, hoping that her date is shallow enough to stand up a blind girl just because she has a bird’s nest on her head.

He immediately feels awful for thinking such a thought, but there’s something clawing at the bottom of his stomach, green-eyed and ravenous.

“Who’s—” Aang can’t even hear his voice through the shrill noise ringing through his ears. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“You know Kanto? The guy that sits in the front row of our English Comp class?”

He vaguely remembers this Kanto guy – vaguely- which means there’s really nothing that special about him in the first place.

Toph perks up a half hour later. “Oh, are you done? What’s this one called?”

“A waterfall braid.”

It’s twisted halfway up, leaving the rest of her hair to fall down in soft waves he created with the use of Katara’s curling wand. Fucking monkeyfeathers, he’d given her waves. Kanto’s not going to be able to keep his hands off her. What the fuck did he just do—

Her phone beeps then, breaking his train of thought. “Shit, I’m late,” Toph says, dragging a finger around one of her waves just to feel the gentle curl of it. “Thanks, Twinkletoes! I owe you one.”

And then she’s grabbing her cane and running out the door, leaving Aang to blink after her with a pathetic kind of despondence. He exhales sharply, hands white-knuckled as they clench the edge of the bathroom counter.

‘

He’s halfway through a large tub of ice cream when she comes barging back into his apartment two hours later.

Toph rips the spoon out of his mouth and snatches the ice cream from his hands before dumping herself on the sofa next to him. She takes a spoonful, immediately blanching when the taste seeps into her tongue.

“Why’s this ice cream so nutty?”

“It’s dairy-free,” Aang replies, taking the tub before she can throw it halfway across the room. “So, um, was your date...good?”

“No,” comes a snort. “Asshole kept talking about himself, so I just paid the bill and walked out.”

Aang smiles in outward delight because that’s such a Toph thing to do. He should feel bad that her date didn’t work out, like any other good friend would, but he really, really doesn’t.

“Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Nah,” she waves an airy hand. “I just feel kind of bad because you spent all that time on my hair. It feels like a waste.”

A nervous thrumming beneath his skin. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“The date’s over.” Toph turns her head and makes a point of blinking milky green eyes at him, gently knocking her knuckles against the side of his head. “You going all airhead on me again?”

“No,” he laughs, inwardly cringing, because it sounds so high-pitched in the space between them. “Your night shouldn’t end on a bad note. Let me take you somewhere fun. It’ll be a better date.”

And—

Terrible, horrendous silence.

“Date,” Toph repeats after too long of a while, her voice contemplative and strained with something else. “As friends?”

“Yeah, why not? Friends go on dates all the time.” Aang breathes in, lets it whistle out silently through his teeth, and he doesn’t know why he even bothers keeping quiet when he knows she can probably hear him. She can probably hear the silly, birdlike flutter of his heart as well, just beating around recklessly in his chest. “If you’re still not having a good time, just forget it it ever happened. Or punch me if you want.”

“What happens if I have a good time?”

“Then you let me take you out on another date and we keep going from there.”

Toph tips her head back towards the flashing TV and his eyes linger on the arch of her cheekbone, on the delicate cut of her jaw. “Fine,” she ends up saying, smirking through the faint tinge of pink settled on her face. “Just so you know, I’m looking forward to punching you.”

So he takes Toph to a roller skating rink that’s still open this late. Toph trades her cane for his arm as they skate slow circles around the rink, and Aang tries not to show how pleased he is just to have her hold onto him, to feel her small fingers in the crook of his elbow. She laughs with him and at him, loud and blithe, her long hair floating behind her.

Aang trips once because he stares at her too long, even taking her down with him as he grasps desperately at her hands, but she never gets mad at him.

(She still punches his arm though, despite having a good time. He’s okay with it.)

‘

“For someone who’s glaringly bald, you’re a huge hair snob.”

Aang opens his mouth to argue with her because no, he’s never been a huge snob of anything in his life, but then he takes stock of their current situation. They’re pulled off to the side, ten minutes away from the restaurant, with his hands in her hair because Toph had come to him with a look – he doesn’t even know what to call it – that had mismatched braids stretched over her forehead like they’re supposed to be her bangs.

“Who did this to you,” Aang says instead.

Toph grins widely, clearly amused at him. “Suki.”

Scoffs. “I love Suki, but that girl only has, like, three go-to hairstyles at best. You would have been better off with Katara. Or Sokka at least.”

“Damn, shots fired. Suki’s so kicking your ass when she hears this.”

“No one likes snitches, you know,” Aang says, tugging at her hair in a way that makes Toph stick her tongue out at him.

It’s very cute – the flash of a pink tongue and her nose scrunching up at him. In the end, he fixes it with a fishtail braid that has a tighly bound start and a body that curves into a shapely weave of thicker strands. It looks like a mermaid’s figure, actually, and he’s very proud of it.

Okay, wow, he really is a hair snob—

Aang doesn’t get to finish the rest of that thought because something soft is touching the corner of his mouth. It’s a teasing gesture, entirely light against his bottom lip, and he still feels incredibly breathless by the time Toph’s pulling her head back.

“I missed, didn’t I?” Toph laughs to herself, turning her face away.

He follows her helplessly though, leaning over the emergency brake to cup her face in his sun-kissed palms. He dips his head, his mouth burning hot as he brushes it against hers once, twice, three times, tasting sweet cheeries all the while. Aang feels her smile faintly against his lips and he loves it, loves feeling it grace her face, loves tracing the bend of it with his own mouth.

Toph makes a quiet noise when he scrapes his teeth along the plumb of her mouth and he thinks he’ll go mad at that sound. He presses harder against her, feels her lips part under the sweep of his tongue—

“Oh—” Aang jerks back when he realizes he’s completely pressing her into the corner of the passenger seat, when he realizes how small she is under his awkward set of long limbs. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” is her eloquent reply as straightens her sunglasses. “Did you hear me complaining?”

“It was okay then?” he asks, flustered.

“Yes. You’re a phenomenal kisser. Totally rocked my world,” Toph retorts dryly, making him beet-red at this point, but she leans in to kiss him again, not even missing his mouth this time. “This better be an amazing vegan restaurant you’re taking me to.”

Aang beams, pink-cheeked. “It is! You’ll love the chipotle tacos. It doesn’t even taste like tofu.”

Once he pulls back onto the road, his fingers twitch between their armrests, itching to hold her hand. He hadn’t been that transparent, he thinks, but then Toph lets out a mild sigh as she slots her fingers through the holes of his own, stilling his restlessness.

‘

It’s Suki’s turn for movie night – which Aang always dreads – because she always, undoubtedly, picks the scariest ones to watch. Suki is a tyrant who laughs in the face of danger (“I pick them because I know you hate them,” she cackles, “and because I like hearing Sokka and Zuko scream like little girls.”) and consistently feeds off of their discomfort.

He spends most of the time ignoring the disturbing noises coming from the TV and focuses on spinning Toph’s tresses into an intricate flower braid he’d seen on Instagram.

“You’re really not watching?” Toph whispers, body leaning against his knees as she sprawls on the floor.

“I want to sleep through the night,” he explains pointedly. “Why does it have to be horror? What’s wrong with rom-coms?”

“Everything.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“I honestly can’t believe you meant every word of that,” Toph throws back, feigning disgust.

Aang frames her face with his hands, tipping it back so that he’s treated to an upside down view. He presses a happy kiss to her mouth, flicking his tongue playfully over her teeth while Sokka squawks out no oogies! from across the room.

His girlfriend’s hair looks like the epitome of spring when he’s done with it, what with her strands braided into three rosettes at the back of her head. He watches Toph slowly touch the formed petals of the braided updo and, unable to help himself, cranes his neck a bit to kiss her fingers affectionately.

‘

“No,” he pleads in a murmur when her fingers reach behind to undo her hair. “Leave it.”

Toph’s brow lifts, but there’s a knowing grin on her face. “Why?”

She’s sitting right on Aang’s stomach in nothing but her undergarments, hovering over him like some otherworldly creature. The crown braid he’s intertwined in her hair is still perfectly intact and she simply looks untouchable, like she can step on him and he’d very much welcome it.

“You look like a queen,” he breathes out in a rasp, swallowing tightly.

His hands slide up Toph’s thighs to rest on the creamy skin of her hips, fingers curling to hold on, to leave light impressions behind. As much as he loves loosening her hair for her at the end of the day, feeling ringlets and waves as he brushes them out with his fingers, he just wants her to keep the braid on longer just this once.

Aang takes the hand that’s pressing against his shoulder, slanting his mouth over her wrist. “You can tell me what to do. If you want.”

“Uh, I already do? On a daily basis.”

He flushes. “I meant here. In bed. Only if you want, T.”

Toph’s lips melt into a smirk and he immediately feels his blood rush so far down south at that expression. “Is it the hair? It’s gotta be,” she hums, bending over to grip his chin in her palm. He exhales in a tremor when she tugs his bottom lip into her mouth. “Alright, Twinkletoes, hands above your head and don’t touch me until I tell you to, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” comes out of Aang as easy as breathing while he crosses his wrists above his head, his heart racing.

‘

When one of Aang’s professors shortens the deadline to his twenty-page paper out of nowhere – leaving him a week to finish the assignment when he initally had three weeks left – he buries his face in his hands and screams.

Fifteen seconds later: “Aang?”

Toph appears at the doorway with a disgruntled Appa at her heels; disgruntled, because she’s no longer paying attention to the large St. Bernard licking at her ankle.

And he doesn’t care how particularly needy he looks when he holds an arm out to her, wanting her, but he does it without hesitation. Her fingertips barely have the chance to graze his before he’s yanking her onto his lap, tucking his face into her neck. He hears Appa whining before he joins them too, plopping down by Aang’s chair with a grunt.

She smells so fresh, like apples and honey, and he wants to kiss her skin all over until the taste is in his mouth.

“You okay?”

“My philosophy professor,” he groans, muffled against her skin, “is so horrible. This is the third time he’s done this.”

“He changed the due date to your paper again?” He nods, miserable. “Want me to kick his ass? Just give me some badass viking braids and I’ll fucking do it.”

Smiles. “You can’t assault the faculty.”

“Says who.”

Aang sprinkles soft kisses along her jaw, his fingers already relieving her hair from its messy topknot. The viking braids he has in mind will probably take an hour to do, judging by the sheer complexity of it, but the work will clear his mind from the stress he doesn’t want. Toph sits straighter on his lap, used to the motions by now, and it makes him grin wider.

He rubs his fingers against her scalp. “Thank you.”

Already, it feels like his chest is less tight. Like he can breathe easier.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies, closing her eyes in placid content. “Badass viking braids, and then I kill this professor of yours.”

‘

“You sure you want to give hair clippers to a blind girl? What if I accidentally turn this into a bloodbath?”

“I think the more pressing concern is why you’re smiling at the thought of it.”

“That’s just my face. Way to make me feel self-conscious about it.”

“You’ve never been self-conscious about anything in your life.” Softer, quieter: “And you never need to be. At least around me.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for you to be this sappy.” Clicks on the clippers. “Okay, let’s do this. I actually miss touching your bald head.”

“Maybe let me do it with you first a few times? And once you get the feel for it, I’ll hand it off to you.”

“This is fucking crazy.”

“You trust me?”

Mocks back in a voice that’s supposed to sound like him: “I think the more pressing concern is if you trust me.”

He laughs, bright and easy. “Yeah, I trust you.”

#taang #aang #toph #aang/toph #taangweek #taang week 2020 #modern au #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #teabag fics

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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Birth the Stars

Author’s Note: Hello all! So, this story is shamelessly and selfishly just for me. It’s my birthday, you see, and I was inspired by @sherrybaby14 and her delightful Loki birthday wish story. Should you like it, as usual, leave some love! Tag lists, asks and requests are open! P.S. The gif is beautiful and I thank the OP! P.P.S. I will be on vacation for the next week, so, no planned posts, but I’ll make it up to you! Promise! Summary: Your special day coincides with a cosmic event and Loki helps you celebrate it grand fashion. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: SMUT, just sweet birthday SMUT

How could you describe something that no earthly words were designed for?

Through the massive glass shield you had an expansive view of the galaxy unfolding in burning stars and kaleidoscopic clouds. Clouds that came in every color Crayola could possibly conceive, and a few they would never believe, curled closer, lit from behind by the strength of a foreign sun.

Scientifically, you understood that it was gas and dust and light bending, blending, to create the spectacle you were staring at, slack jawed. But seeing it? Watching it rise on the unending horizon of space from the security of Loki's state room was something else entirely. And you were lost in wonder.

"Glorious, is it not?" Sneaking in on silent feet, his handsome face reflected in the glass, Loki offered you a small smile. His voice is silky and soft, reverent and respectful of your contemplative quiet.

Your nod is barely perceptible, "I… I can't bear to look away. It's magnificent."

Feeling his masculine presence at your back, blue eyes on you, "Magnificent… truly."

Sighing sweetly, stepping closer to the protective crystal window, "I'm talking about the nebula."

A hand skates over your hip, hugging your curves through the layers of your frock. The other brushes lightly over your bare shoulder, fingers toying with the strap, and you cover them with your own.

"I am not."

Acknowledging him with a slight bow, "You, dearest, are just as rare…" Loki's soft lips press against that tender place behind your ear as you tilt your head, "Just as beautiful…" Now your jaw, "and more than magnificent."

Seeing your smile in reflection, "Liar."

"Me? I would never!" His mock innocence makes you chuckle which Loki uses to his advantage, shamelessly. Lacing his fingers through yours, Loki gently pulls your arms between your bodies, effectively pinning you against your window to other worlds.

Standing there, breathing synced with Loki's, you lose yourself in the incredible view. So easily lost to the streaks of stardust swirling in space, as if the ancient arcs of light and color were a painting hung in the sky of Creation's museum, "On Earth, it takes eight minutes for the light of the sun to reach the planet, the people… Did you know that?"

Sensing his head shake, continuing, "How many light years ago did this nebula begin, I wonder? How long does it take to bring a star… a galaxy into the world?"

Those lips, his lips, trailed over you making strategic stops along the nape of your neck. Brushing over your tight tendon, his sharp teeth nip at the junction, your cooing response music to Loki's ears. "Making something so… perfect takes time, love. Which reminds me. Do you know what today is, dearest?"

Still looking out at the scenery, you shake your head, "Loki, since coming aboard I have lost track of so many things… the month, the day, the time… my sense of modesty."

Raising his eyebrow with a sly smirk, "I like to think I helped with that last one…"

"Oh, most definitely! But, sorry, no… I don't know what day it is."

Wrapping your hands around Loki's trim figure, his back to your chest, grounds you to this place. To him. But it's true that your world has gone topsy turvy since Loki entered your life. You haven't missed the way things were, instead, enjoying the amazing moments only a person like Loki could offer had become your new normal.

Things like a front row seat to the ever expanding universe. It startled you and delighted you. So like the man you loved.

"It is your birthday, my darling. And everyone is waiting now to celebrate with you."

Cheeks turning crimson, you burrowed further into Loki's arms, "No! Is it really?"

"Yes… really."

"Good thing someone was keeping track…", you answer softly.

Stepping snuggly against you, Loki's chin to your collarbone, "Just think, you and this cluster of stars will share a birthday."

Another twinkling laugh escapes you at the idea of billions of brilliant brothers and sisters. Deepening silence returns as a streak of yellow collapses into a flash of green, swirling into teals before pulsing purple. "Intergalactic fireworks for your special day, sweetling."

Shivering at the awe inspiring sight before you and the nearness of the God behind, Loki hums huskily, "Cold?"

Still gazing into the cosmos, "My dress isn't terribly thick."

"But it is lovely. Perfect for tonight…" Layers of gauzy chiffon in emerald and mint flowed from the thin straps tied at your shoulders. It was a gown without a waist, falling in waves to the floor, after accentuating your abundant bust, of course.

Whining, just a little, "I had almost forgotten about tonight. What time is it?"

"Early still." Wandering hands trail up your arms, caressing the roundness of your shoulders, kissing each one in turn. A strong hand turns your chin, your mouth parting for Loki's, his tongue eagerly licking over your bottom lip.

Deepening the kiss, Loki kept you from turning into his arms, instead his hips held you in place. "Keep watching, little dove. Put your hands on the glass, like this."

Bending at the elbow, Loki folded your forearms forward, fingers spread. The glass is smooth and cool to the touch. Crowding into you, trapping your body like a butterfly on display, Loki's hold on you tightened. His mouth, suddenly savage, sampled the sugared skin of your neck, swept over your clavicle, stroked the shell of your ear.

Whimpering in want, forced focus on the star nursery expanding ahead of you, your head rested back on Loki's chest. "It is creation… that glowing swirl of color in the distance. Hot and cold, dark and light, all of those… contrasts colliding."

Slim fingers fidget with your dress. First the right tie drops, the weight of your gown shifting to to the left, throwing you off balance for a beat. Loki's palm falls to your freed breast, his skin warm compared to the space chilled glass in front of you. Moaning, the startling difference between your gossamer garb, his petting paw and the chilled wall is suddenly too much.

The second strap lets go and your fancy shift puddles at your feet with a sigh. Loki covers your exposed chest with his hands, kneading your sensitive globes in a way that walks the line between too hard and not hard enough. His iron chest leans into your back as your tender nipples harden against the window, held down by the exquisite weight of Loki's lean body on your own.

"Loki… I… What if…?"

Cutting you off with a husk, "Hush… there's no one to see you but me. And infinity."

Feather light, Loki's touch scorches down your ribs. At the swell of your hips he hooks your flimsy panties at the waist, tugging them down to your knees. "Spread your legs for me kitten. That's it. Just like that."

Boxed in, nowhere to hide your body, your want, he grants you enough room to accommodate his wayward wandering hands. Maybe you should feel shame at being so casually exhibited to the expanding universe. But you don't.

What you do feel is powerful. It's as if you are manifesting the molecules which are dancing in that disco ball of unimaginable energy, calling them to you, bringing forth a million stars and with them a thousand planets. It is life! It is beautiful. And it is terrifying.

Loki's fingers find your silky slit, spreading your saucy excitement over your straining bud. Circling you in slow, simple, strokes your body starts to sing. Simpering, you're breathing in short gasps, fogging the glass in front of you and distorting the stellar symphony of light and color beyond your vessel.

Using his unoccupied hand to tangle your short hair, Loki pulls your head back from the window, attaching his hungry mouth to your throat. His fingers grind against your firm clitoris, intent on releasing your sexual tension. Cold, so cold, your collapsed breasts are sensitive and screaming for respite.

As you are forced to feel all of this competing stimulus, the fibers of your feminine form have compressed closer and closer and closer together. Just like the nebulous cluster before you, to grow you must crack, shatter into a galaxy of glowing gaseous orbs. Expanding, your excitement is matched by the spreading of stellar space dust, colors swirling as Loki's digits dance deliciously.

His own breathing hitches as your body vibrates under his hands. You can't face him, he's too close, the clear glass ensures that. So you have to endure hot kisses on your chilled cheeks, your icy shoulders, your cool clavicle. When he sucks on the base of your neck, you hiss, pushing your hips forward, seeking more. Undone, Loki's teeth break through the thin barrier of your skin with a flash of pain.

Your ecstasy explodes from deep within. Sweaty palms slide down the see through barrier, barely supporting your weight. Legs shaking, you flood over Loki's fingers and your thighs, grateful for his Godly strength, his sturdy support.

He lingers, letting you catch your breath, his strong hand resting over yours as if together you could reach out and capture the haze of colors in the clouds rolling by. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself, trembling at the power of your pleasure, overcome by the intimacy of Loki's attention. Shivering, goosebumps break over your bare arms.

Pulling you back into his chest, Loki rubs his hands across you, warming you. Dropping low, he lifts your panties, placing them on your hips where they started. As you struggle to calm your racing heart Loki glides your gown back over your bruised bosom, "Can you hold this, darling?" And with your help the straps of your dress are tied properly once more.

Tearing your eyes from the fiery furnace of creation in front of you, your head rolls onto Loki's chest, "Wow..."

You spin in his arms, molding yourself to him, staring up at Loki, the chaotic center of your own galaxy. Finding your dewy mouth eager and accepting, ready for his talented tongue, Loki kissed you deeply. Curling your hands into his raven locks, returning to Loki all of the pleasing passion he had given to you, and soon your body was craving more.

"Hmm… we have to stop now. People will come looking for us."

His voice was ragged from pleasure denied, something that pleased you greatly, so you purred, "Let them look!"

Sliding your hands up Loki's chest, he grabbed your wrists, "Oh, darling! There will be time for that later."

"Promise?" Wiggling against him, teasing Loki shameless had your smiling.

Pressing a kiss to each of your palms, releasing his grip, "Promise."

When you stepped back, smiling, Loki whispered, "Happy Birthday, sweetling."

And it was.

--- Tag Team: @just-random-obsessions @iamverity @brokenthelovely @nonsensicalobsessions @archy3001 @rorybutnotgilmore @vodka-and-some-sass @mizfit2 @jamielea81 @jessiejunebug @alexakeyloveloki @procrastinatinglikeabitch @thefallenbibliophilequote @lots-of-loki

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki birthday #loki smut #loki fanfic #mcu smut #hot loki #space loki

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kpopchangedme · 4 years

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All I Want For Christmas is: The Maple Goddess [Youngjae]

Love is in the air at the Christmas Market when you finally get to spend some quality time with the cute guy from the ice skating rink.

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: SFW - Holiday Season - Romance - First Date - shy!jae || [One Shot]

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

GOT7 | M.list

You’re glorious today, as usual. Your red winter coat brings out the colours of your cheeks, even from the other side of the alley, you're glowing. Youngjae rolls his thick sleeve to peek at his watch, almost an hour to go before his first break… Sniffing, he observes from his fortune hideout as you explain something to rare morning onlookers, waving your hands around energetically. When he's sitting down behind his booth, he's mostly concealed by the counter, hardly able to see you. In the end, they buy something from the stand, how could they not? No one can resist a smile like yours, and you grin every time you make a sale. A series of aggressive knocks on his wooden counter forces him out of his daydream. He stands up from his chair in a hurry, taken by surprise.

“Size twelve.” A boy narrows his eyes haughtily and his four friends snicker behind him. He's a teenager – he was probably in diapers when Youngjae finished high school – but still, he has nothing but contempt for the older guy. The Ice Skating Rink promised to be a romantic mystical workplace with its Christmas lights and view on the giant decorated tree, but it turned out to be a damn babysitting job.

Don't push your friends... No headsets! I told you, this is your last warning...

“Then it's size eleven,” Youngjae blinks, quickly catching on, “and 10 bucks.”

“The raffle guy said you'd make us a discount!” They immediately start to whine in protest, and Youngjae bites the interior of his cheek to remain polite. Grabbing the frame of his booth, he bends through the opening to glare at his ‘friend’. Bambam shrugs unapologetically, not looking exactly contrite enough to his liking. He's been sending his victims to the rink for discounts far too often this past month.

“How much do you have left?”

Sighing, Youngjae bargains with the group, ending up renting all of them skates at half the value. How are other businesses supposed to make a living if Bambam keeps scamming kids out of their allowance? He cusses lowly, picking up 5 pairs of ice skates from the tablets behind him and handing them. It's his first year working at The White Miracle Market and definitely his last. He thought it would be a great opportunity to earn some extra cash for his Christmas gifts, but that's not how it went. Instead, he ended up spending his days freezing to death, quarrelling with kids, and spending all of his money on the job.

Work with us, they said…

Youngjae shouldn't have let himself get convinced by the guys. He's the only one that ended up in a stall with a defective heater and… Ok, fine, admittedly he has the greatest view of all time… Raising his head to your booth facing his, he forgets for a brief second he's still standing up and hits the large metal radiator hanging above. Yelping, he reaches for his head with both gloves, for once thankful the thing isn't working at full capacity. Through his tears, he glares at the heater with rancour.

It will be fun, they said…

Carefully sitting back, Youngjae loses the next half-hour reluctantly monitoring the skating little monsters through his left side window. He doesn't even find it in himself to scold them when they start throwing ice at each other. One could lose an eye or two for all he cares.

___

Today is a bit of a slow start. It could come as a surprise considering there are only a few days left before Christmas, but it's often like that during the day. People come to the Market for enchantment and a chaotic array of wooden stalls doesn't quite reach its full magical effect before sunset. Even with the current beautiful snow falling in slow motion from the gray sky. Of course, your booth isn't like the other boring ones, you don't rely on fir ornaments, red velvet bows or fairy lights to sell. Undeniably, the Maplesque!’ strongest asset is the alluring smell of maple syrup always cooking in the large pan.

“Ouch,” Emma giggles, making you raise your head from the wood bucket of clean snow you're preparing, “that outta hurt!”

“What?” Whipping around to see what she means, you wince. Cute guy from the ice skating booth is holding the top of his head with both hands. Above him, his stall's radiator is wobbling. You hope he didn't burn himself. “Don't stare,” mortified by the secondhand embarrassment, you click your tongue, forcing your sister's eyes down.

“Why not?” She smirks, leaning above the counter and making the display of leaf-shaped lollipops tilt dangerously. “He stares at us all day.”

“Does. Not.” You lie, pushing the rack back to safety and Emma rolls her eyes. “Stop being delusional and go check the pan's temperature.”

“In case you didn't notice…” She stretches both arms open towards the empty snowy alley like she's the messiah. “No one buys your taffy before supper, Ô dear Maple Goddess.”

“If you're unhappy, you can go home.” Grumbling, you round the booth, done with your taffy-on-ice tempting display. Walking by the pan, you check it yourself, pleased to find the temperature of the syrup is climbing slowly.

“There's no ridiculously hot guys at home.” Emma sing-songs and you look at her, dumbfounded. “The White Miracle might be cold but I swear, there's no better place to be in town…”

“What?” Crouching, you plug the hot chocolate machine. Is this why she comes to the Market even though she never lends a hand?

Your little sister has been obsessing a lot about boys lately, maybe she's at that age. In previous years, she never cared to visit. Your parents were the ones running this booth while you helped out as much as you could. It's the first year you fully took over so they could stay on the farm, handling most of the crafting and shipping. This Christmas Market is a tradition, sort of a mandatory one when it’s the whole family business. Holidays are always very busy, right before the maple season starts.

“Are you dumb?” Emma snorts in disbelief, “Blind? Every guy here is sexier than the other. It's like they are fighting every day to win me over. There's the toymakers pair, very kissable under potential mistletoe; the steamy ticket seller, I personally find his constant frowning highly attractive; there's Santa, help me Lord-”

“I guess I’m too busy to notice,” you interrupt unimpressed and check the display one last time to see if everything is in order, “someone has to work our booth.”

“Well, hot rental-guy notices, rental-guy isn't blind. Everyone at TWM knows he's desperately pining over you!” You turn to her – acting lost – and she rolls her eyes once more in desperation. Without another word, Emma raises her glove the rink’s way, unsubtly pointing to the man in his ice skating booth. Gasping, you jump forward to pull down her arm, feeling your whole face flush in shame. You're acutely aware of how much he looks your way, there's no need to make it more obvious. Really, how bold can a fifteen years old get?

“Jesus, Emma,” heaving you hold her arm down tightly, “we don't point at people!”

She tugs at it, but you don't let go. “Oh look, he's staring again!” She waves hello his way and you let her go in horror. Urgently spinning around only to discover that rental-guy isn't looking your way. Not at all, in fact, he seems rather absorbed by the contemplation of the kids skating on the rink. “You should see your face right now!” Emma cracks up, sinking back into her chair with a book and you kick her leg, fuming. You swear sometimes she still acts like a 10 years old. "Admit it, you like him back, he's cute...”

You don't dignify this with an answer, dropping your chin into your open palms, bent in two, elbows resting on the counter. Cute? Ice skating guy is cute alright. You aren't as blind as you'd want her to believe. You've been looking forward to his breaks for an entire month.

You asked you noted; Choi Youngjae, your age, first year working at the White Miracle, single… Very unsubtly crushing on you and talking about it to a lot of people.

He's off in around 50 minutes; which means he’ll come by to pick two maple hot chocolates just to see you. You hate to admit, but he is at his cutest when he's a blushing mess for you.

In a parallel universe, one where the Holiday season truly is magical… You'd both do a lot more than stare.

He'd actually ask you out, maybe he'd spill his drink on his coat while doing so, but you wouldn't mind. You wouldn't mind because you'd be busy being nervous yourself, smoothly agreeing to anything. You like him too, a lot. How could you not fall for the guy who gave you the most flattering nickname to ever be?

Not Farm-Girl like back when you were in high school.

Maple. Goddess.

You're an OG of this Christmas Market, so of course, everyone told you about him. The White Miracle’ staff is like a second family, you were made aware of his infatuation within a week of him starting here. Even the guy at the Mulled Wine stall knew about Youngjae and you and he's a loner that keeps to himself.

You bite the interior of your cheek, sneaking another glance at the rental booth.

Maybe you should just ask him out yourself. It's not like waiting on him is doing any good and Holiday season is almost over...

___

To be honest, Youngjae doesn't feel particularly excited at Jackson showing up for his break. It's suspiciously that he considers his friend when his face pops over the counter to gaze down at him. By this point, Youngjae was dozing off, ice rink empty and his will to live in the negative – matching the mercury-in-glass quite nicely.

“OY!” The exuberant chocolate-lover greets, face sliced in two by his largest grin. The last time they spoke was two days prior, Jackson was so taken by some dumb competition with another booth that he snapped and told Youngjae off. He got mad and claimed he was done, that he couldn't stand hearing about y/n again.

“Hi,” wary, Youngjae sits straight, “I thought you didn't want to be around me anymore.”

Jackson's face twists, “What? I never said that. I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘man-up and ask her out for baby-Jesus’s sake!’... But I’m here to apologize, I'm sorry I yelled, Jinyoung says I need to make amends…” Picture of innocence, the childish man smiles and tilts his head. This look on him is never a good omen. Whenever Jackson wiggles his brows like that, he's always about to cause a holy mess. “Sooooooooo,” he goes on mischievously, “I thought about it and decided I should be the one that buys you hot chocolate today.” The last words are utter so theatrically they’re barely words at all: “At last, I shall meet your maple dame!”

Sheer panic courses through Youngjae's body when he understands. He knew he had reasons to be apprehensive. Of course Jackson is gonna get involved with his crush! The man can't ever stay out of anyone's business! Your formal rejection is the last thing he needs before Christmas. He'd much prefer remaining anonymous.

Unfortunately, Jackson has already crossed the snowy alley in your direction before he is even out, running after him. Mid-way there, Youngjae stops altogether hesitating; he could face this like a man and apologize, or run away and never come back to this cursed Market… Sadly, then he'd never see you again.

There's no doubt he's tomato red when he finally joins his former friend in front of the Maplesque! stall. You're already smiling, greeting them, as kind and breathtaking as ever.

“HI, HELLO!” Jackson blurts out too loudly, making you twitch back in surprise. “You're the Maple Goddess!” Dumbfounded, your eyes fall on Youngjae, standing a step back and wincing nervously.

“It's just Y-Y/n,” you stutter cutely on your own name, making his knees weak, “you're the chocol-”

“Jackson Wang!” Your little sister seemingly jumps from under the counter, eyes glimmering in awe. She's there every day with you, always on her phone or reading a book. “Excuse my sis, she's no good around hot guys!” Bending in two through the stall opening, the younger girl reaches to offer her hand in a hurry. To Youngjae's despair, she's obviously very taken by Jackson.

Getting rejected might not be the worst possible outcome to this encounter after all, you could fall for the chocolatier's charm. Like everyone else always does...

"Well, aren't you a treat!” Instead of shaking her hand – like a normal human being – the bold man straight up kisses her glove. Youngjae cringes so hard, he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “And you are...”

“Emma!” She blurts out in pure glee:

“Please Y/n, don't mind Jackson!” Finally stepping up, Youngjae slaps a 10$ bill on the counter, startling you. Gulping, he falters under your wide gaze, “He's always been odd.”

“I’m afraid his reputation precedes him.” You divert your eyes to the bill, biting your lower lip. “Two maple hot chocos coming.” Turning around in haste, you elbow the lollipop display and your sister catches it with a dramatic eye roll before it crashes. Youngjae can only smile like a fool, observing as you work. You're irresistible.

"So – Maple Goddess – are you free?” You're pouring the beverages when Jackson asks the question and you visibly spasm, nearly scalding yourself. Youngjae turns to his friend in horror. He might want to help, but he's as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

Emma snorts; “Yes, but Y/n's all work and no fun.” The young girl plops herself down on the counter, dropping her chin in her palm to gaze at the older men. “I'm all fun.”

"You’re jailbait.” You deadpan ruthlessly, bringing the men's attention back on you and making your sister whine. Still, you frown in concentration, pouring syrup in the two hot chocolates. “I’m just busy building a maple empire, Jackson, I’m sure you can relate.”

The chocolatier seems severely undermined and he grimaces; “That's unfortunate, Youngjae was hoping you'd join us for a break at the rink.” Wait, what!? Jackson just said what?

“Me, skate? On ice.” You seem confused, as though that's the strangest idea ever. Oh God, you hate them both already. You're gonna reject him.

“Yes…” Narrowing his eyes at his friend meanly, Youngjae clenches his fists, mustering his courage. For weeks, he had been considering the best way to asking you out and that wasn't it at all. “I was wondering if you would like to take a break from the stall and skate with me… and Jackson.” He's completely winded at the prospect but his friend smiles brightly, offering two thumbs up, very proud of himself. What is the point of this? With Jackson there, that's not even a date. It doesn't help him at all, it's a shitty plan.

“Oh, the thing is–” You start to protest but get interrupted.

“I’ll keep the booth!” Emma blurts out, beaming and you turn to her with a scowl. “I can manage here for a while, you go… Have fun… With guys...”

“You don't have to!” Youngjae eagerly offers an out, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. Still, his heart is pounding in expectation, waiting for your answer. Part of him wants to murder Jackson for forcing him out of his comfort zone, but what's done is done. The two maple hot mugs are now abandoned on the counter, steaming.

“I...” You seem to be unsure what to say, put on the spot. It takes a moment for you to finally make a choice. “Y-Yes, I would like that a lot.”

___

You're buzzing in a mix of excitement and dread stepping out of the booth. Even after agreeing, you aren't sure how it happened, don't know how you even let yourself get convinced. Sure, you've been daydreaming about spending time with rental-guy for a month – Youngjae – but still… like that? You must have momentarily lost your mind. And it's not like he invited you to join them on his own, his friend did. You follow awkwardly when both men walk back to the rental booth, Emma delighted coos echoing from the Maplesque!. Really, you're gonna have to kick her ass when you get back home tonight.

You should say something – call this whole ice skating thing off – but instead, you give Youngjae your shoe size, waiting as the guys silently bicker with one another. Clearly, you aren't the only one that hasn't thought stuff through.

You're still trying to find a way to get out of this without hurting anyone's feeling when Jackson suddenly slaps his forehead. It's like he just remembered he forgot to close the tap back home. "Oh SHOO!” The man pouts dramatically and his friend turns to him, oblong eyes round of evident apprehension. Jackson is already stepping backwards in a hurry, fleeing away from you both. He fakes looking down at his phone. “I forgot Mark had something to tell me! I need to go right now!” He's almost running up the alley now. “May your date be maple and bright!”

Wait.

What.

Date?

Did the chocolatier just set you up with his friend?

You knew you intimidated rental-guy – so did the whole world – but you didn't think it would come to this. When you face Youngjae however, you realize this wasn't his plan either. He's staring blankly at the pair of skates he picked up for you on the counter, cheekbones afire. Clearly, he's in shock. His friend just forced this unto him and he doesn't know what to do.

Wow. Can it be considered a real date if you're coerced into it? Even if you both want to meet, dates are supposed to be planned, actual outings, not just random breaks taken from work.

Besides, you don't know how to ice skate.

Well, it's not like you can get out of it now. If you try to stop this from happening it will be worse. Youngjae is so adorable, you don't want him to think you aren't interested.

Surely, ice skating can't be that complicated. You see kids on that rink every day...

“I knew about it,” you hush, trying to find something to initiate conversation.

Startled, he looks up. “Uh?”

“The whole Maple Goddess thing.”

“Oh,” Youngjae forces a chuckle, clenching his teeth, “Jackson comes up with weird stuff all the time… Sorry...” Never has a lie been more obvious. You meant his crush too, but he doesn't seem to want to hear that. To hide your growing smile, you bring your hands to your mouth, blowing air to warm them up. Unfortunately, you let your gloves at the booth.

“You don't have to do this, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to trick you into hanging out with me. I didn't even know what Jac–”

“It's fine,” you interrupt, “I was actually about to give up and ask you out myself.”

“You... What?” His mouth is open in astonishment.

Ok. This is the perfect set up for a confession. There's snow falling, you're all alone… You should probably just get it out in the open.

“I hear about you and… I like you too.”

“You like me,” Youngjae repeats doubtfully.

“Yes.” Butterflies. Butterflies everywhere. Grabbing the dreaded skates, you turn to face the rink, grinning. “So, are we gonna do this or what?"

Amused beyond logic, you laugh, leaving him hanging to go sit on a nearby bench. You try to control your nerves, slipping out of your Uggs to tightly lace the rental skates. Ice can't be much different from concrete, you've rollerbladed before. Dead silent, Youngjae comes to sit next to you, putting on ice skates himself. His are black and red, evidently personal ones, way fancier. You've never seen him on the rink before, but one probably needs to know how to ice skate to be hired at that booth. It makes sense. Done, you wait for him to finish.

Well, that's painfully awkward. You should be talking. People talk on dates. Is this a date?

Suddenly, Youngjae stands up, sliding on the ice with no effort whatsoever. He's gracious, grinning at you from ear to ear. He seemed to have processed your little confession now, at least. His feet form a V shape, making him swirl in a large circle before he stops back in front of the bench. In a messed up way, you kind of wished him to be as clumsy at this as everything else.

Evidently, he's waiting for you to get up and do some twirls of your own, a grandiose arabesque perhaps, impressive, breathtaking. Oh God, the longer he's anticipating this the worse is. Come on, here goes nothing. You can do this. Ice skating can't be that complicated. Finally standing up, you pray for some sort of miracle. You take a weird step forward on the ice. Unfortunately, your stance is so wobbly you very nearly fall on your ass, arms flying in rotation to regain balance. At the last second, Youngjae catches your forearms, saving your ass (literally). His hands wrap around your elbow holding you up steady on the slippery ice. It's the first time he has touched you and even though it's through layers of clothing, butterflies soar once more.

You look so stupid. Breaking your neck won't charm cute rental-guy. You’ll just humiliate yourself.

“You can't skate.” Youngjae states this simple fact and your entire face burns of shame. You try to pull away, to step back on the much safer and stable snow, but he holds on. Probably because he fears you're falling again.

“I can skate,” you lie, vexed, “I just haven't done this… In a while.” More like ever.

“Have fun?” Youngjae's smile widens inhumanly at his joke, lips curling upwards to expose the entirety of his dentition.

"If you call breaking a leg fun, you're a weird guy.”

You don't even notice when you start to glide, too busy smiling back. "That's okay, I got you.” Youngjae is easily skating backwards pulling you with him. “But just to be clear… You agreed to this even though you couldn't skate?”

“I couldn't refuse, you never invited me to do anything before… And I can skate,” you repeat. Just not on ice.

“So you accepted Jackson's invitation… To be with me?”

You aren't sure what he finds so hard to grasp. “Yes,” you breathe out, embarrassed, “but now I might die for it.” Your eyes dart down when Youngjae expertly crosses his blades, he's got some very impressive moves. “Showoff.”

He laughs and instantly you feel a whole lot better. “I won't let you die on my watch!” Well, the relief was short. You yelp when he releases your arms, disappearing in your back.

“H-Hey!” Precarious, you straighten and lose your balance but this time Youngjae grabs your waist, holding you up.

Wow. If you didn't risk severe head injury otherwise, you might believe he has game. But that's impossible, rental-guy spent a whole month openly pinning over you without even making a move. Plus the only reason you're in this mess is because Jackson and Emma ganged-up on you.

“I got you now, I won't let you fall. I'll teach you.” Youngjae's voice rings above your shoulder.

Though he sounds serious about the task ahead, you can't help your chills at his breath on your ear. Unfortunately for him, his close proximity is highly distracting. He's pressed against your back and you mentally curse the thickness your damn winter coat. You wish you could actually feel him, but that may be too much for a first non-date.

“Bend your knees,” he whispers in concentration, “more, more, there. Lean forward.” Biting your lower lip, you try to push aside the other images his commands summon. What is wrong with you? The man seems oblivious to his effect, intended on helping you learn. When Youngjae is fully satisfied, you're in a weird semi-sitting position. “There, you need to keep your center of gravity low to avoid falling.”

You must look absolutely ridiculous but this is strangely romantic. Something tells you Emma is filming the whole scene from the stall, although you forget everything about that when he presses closer.

“Now you just… Glide...” As you obey once more, Youngjae's hands slide down on your hips. “Again, push to the side, like me. You want the blade to bite the ice...”

Screw that. It may come as a total surprise, but the man has game. Enjoying every second of this – probably a bit too much – you begin to gain momentum with his help. He's still holding you tightly when you complete your second full circle around the rink. Even though you're vacillating and your steps lack finesse, you'd say you are doing a pretty good job. You're skating, on ice, alone with cute rental-guy. Smiling in joy, you bend a bit lower to accelerate. After a while, Youngjae's hands desert you altogether, and you would protest but he quickly reappears in front of you. Skating backwards, he barely needs to look over his shoulder to know where he is going. It's like its a second nature to him, something you find strangely attractive. As if aware of this, he maintains eye contact for far too long, you feel the tip of your ears burn and not from the cold. His brown hair is flying around his face, strands whipping the wind. For some reason the sight makes you light, you're flying around above the Christmas Market with the cotton-like snow.

Fine, maybe not all dates need to be official to be meaningful.

“I told you I could skate,” your bold claim makes him snort in disbelief.

“You might need to practice more often.”

“How about…” You pause, holding a breath, “We make this a daily thing?”

“Sure,” Youngjae offers a hand and you take it, electrified by the touch, “I’ll trade you lessons for free maple choco.”

Your heart race at the thought of doing something like this with him every day. Humming, you fake to consider his offer for a second; “Deal!”

“It's a date then!” Laughing, you keep skating, staring at each other like you're alone in the world.

Unfortunately, you forget you truly aren't and he does too. Youngjae is totally spooked when someone hollers at him aggressively, a young teen is standing in front of the rental booth for service waving both arms. Apparently, break is over.

Twisting his skates without warning, Youngjae comes to an abrupt stop in front of you, forgetting one major detail.

You hit him at full speed, albeit not very fast, but it still manages to sweep him off his feet. With a loud huff, air exhales his lungs when he hits the ice and you land on top of him. Mouth ajar, you gape, meeting his soft chestnut irides. You're too flustered to say anything and he's not doing much better than you. That's not exactly how you envisioned ever climbing him up.

Your faces are so close you can see every single one of his eyelashes, his cute pinkened nose, his beauty mark. Your eyes keep exploring his features, dipping low to his dark pout, full and inviting. You want to kiss him. Snow keeps falling, swirling in the chilly air around. You haven't chosen between pulling away or going for it when Youngjae's hand finds your nape. Slowly, he closes the gap between you, lips brushing yours delicately. Adding pressure, you kiss him back.

You knew it. The man has game.

There's no mistletoe, no fairy lights flickering, but your first kiss is fireworks. The moment is enchanting, infinite, as you both lay on the ice like one. Maybe that's the famous magic of The White Miracle Market you've heard so much about. You forget about the outside world, space, time. There's nothing but you two and the snow.

When you pull back to breathe, Youngjae is smiling softly. “Tomorrow,” he whispers, so low you can barely hear, “I'm teaching you the snowplow stop.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, winded, “that might be useful.”

GOT7 | M.list

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

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thecassadilla · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Moment

Word Count: 1,866/AO3

Pairing: New Dream/Rapunzel x Eugene

Summary: Eugene tries to find the perfect moment to propose to Rapunzel.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Day 5 of New Dream Appreciation Week - Proposal! I’d just like to reiterate that I, idiotically, have not watched seasons 2 and 3 of Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure (well, I watched one random episode at 3 in the morning, but that’s a different story for a different day). While I know there were multiple proposals and rings from both Eugene and Rapunzel, I actually haven’t seen any of them, unfortunately. So, in true “me” fashion, this is a Modern!AU that I pulled out of thin air. Seriously, I don’t know how I managed to come up with this - I’ve never been proposed to, and all of my friends have gotten engaged in Disney World. Definitely not my area of expertise lol. I hope you enjoy it!

If you asked him directly, Eugene would’ve denied being a planner. He lived his life on the edge, doing things on a whim. Spontaneity. Until he met Rapunzel - then he subconsciously became a planner. Although outwardly, he tried to play it cool and pretend like he was too focused on living in the moment to care about the future, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It only became evident to him when he purchased an engagement ring for Rapunzel and carried it around for months, unsure of when and how to propose to her.

Like the night they went to dinner and she looked so beautiful. He wanted to pull the ring out of his pocket and propose right there, but then there was a fire in the kitchen and they all evacuated, so they ended up getting fast food and calling it a night. So, he scrapped his plans and decided it would be best to wait for a better opportunity.

There was the weekend they went to New York City where he thought about proposing a thousand times. Like inside the Museum of Modern Art; the vibes weren’t right, though, and that plan quickly went out the window. He thought about doing it at the ice skating rink at Bryant Park, but then someone injured themselves while skating and he knew he would’ve felt guilty for taking away the attention from someone who’d just been hurt. He very seriously thought about doing it in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center, and just as he was about to pull out the ring and get down on one knee, a couple less than ten feet away from them got engaged. Forget Times Square, that place was filled with couples getting engaged. And then just like that, the weekend was gone and so was the opportunity to propose in New York.

He thought about doing it on New Years Eve, surrounded by their friends and family at a party, and instead, he found himself in a fog.

“Hey,” Rapunzel said, shaking his arm slightly.

He shook his head in an attempt to come out of his trance. “Huh?”

“Are you alright?” She asked, a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was deep in thought.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Just checking.”

And thus, another opportunity fizzled before his eyes. He was immensely grateful that Rapunzel appeared to be none the wiser to his plans, failed or otherwise. The thought was on his mind constantly, but he had a long list of everything that it had to be: perfect, for starters. Unique. Unforgettable. Extraordinary. And daily life just wasn’t like that; it was ordinary and mundane. They went to work and ran their errands, and that was that.

He was certain that he was going to do it on Valentine’s Day. He had the entire evening planned out; they were going to go to see a show at the theatre, and then to a fancy restaurant and he was going to do it - no more inhibitions. Until he got stuck late at work.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sunshine,” he said into the phone, trying his best to keep his voice from cracking.

“Hi, baby!” She exclaimed. “Sorry, I’ve got my hands full and I couldn’t see who was calling. But I’m so excited for tonight.”

“Yeah, about that…” he started, but trailed off.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“I’m stuck working late,” he sighed. “I’m really sorry, I know you were looking forward to tonight.”

“Oh,” she said, the slightest hint of disappointment in her voice for a split second. “Well we can always reschedule! It’s just a day, after all.”

She was ever the optimist, wasn’t she? If only he felt the same way. He wasn’t bitter, but it was yet another wrench in his plans. And this one wasn’t for lack of trying, or because someone else stole the moment, either. It was just sheer bad luck.

So he sat on it for a long, long time. There were no more special days, no more special trips. Time was passing quickly, and it was starting to bother him more and more, and eventually it became noticeable.

“Is everything okay, Eugene?” She asked while they were sitting at the dinner table one night.

He looked up. “Of course.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Something isn’t right,” she said, placing her hand on top of his. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Is something bothering you?”

“No, everything’s fine,” he lied. “Things have just been rough at work. You know how it is.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

He didn’t answer. And he hated himself for that. He hated himself for lying to her, and he hated himself for not doing it right then and there. But the most perfect woman in the world was sitting right in front of him, and she deserved nothing less than perfection.

He decided that he’d have to work harder to disguise his feelings. And more time passed. He thought about doing it when they went to the park at sunset, but they were being eaten alive by mosquitoes and had to leave before he could even think about doing anything. He thought about doing it the night they sat outside and stargazed, until their neighbors came outside and ruined the moment. He contemplated doing it on her birthday, but that plan fell to pieces when he realized that she should have her birthday to herself; getting engaged should be a separate day to celebrate. He thought about doing it when they were laying in bed one night; she was reading a book and just as he was about to clear his throat, she leaned in to kiss him goodnight and turned off her lamp. And the moment had escaped yet again.

And that brought them to mid-July. He’d been carrying around the ring for eight months, letting it sit in its box instead of on her finger, where it belonged. The beach, the pier, the mountain they hiked, and the drive down the coast became other missed opportunities along the way.

When he woke up that morning, he wasn’t surprised to see that she was already gone. It wasn’t unusual for her to get up early on a Saturday to run her errands. He laid in bed for a while, brooding and muttering to himself before he got up and decided to go on a long drive to clear his head. It didn’t help, of course. He wasn’t only wasting time, but also gas. He felt totally incompetent; the ring was burning a hole in his pocket and he felt like he wasn’t being honest with Rapunzel.

He returned home in the early afternoon, feeling no better than he did before he left. He took a deep breath as he pushed his key into the lock, unsure what he would do if Rapunzel noticed his sullen expression - it was more a matter of when than if, at this point, though.

The living room was covered in a large tarp, an easel and blank canvas in the center of the room. The coffee table was pushed into the kitchen and a bouquet of sunflowers wrapped in brown paper were resting on the counter. Every blind and curtain was open, so the entire room was illuminated with natural light.

“Hey!” Rapunzel called, emerging from the hallway with a stool in her hands. “I wasn’t sure when you were coming back, so I turned the living room into a studio. I hope you don’t mind.”

He was immediately taken aback by her appearance. She was wearing denim overall shorts, with a white floral off-the-shoulder top underneath. She had a light blue headband in her hair, a small knot sitting perfectly in the center. She placed the stool next to the easel and put her hands on her hips. She looked so happy, and completely at ease with the world.

“No,” he shook his head, dumbfounded. “I don’t mind at all.”

“I figured you wouldn’t,” she giggled. “Oh, and guess what!”

“What?”

“I went to the market today and they said the sunflowers bloomed two weeks early! Isn’t that just incredible?” She gushed.

“Yeah, that is something,” he said, his voice low.

“The only thing is, I can’t remember where I put the vase. I’d like to get them in some water, but I don’t know where it is,” she said, bringing her fingers up to her face.

He tried to think but his brain wasn’t working.

“Ooh!” She exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands together. “I remember what I did with it!”

She raced down the hallway, and he heard the closet door open. A minute later she was back with the vase in his hand, and he realized that he never moved from the entryway to their apartment. He was standing there, shoes on and keys in hand, frozen.

“I found it! I was keeping all of my sewing stuff in it temporarily,” she explained, bringing the empty vase into the kitchen. She navigated around the coffee table that was taking up most of the room, and he heard the tap turn on, followed by the sound of paper being torn away. A few seconds passed and she came out, holding the vase full of sunflowers in her hands. She was smiling brightly when she said “See! Look at how nice that looks.”

She went back into the living room and placed the vase on the stool. And then he decided it was now or never.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice practically a whisper.

“What was that?” She asked, her back facing him.

He dropped his keys on the floor, startling her, and then charged in her direction. She turned to face him and he repeated himself.

“Marry me,” he said, breathlessly.

Several looks crossed her face - confusion, shock, delight. “I-uh, w-what?” She stuttered.

And so he pulled the ring box out of his pocket, got down on one knee, and opened it. Both of her hands flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened as she watched his every move.

“Rapunzel, you’re my best friend. I love everything about you - your kindness, your ability to see the world in a positive light, your creativity and your sassiness. You inspire me to be a better man each and every day. I love going on adventures with you and I want all of our adventures to be together. I know you're the only one I want to share the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She nodded, tears pooling in her eyes and offered him her shaky left hand.

He slid the ring onto her finger and stood up, and immediately she was in his arms.

“I can’t believe this,” she blubbered, when she finally pulled away. “How long have you been planning this?”

“A long time,” he admitted, sheepishly. “I’ve had the ring for about eight months, and I kept trying to find the perfect moment, but it wasn’t easy.”

“Nothing could be more perfect than this,” she promised, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

#new dream appreciation week #tangled #rapunzels tangled adventure #rapunzel x eugene #new dream #day five #my writing

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thebluenoteblog · 4 years

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Just Between Us

Summary: You knew when you met Artturi that he was to young for you. Still, that didn’t stop you from falling for him.

Player: Artturi Lehkonen

Word Count: 1.9k

Requested: Hello! could do a imagine with Artturi Lehkonen where he falls in love with an older woman, but she is afraid that everyone can criticize her and offers him to have a secret relationship and he accepts even reluctantly wanting everyone to know about the courtship between both. I love your writing! 💕

You met Artturi in a club. The music was loud and you were both a little tipsy and probably not making the best decisions. You could tell just by looking at him, his clothes, the way he carried himself that he was younger than you. However, it was late at night and the atmosphere had you feeling some kind of way. He was cute. So, when he asked you to dance… you said yes.

You ended up in the back of an Uber before the club had closed down, abandoning your group of friends. You arrived back at your house and there was very little conversation. The words exchanged between the two of you would not be classified as small talk.

The next morning, you didn’t wake up until eleven and you were sporting a hangover and a collection of hickeys all over your body. You supposed you deserved that for hooking up with someone so much younger than you. You also deserved to wake up alone, because that’s what happened when you hooked up with attractive guys who were noticeably younger than you.

You took popped a few pain killers to help with the hangover and went about getting ready for the day. It wasn’t until after you’d done your makeup and dried your hair that you walked out of your bathroom and noticed something written on a sticky note on the bedside table opposite of where you’d woken up.

You picked it up and read it over a few times, laughing a little as you did. I had a great time with you last night. At the club. Not the sex. That was good too. I’ll stop, just text me.

Underneath the messy handwriting was a phone number. You almost threw the sticky note away. You didn’t need to be getting involved with a younger guy. That was the last thing you needed, actually. However, some nagging feeling in the back of your head stopped you. Maybe it was the amazing sex. Maybe it was the way he’d made you laugh in the club. You didn’t know. Whatever it was, you placed the note back on the end table and went about your day, the boy from the club rarely leaving your mind.

****

It wasn’t until the next day that you finally broke and entered his number into your phone. It was a day after that when you texted him for the first time. You didn’t know what exactly to say so you tried a few different things. Hey, it’s the girl from the other night. No. Hey, remember leaving me your number a few days ago? No. Hey, if you’re up for it, we could check out another club this weekend. That was probably the best it was going to get.

You pressed send and waited for a response. You waited for a long time. Eventually he did respond, I’m going to be out of town for work until Wednesday. How about when I get back we go out for dinner instead?

You paused when you read this. He couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five and that was just a guess. What job did he have where he was traveling out of town for a week at a time? Better question, why did he want to take you to dinner. You were thirty. At least five years older than him.

However, there was that nagging feeling again, and you couldn’t turn him down. Yeah, that sounds nice. Just let me know when.

You texted back and forth with him for a few more hours that night before you finally fell asleep, phone still in your hand waiting for his next response.

****

He texted you the name of the restaurant, the time he would pick you up and then followed it with a second message that read, wear something nice. You stared at your phone, confused. Then decided to google the restaurant.

It was a very nice restaurant. Too nice.

You texted him back, I can’t let you spend that kind of money.

He responded quickly with, It’s nothing. Be ready at six.

Insane. But you did as he asked, wearing a dress and a pair of heels from the back of your closet. When he picked you up, he actually came to your door which you hadn’t expected. He opened the car door for you. A very nice car. You were seriously beginning to wonder if you’d just agreed to go on a date with a drug dealer or someone with connections to some powerful crime family.

You didn’t figure out who he was until you were at dinner and the waiter addressed him by his name after taking his drink order, “I’ll have that right out for you Mr. Lehkonen.”

You’d turned from watching the waiter disappear around the corner to stare at Artturi. “Okay, what’s going on? Do you like own this place or something?”

He laughed, “No.”

“Then how did the waiter know your name?” You asked.

Artturi shrugged, “He must be a hockey fan. The boys and I come here a lot. We tip well. The servers tend to like us.”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, then slowly the pieces clicked together. A foreign guy in his mid-twenties with a shit ton of money to burn living in Canada who travels a lot for his job. You suddenly realized where you’d heard his name before. “You’re a hockey player?” You asked hesitantly, dumbfounded.

He nodded slowly, “You didn’t know that?” He asked, “Most people around here know.”

“I’m not big on sports,” you said, “I don’t dislike them… I just don’t have the attention span to follow a team for an entire season.”

He frowned, nodding again. “Maybe you could come to a game sometime. You might like it. It’s different, being there I mean.”

You smiled at him, “I would like that.”

****

You went on four more dates over the course of five more weeks before he brought up you going to a game again. He mentioned it casually while you were waiting in line for movie tickets. “There’s a game tomorrow night. It’ll be a good one. I could get you tickets if you want to come.”

You stared at Artturi, surprised for a moment. Then slowly nodded, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

He smiled at you, “The game starts at seven, but you should get there early for warm-ups.”

Again, you nodded.

When he dropped you off that night, you didn’t want him to leave. So, when he walked you to the door, you invited him inside for a drink. You never made it to the alcohol.

****

They won. They won and much to your surprise, you had enjoyed the game. He’d skated over to you a few times during warm ups to show off what he could do with the puck and you’d laughed at how proud he looked.

After the game, you left. Heading home with a smile on your face. You got a text not long after from Artturi, where are you?

Home.

The dots appeared and disappeared a few times before a message finally came through, why didn’t you come down? That’s what the pass was for. I wanted the guys to meet you.

You frowned, staring at the message for a long moment and contemplating a response. Were you letting this go to far? You couldn’t actually start a relationship with Artturi. You’d learned since you started seeing each other that he was only twenty-four. A year younger than you had originally guessed. Not only was it unrealistic to date someone that much younger than yourself at your age, but he was under the constant watchful eye of the media.

You didn’t need all of the hockey world judging you for robbing the cradle.

I don’t think that would be a good idea.

He responded quickly with, why not?

What if it gets out that you’re seeing a 30-year-old woman? I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

Again, he spent a very long time typing the message before it came through. Finally, when it did, all he’d said was, I’m coming over.

****

You opened your door and he waited for you to motion him inside before walking around you and into the house. “Why does it matter?”

You closed the door behind him, “Why does what matter?”

“If people find out that we’re seeing each other,” he stated, clearly annoyed. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters because I don’t want that kind of negative attention, Artturi,” you said, “and as much as you make it sound like you don’t care I know you would.”

He shook his head, a sigh falling from his lips. He didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to stop seeing you. He hadn’t had as much fun with a woman as he had with you in the past month as far back as he could remember. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend tonight, and now you’re telling me that you don’t want to see me anymore.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected that. You hadn’t expected him to want to commit to you. Now that the option was on the table, that same nagging thought was in the back of your head that had stopped you from throwing away his phone number all those weeks ago. You didn’t want to walk away from it. You didn’t want to walk away from him. “It isn’t that I don’t want to see you,” you said. “It’s just that I don’t want people judging us for it. I don’t want people to know.”

He frowned, “What are you saying?”

“What if we just kept it a secret?” You said, “Just the two of us. At least for now.”

He stared at you, contemplating his answer. It was an easy one, really. He knew that he wanted to be with you. He knew that he didn’t want to walk out that door in a few minutes knowing that he’d just walked away from an opportunity to be with you. Though a part of him was hoping that if he hesitated long enough, you would decide that you would date him like a normal person. You wouldn’t make him sneak around behind his friends backs and hide everything from the media.

He didn’t think you realized that this would mean you couldn’t keep going out in public together all the time. You couldn’t go out multiple nights a week like normal couples did. Not with the media nosing around in his life. Not if you wanted the secret to remain a secret.

You weren’t changing your mind. You were holding his stare, waiting for an answer.

Finally, when he decided that you weren’t going to budge on this, he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a kiss. When he pulled away he looked down at you and said, “If you want to be my girlfriend in secret, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You smiled up at him and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest. Over the top of your head, he stared at the moonlight shining in through the window and frowned.

#artturi lehkonen #artturi lehkonen imagine #artturi lehkonen imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagines

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fancat-not-fangirl · 4 years

Text

It’s Not You Pt.16

a/n: hi everyone! I’m so so so sorry that this took so long. I was super busy and barely had any time to write, but I made this chapter extra long to make up for that. (I was actually going to make it even longer than it is now, but I decided that it would just be too much.) Thank you to those who read and review, I love y’all more than I can say <3. So sorry again for the long wait. Enjoy :D

**********

Cas’s dreams were plagued by his argument with Dean. By the moment his record hit the ground and broke into pieces. By the name ‘Mary Winchester’ and the file. By the words that were written on the pieces of paper that all pointed at Claire Novak as the only culprit that could have committed the crime.

The crime being the death of Dean’s mother, as well as the destruction of a happy childhood for Sam and Dean.

At first Cas hadn’t believed it. Not even a bit. But by the tenth or eleventh time he had called his mother and received no answer, by the twentieth or thirtieth time he had read the file, he had become less and less willing to believe that it had all been a mistake.

The file said it all. How Claire had mixed up the meds. How Claire had gotten fired. How Claire had killed Mary.

And so the night before Christmas, Cas went to sleep without any hope left for himself that everything would be alright.

The morning didn’t help.

Not that Cas woke up in the morning. No, he slept through the early hours of the day, only opening his eyes somewhere around 12:30. Even then, he stayed in bed and stared at anywhere that wouldn’t remind him of Dean. But that was easier said than done.

The walls that were covered in pictures of Cas and his family in various different countries had been joined with ones of him and Dean. Ice skating. Making snowmen. Cuddling on the couch. Cas tried not to let his gaze be drawn to those.

Cas’s dresser also offered unwanted memories. More specifically, the Lord of the Rings LEGO sets on it. Unbidden, Cas remembered the sparkle in Dean’s eyes as he had looked at the sets. He remembered their conversation in the car, where Dean had sadly admitted to Cas that he had never had his own LEGO set, but how he’d always wanted one that was big and expensive and intricate. Cas remembered the feeling of wanting to do anything and everything in the world to help Dean.

Cas remembered too much. The laughter, the smiles, the conversations. Everywhere he looked, there they were. Painful and sharp and Cas wanted them to stop.

He closed his eyes.

Sleep didn’t come, but Cas didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want to start his day, or walk through the silent house, or spend the day trying to pretend that everything was alright. Which it wasn’t. Not at all.

But soon the hunger in Cas’s stomach drove him out. He had tried to keep it down, but the pains were too much for him. Cas didn’t bother changing or looking in the mirror. He already knew that he’d have red rimmed eyes and that bags would have formed under them. He didn’t need a mirror to tell him that.

Stumbling downstairs and into the kitchen, Cas put two pieces of bread into the toaster and drew out a jar of peanut butter and one of jelly from the fridge. He sat down at the empty table and waited. The wall against the memories Cas was building in his mind went crashing down as he stared at the table. At the spot that Dean usually sat. Could it have been that a mere day ago, he and Dean had shared dinner here, laughing and joking around? And had Cas only imagined that Dean had woken up early in the morning to make Cas breakfast, and had burned the blueberry muffins so bad that it took them hours to clear out the burnt smell and clean the kitchen from the multiple layers of flour that had coated it?

The toast jumped out of the toaster, jerking Cas out of his thoughts. Heaving himself out of his chair, Cas strode over and took the pieces of bread out, all the while shoving the memories back down and starting to work on that wall again. This time he wouldn’t let it break.

Cas finished breakfast in record time. This time, there was nobody to chat with. To joke with. To laugh with. He was alone.

He did the dishes alone, too. No music this time. Music was only for when he had someone to dance with. To sway and bump his hips with. Someone like De-

No.

Cas made sure the wall in his head grew stronger.

He stood in the empty kitchen for a moment. The memories were pushing against him but he held fast. Cas needed a distraction.

Striding into the living room, Cas dropped onto the couch and firmly decided that he would watch a movie. He didn’t let his mind wander to a time where Dean had sat on this very spot and critiqued Cas as the freshman had hung ornaments on the tree. He didn’t think about how then they had switched spots and Cas had fallen asleep watching Dean’s lulling movements. And Cas definitely didn’t let himself think about how afterwards, they had napped on the couch together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

No.

Definitely not.

The wall stayed firmly in place and Cas added reinforcements to it. He couldn’t let it break.

Hands shaking, Cas gripped the remote and turned on Netflix. He needed a movie. Any movie, really.

But today was just not Cas’s day. The first movie on his List was The Mask of Zorro. The one after that was the Princess Bride. Cas felt the wall in his head cracking and he quickly shut off the tv. He didn’t need those memories. Memories of him and Dean snuggled in blankets in Cas’s dorm. Memories of them falling asleep together afterwards. And especially not the memory of the first time Cas had thought to himself that he wanted to be with Dean for the rest of his life.

Cas rose from the couch and almost sprinted out of the room. The ornaments on the tree were smiling at him with their bright light but Cas felt no urge to smile back.

It was then that he passed the door to the basement, which was still open. Cas realized that the files had to be cleaned up by the time his mother got home the next day. The day after Christmas.

What a lousy Christmas Cas was having.

He steeled himself and trudged down the stairs, wincing at the creaking noises. They split the silence in the air like knives. Not unlike the way the record sounded as it-

No.

The wall grew higher in his mind.

Cas reached the bottom of the stairs and groaned inwardly at the sight of the countless files strewn all over the floor. This would certainly take up most of his day. In fact, he hoped it would take up most of his day. It would give Cas a chance to avoid the thoughts howling and screaming at him.

Sinking to his knees, Cas started with the grueling work. Picking up a file, checking the name, and putting it into its corresponding location. Picking up a file, checking the name, putting it into its place. Pick up, check, put away. Pick, check, put. Over and over and over.

It really, really wasn’t Cas’s day. No surprise there. Because Cas was finished within the hour.

He contemplated sitting on the beat up couch against the wall but immediately discarded the idea at the sight of the photo albums still lying open on it.

Sighing, Cas decided that he’d go back to bed. There was no use doing anything else.

He started up the stairs when something caught his eye. Something red and bright that was covered for the most part in boxes shoved under the stairs. Cas’s heart twisted as he turned around and crept over to it, moving the boxes aside. Staring back at him were the presents he had bought and wrapped for Dean. The ones he spent hours picking out so that Dean could have the perfect Christmas.

Only that Christmas was now ruined.

The sad twinge in Cas’s gut turned to anger. This was Dean’s fault. If he hadn’t knocked over the files, none of this would have happened. If he had just waited until Claire got home and explained that it had been a mistake, everything would have been fine. A voice whispered to Cas from the darkest parts of his mind that there hadn’t been a mistake. That Claire had killed Mary. And then Cas’s anger turned on his mother. Why hadn’t she said anything about this before? She had known Dean’s last name. Hell, she had lived with a son who had it printed on his wrist. And yet she had said nothing.

Cas should throw them away. The presents. It’s not as if Dean was coming back. And it’s not as if he dared keep them for himself. They would only widen the cracks in his wall further.

That was the last thing Cas needed.

Letting out a soft noise that was almost like a growl, Cas reached for the wrapped packages, ready to rip them apart and get them as far away from him as possible. But then he froze.

He was hearing things. He had to be. But he could have sworn he heard-

There it was again.

Knocking.

But who-

Cas hastily turned away from the boxes and flew up the stairs. His heart was singing Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, but the rest of him was snarling the name. How dare he come back? After everything that he had said to Cas? After everything he had done to him? Cas couldn’t forgive that.

He wrenched the front door open just as the meticulously built and enforced wall in his head started to crumble.

All of the thoughts that were circling above Cas like vultures promptly vanished, leaving him staring dumbly at the person standing in front of him.

Dean looked more nervous than Cas had ever seen. More nervous than the day that it was Claire opening the door to him instead of Cas. More nervous than the first time Dean and Cas had met. More nervous than when Dean made his first steps on the ice rink.

Cas took in Dean’s appearance, from the unkempt hair, to the slightly red rimmed eyes, to the bit lip, to the sweater that Claire had knit for him, to the bags at Dean’s sides. Cas’s tongue was caught in his mouth and he stood there, frozen.

“Hey.”

Cas barely heard Dean, but it was enough to shake him out of his trance. “What are you doing here?” Cas’s voice was harsher than he had meant it to be and he saw Dean flinch at the words that flew out of his mouth. Thoughts of an apology swirled around in Cas’s head, but he resisted their pull. He was not apologizing to Dean. Not after what Dean did.

He saw Dean shift from one foot to the other and the fingers tightened around the straps of the bags. Dean cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk. To you. If that’s ok?”

“No. It’s not ok. You can leave now,” Cas hissed and stepped back, closing the door in Dean’s face.

Before it could slam shut, though, he felt Dean’s hand pushing against it as Dean tried to keep it open. Dean’s voice turned desperate. “Cas, wait! Please! This is important! It’s about your m-”

Cas ripped the door open, making Dean stumble a bit, and cut him off. “You wanted to talk about my mom? Didn’t we already do that yesterday? Oh, wait, it wasn’t really talking. More like screaming while you accused her of murder,” Cas growled out. He saw Dean shrink in on himself. “And I’m so sorry if I don’t want to repeat that again.”

He moved to try to close the door again but was stopped by Dean for a second time. The look in Dean’s eyes broke Cas’s heart. “Please, Cas. If you don’t like what I have to say you can kick me out. I’ll leave right away. I promise. Just please, please let me talk to you.”

They stared at each other, the silence stretching between them like infinity. Finally, Cas huffed a breath and turned on his heel, marching away from the door (away from Dean) and towards the kitchen, leaving Dean to enter and close the door behind him. Dean came into the room without the bags, which he must have left in the hallway. That was just as well; Cas didn’t want to know what was in them. He didn’t care. Or so he tried to convince himself.

“Sit.”

Dean hesitated for a moment before dropping down into his usual seat at the table. Cas noticed that Dean was fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. Cas tried to refrain from doing the same.

“Well?” Cas spoke after a while of tense silence. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

Dean took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Hair that wasn’t quite blonde, but not brown. Cas had always thought that it looked like a mixture of honey and almonds. And when the sun hit it, the colors turned to-

No.

Cas stopped himself. He wasn’t here to admire Dean’s hair. He was here to listen to what Dean had to say and then kick him out. Simple as that.

“I drove to my dad’s yesterday,” Dean started. Cas felt his eyes widen. Dean’s father lived hours away. He must have gotten there at around one in the morning. But why would Dean go there? He and his father barely ever spoke, and from what Cas had learned about John Winchester in the past months, it was that family reunions were never his thing. “I don’t honestly know why I went. I only realized I was headed there when I was nearing his place.”

Oh.

“I asked him if he knew Claire,” Cas sucked in a sharp breath but Dean continued. “And if she was connected to my mom’s death. He said yes. To both questions.”

Cas’s heart sank lower and lower under he felt it shatter into pieces. So it was true. His mother had killed Mary. He had the evidence. The files. And now the confirmation from Dean’s father. Everything Dean had said had been true. Claire was a murderer.

Dean must have seen the relinquished look on Cas’s face because he quickly reached across the table and grabbed Cas’s hand to reassure him, but Cas pulled his hand out of Dean’s grip. A brief look of hurt crossed Dean’s face before he withdrew his hand and started fiddling with his sleeve once more.

“Is that it?” Cas growled. “You wanted to come here to tell me that you were right? To gloat?”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “No! No, that’s not it. That’s not even close to-”

“Because if that’s what this is about, then you can leave right now.”

“I’m not done, Cas, I promise. Just hear me out, okay?”

Cas hesitated but nodded tersely.

“My dad told me that my mom never got better after the fire. She only got worse.”

What?

“It came to the point that she was only being kept alive by machines. She couldn’t go anywhere, do anything. She was stuck in the hospital. And so were we,” Dean lowered his eyes. “She kept telling my dad that we should leave. Leave her in the hospital and go live our lives. She said that she was holding us back. But my dad wouldn’t listen,” Dean’s voice hitched and the next words came out in a whisper. “So she asked him to kill her.”

Cas’s breath caught in his throat. No. No, this didn’t make any sense. Why would Mary have wanted to die?

“My dad said no at first. But then she became more persistent. She kept asking and asking and asking. She was tired of seeing the same white walls and eating the same food. She thought she was being a burden on us. She said that what she was living wasn’t a life at all. So my dad agreed. Only, he couldn’t get her the drugs. But they knew someone who could.”

Cas’s world was collapsing and all he could do was sit grounded in his chair and listen to the words spilling out of Dean’s mouth.

“Our moms were close. Really close. My dad said that they were more like sisters than friends. So they asked your mom for the drugs. She had refused at first. Obviously. I mean,” Dean’s eyes rose to meet Cas’s. “Who could live with themselves after they had hurt someone they loved.”

The words echoed inside Cas’s head.

“After a while, though, your mom agreed. And so she snuck my dad in one night and they said their goodbyes and gave my mom the drug. Claire took all the blame and was fired because of it. My dad never told us the whole truth because he thought that we were too young to understand why they killed Mom. But I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, right?” Dean smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. He lowered his voice. “Just don’t tell Sammy.”

Dean had obviously expected Cas to nod at that and tell him that no, he wouldn’t tell Sam, but all he got was a blank look. Cas was still processing the information. It was too much. Mary had wanted to die? But was Claire still justified in killing her? Had it been the right thing to do? Why didn't Claire tell Cas? He was old enough to understand. Had she been planning on keeping it a secret forever?

“Cas?” Dean’s voice brought Cas back to reality. “You doing alright?”

Cas snapped. “NO, Dean, I am most certainly NOT doing alright! I’ve just learned that my mother KILLED SOMEONE, and not just any someone, but the mother of the person that I love more than anyone else, and now I have to live with this information inside my head for the rest of my life and I don’t even know what I’m going to tell my mom about it, or even IF I’m going to tell my mom that I know. I mean picture me, the day after Christmas, telling my mom that I know that she killed your mom. How will she react? And Gabe! Oh Jesus Christ, what am I going to tell him? Will I tell him? He deserves to know, right? But what if it ruins him and Sam?” Cas couldn’t help but add, “What if it ruins them like it ruined us?”

“You think it ruined us?” Dean’s voice asked from beside him quietly, and Cas jumped as he realized that during his outburst, Dean had moved around the table and was not mere feet away from Cas, unsure on what to do to comfort him.

“I mean, you hate me,” Cas whispered. “My mom killed yours. You can barely look at me. And after what I said, I don’t know how you can even stand to be in the same room as me.”

Dean looked a little taken aback at that. As if he hadn’t been expecting it. As if that’s not what he thought at all. But Cas knew better. Or did he?

“I don’t hate you.”

Cas froze.

“I could never hate you,” Dean was shaking his head. “I said all those horrible things to you yesterday, but I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean a single thing. You’re probably the best thing that has ever happened to me, Cas. You’re funny, and kind, and amazing, and your hair is so soft, and your smile makes me happy, and when you laugh you scrunch up your nose and you just look so, so cute and I could never, ever hate you.” Dean paused to take a breath. “I love you, angel.”

Cas stared at him, not daring to move a muscle. Not daring to believe.

Dean took the silence as rejection and his face fell as he stepped backwards. Away from the table. Away from Cas.

“I should go,” he whispered.

And then Cas was launching himself out of his chair and at Dean, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. His soulmate. The love of his life. Cas gripped him tight and didn’t let go.

Dean let out a small noise of surprise at the sudden contact but didn’t hesitate before bringing his arms around Cas and burying his head in Cas’s shoulder. One of his hands went around Cas’s waist and the other to the back of Cas’s head as Dean dug his hands into the silky strands of Cas’s hair. Any other time Cas would have complained that Dean was pulling too hard on his hair, but he couldn’t have cared less at the moment. What mattered was that Dean was here and he forgave him and he loved him. Just like Cas loved Dean.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so sorry.”

Dean was mumbling apologies into Cas’s shoulder but Cas shushed him and tightened his arms around him. Dean didn’t stop, though, and kept up the mantra of “I’m sorry”s muffled by the long sleeved shirt Cas had on.

Pulling back, Cas cupped Dean’s face in his hands. “I love you too, you idiot. Now shut up.” And with that, Cas crushed their mouths together.

You might have thought that they had gone years without seeing each other instead of hours. They kissed as if their lives depended on it, as if the world was ending and they had mere seconds to live. They kissed like they were drowning men, clawing for life.

When they finally pulled apart, both were panting. Dean’s face was split into a smile so wide Cas thought his face would crack in two. And if that smile was a feeling, then it was filling Cas up from his head to his toes.

Dean opened his mouth again, no doubt to make another apology, but Cas cut him off before he could say anything.

“Don’t you dare say that you’re sorry again. I forgive you, Dean.”

And Cas was surprised to say that he was telling the truth. Yes, Dean had said some horrible things the previous night, and yes he had broken Cas’s signed vinyl record. But Cas had said some horrible things, too. And, after all, the record was an object, and although it wouldn’t be easy, it still could be replaced. Dean, on the other hand, was a living, breathing person that could never, ever be replaced. Not for Cas.

His thoughts were interrupted when his stomach growled, and Cas realized that he hadn’t eaten anything since the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he’d had hours ago. He was actually famished.

“Sounds like somebody is hungry,” Dean said softly and brushed past Cas and into the hallway, where he came back from seconds later with the bags he was holding earlier. Cas craned his neck and made out the logo of one of their favorite burger places.

Plopping the bags down on the kitchen table, Dean started rifling through them. He took out two wrapped packages, placing one in front of his seat at the table and the other in front of Cas. He then reached in and brought out a box of fries, and then two iced teas. Smiling, Dean then dropped into his own chair and started unwrapping his burger. Cas did the same.

“Oh, Dean…”

Dean had remembered. Even after their fight and after they hadn’t had burgers in weeks, Dean had still remembered. He’d remembered the incredibly specific way that Cas liked his burgers; double bacon with cheese and no pickles.

“What?” Cas looked up to see that Dean had already taken a larger-than-was-probably-healthy bite of his hamburger and had just tried to talk through it. The light from the window was hitting his hair and Cas couldn’t help but think that Dean had never looked better.

He shook his head softly. “Nothing.” Taking the burger in his hands and biting into it, Cas savored the flavors that exploded in his mouth. This Christmas dinner was better than he would have hoped for, even if he did only have breakfast hours ago. Or would that have already been lunch since he had eaten so late? Whatever. It didn’t matter to Cas. Because Dean was here, with him, and Cas couldn’t have been happier.

Both boys jumped when the muffled sounds of one of Bruno Mars’s songs split the air, and Cas immediately recognized it as his ringtone. Wiping his hands on a napkin, he made a quick apologetic glance at Dean before sprinting up the stairs to his room. Turning his phone over, Cas’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the caller.

It was Claire.

Hitting the accept button, Cas brought the phone to his ear, stomach in knots.

“Hey, Cas! I saw all those missed calls that you made. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t talk before, but I’m also really busy now. Is everything ok? If it’s really important I can make time.”

His mother’s voice brought a wave of memories crashing down onto Cas, but he held them back while his mind raced. What should he say? Should he confront her about what she did now, or would it be better to do that in person? But if not that, then what excuse could he make up?

“Hi, mom! Umm, yeah, I did call you a lot but it’s okay that you didn’t pick up. I can ask you about it when you get home tomorrow.”

“Great! I hope you boys are doing fine back there without me.”

Cas resisted the urge to snort. Yeah, they were doing absolutely fine. “Don’t worry about us, mom. We got into a… small fight… but we’re ok now.”

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie.” It sounded as if she was about to say something else, but then Cas heard a muffled noise on the other end of the line and Claire quickly apologized, saying that she had to go.

“It’s ok mom. See you tomorrow. Love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.”

Cas hung up and dropped the phone back onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. He let out a breath and made his way downstairs. Dean was still sitting at the table, already done with his hamburger and he had now moved onto the fries. He looked up as Cas approached and sat down.

“Who was it?” Dean asked, dipping a fry into ketchup before making a show of putting in his mouth and chewing.

Cas couldn’t help but smile at the display. “My mom.”

Dean stopped chewing and his eyes grew serious. “Did you-”

“I didn’t tell her anything. I’d rather do that in person.”

Dean nodded and continued chewing, this time with less vigor. Cas picked up his burger once more, and this time he managed to finish it without any interruptions.

When they were finally done with the food, both boys did the dishes, and Cas couldn’t have been happier when he turned on the music and they stood side by side, swaying and bumping their hips by the sink.

The opening notes of Bruno Mars’s Just the Way You Are started playing when Dean suddenly jumped and his eyes went wide. Cas didn’t even have time to ask him what was wrong before Dean dried his hands on a towel and sped out of the kitchen, calling a quick, “I’ll be right back! Finish up!” to Cas.

Extremely confused, Cas hurried up with the dishes (thankfully there were only a few more), and was drying his own hands when Dean came rushing back into the house. In one hand he held a wrapped box, and in the other, his guitar. Baby 2.0.

Smiling, Dean held out the wrapped box to Cas. “I almost forgot this.”

Cas was about to take it when he remembered his own presents. Now it was his turn to dash out of the room. He raced down the stairs and into the basement. The boxes surrounding the presents were already out of the way, and Cas recalled with a twinge of regret how he had been about to throw them out before Dean came. And thank god that Dean had come.

Grabbing the two wrapped boxes, Cas sprinted back upstairs. On his way to the kitchen, he passed the living room, where he saw Dean sitting on the couch in front of the Christmas tree. Backtracking, Cas slipped onto the couch alongside Dean and grinned at him, holding out his presents. “And I almost forgot these.”

They exchanged gifts. Cas held his present in his hands. It was nicely covered with wrapping paper that was adorned with flying angels. Oh, Dean. Cas quickly glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Dean, who was ripping the first box apart with a childish smile on his face and eyes that twinkled from the light reflecting off the ornaments.

Cas turned back to his own present and slowly tore apart the paper.

He only saw the corner of something black when he was engulfed in a hug from the side. Almost dropping his gift, Cas carefully put it on the coffee table in front of him and returned Dean’s hug, burying his face in Dean’s hair.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Dean sang.

Cas smiled. So Dean liked his presents.

Dean pulled back and grinned at Cas like a madman. In one hand he held the fuzzy socks that Cas had gotten him. They were incredibly soft and comfortable (Cas knew from experience), and Dean had always complained that his feet were cold. The socks had Chevy Impalas on them, something that Cas knew Dean would love. And on Dean’s lap, almost too big to fit there, was a LEGO set. But not just any LEGO set. A Star Wars Death Star set. A twenty-one pound, 4,016 piece, $500 LEGO Death Star.

Dean’s grin made the sun look like it wasn’t shining. He leaned forward and gave Cas a kiss, mumbling a few more “Thank you”s before and after.

“Can we build it together?” Dean asked, not even waiting for an answer before tearing the box open and starting to spill the contents out onto the couch.

Cas rolled his eyes. Of course they would. But first, he had to find out what his own present was.

He picked the wrapped box back up and hooked his fingers under the paper, pulling it back inch by inch. He almost stopped breathing.

There, in a glass case, was a new vinyl record. A new, shining, Bruno Mars vinyl record. And that wasn’t all. Inside the case, lying on top of the record, were two pieces of paper. Or, more specifically, two front row concert tickets to one of his concerts.

Cas looked up and met Dean’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, both beyond glad that they had the other, before Cas leapt forward and their lips collided in a kiss that was so unlike the others. This was one that spoke of forgiveness and love and or never letting go. This one was passionate and harsh and exactly what Cas needed.

Dean was exactly what Cas needed.

And Cas was never, ever going to let him go again.

**********

(another small a/n: A few things in this fic were factually incorrect. Firstly, the Princess Bride is not on Netflix. But for the purposes of this fic it was. Secondly, a lego death star is not that cheap. In reality, it’s more like $800. So don’t go on Amazon thinking you can buy one for the price I put here. You can’t. Sorry.)

#destiel fic #destiel #college au #soulmate au #dean winchester #castiel novak #angst #but a little fluff at the end #sorry this took me so long #whoops #my boys r happy again #it's not you #my fanfic

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azozzoni · 5 years

Note

more lukes pls? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Not sure how I feel about this one, but.

It’s been a week, Lucas thinks, staring down at the drink in his hand. A week since he woke up next to Kes, tangled in the sheets, so close he could feel the rhythm of his breathing. A week since that night he, or maybe Kes, or maybe both of them, closed the distance across the pillow, lips touching, soft and gentle and aching in a way Lucas has never felt before.

It’s been a week, and no one has said anything.

Lucas thought about it, that morning when Kes was wandering around his kitchen looking for coffee, when he came out of his mom’s room to try to get her to eat something and Kes was sitting on the couch flipping through TV channels. He thought about it when Kes’ mom finally called in the afternoon and demanded he come home to help with Sunday dinner.

Maybe he did dream it, he thinks, blinking away from the drink, back to the party. Maybe his subconscious wants so badly for it to be real, it created the moment for him.

He isn’t paying attention to the things going on around him—Jayden unsuccessfully flirting with a girl in the grade above, Isa getting progressively drunk across the room, hanging onto Liv, one of Noah’s hot friends brushing past him to go to the restroom.

Lucas has had one beer too many—not enough to be happily drunk. Just enough to be annoyed at the whole situation. If he didn’t imagine it, why hasn’t Kes said anything? He’s been acting like nothing happened at all, like that brief moment under the cover of darkness didn’t happen, didn’t subtly alter their entire universe. Maybe it hadn’t for Kes, but it had for Lucas.

Part of Lucas knows he shouldn’t bring it up if Kes isn’t going to. That obviously means it was a mistake or an accident or… he has no idea what else it could be.

If Lucas wasn’t tipsy, he might have stopped himself from pushing off the wall, stumbling through the crowd in the direction he last saw Kes disappear. Kes probably went off to make out with some girl, some new girl, the same way Lucas had tried to do at the beginning of the year, but he couldn’t keep it up, didn’t want to.

He finds Kes coming out of the bathroom, walking down the hall with a slight sway—an easy indication he’s had one too many too.

“Hey,” he greets Lucas, smiley and happy, reaching for him as he comes closer, but Lucas pushes Kes instead, up against the wall, hands on his shoulders. “Luc.”

He sounds confused, eyes darting to Lucas’ face, and maybe he isn’t as drunk as he seemed.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Lucas asks, and for a moment, he doesn’t care that they’re exposed in the hallway, where anyone might pass by and wonder what the hell they’re doing, why he has Kes pinned to the wall. He’s not stuck, not really. Kes could get away easily, slip out of Lucas’ grip and walk away. But he doesn’t.

“What?” Kes asks instead, like he doesn’t understand, and for a second, Lucas feels his whole heart drop. Kes doesn’t even remember, maybe doesn’t even know. But there’s something, a flicker in his face that makes Lucas stop, reconsider.

“You didn’t say anything,” he says again because he knows he shouldn’t bring it up. He isn’t sure he wants to know the reason Kes hasn’t talked about it. Would it hurt more to know?

Kes had said he didn’t have to worry that night, said everything would be okay, but it’s not okay. It’s Lucas’ heart pounding in his chest, stomach twisting with anxiety every time he sees Kes at school, wondering if maybe this time, someone’s going to acknowledge it.

“Luc,” Kes says, and it’s that one word, the tone of his voice, like maybe he feels sorry for Lucas, or maybe he is sorry that he did it, that cuts through Lucas.

“No,” Lucas says sharply, pulling his hands away, taking a step back. “Don’t.”

He doesn’t want to hear it if it’s just going to hurt. He would rather Kes had never kissed him at all.

“Wait,” Kes says as Lucas stumbles back another step, tripping over his own feet, but he doesn’t stop.

Down the hall, past his drunken classmates, out the front door of the building and into the chilly night air. Only then does Lucas stop, forcing his lungs to take a deep breath in the crisp autumn night, shivering as he pulls his jacket tighter.

He doesn’t get far, just to the corner before he pulls out the joint stashed in his pocket. He needs something to calm his racing heart before he has to go home and face his mom. She’s back to her usual self now, and she’ll want to know why he’s so late getting home, why Kes isn’t with him like usual.

Taking a long drag, Lucas exhales the smoke into the dimly-lit street, leaning back against a cold, brick building. He should never have asked Kes in the first place. He should have gone on living, quietly suffocating the memory of Kes’ lips against his.

“Can I bum a drag?”

Kes’ voice beside him somehow doesn’t surprise him, and Lucas sniffs, contemplating the joint between his fingers. He wants to say no, that he doesn’t want to talk to Kes right now or smoke with him or pretend that everything is normal between them.

But he doesn’t, handing it over instead and trying not to notice when Kes’ fingers brush against his.

He sees the smoke Kes exhales, rising into the mist and vanishing.

“I wasn’t sure you remembered,” Kes says finally, and Lucas can’t help lifting his head from the sidewalk, the cracks running to the pavement.

“How could I forget?” he mutters.

Kes hesitates, handing back the joint, and Lucas takes it without a word. “I always wondered,” he says finally, “about you. If you were…” He doesn’t finish his sentence and Lucas doesn’t want him to. “And then I started wondering about me.”

He doesn’t give any reasons why he might suspect, if Lucas has done or said something to indicate it. Lucas doesn’t think he has. He never kissed Kes in the dead of night before, never let his fingers skate over Kes’ lips when they lay in bed next to each other. He’s thought about it, but he’s never done it.

Kes has always been a little handsy, a little too close for comfort, but he comes from a big, rowdy family where hugs are the norm and it’s unthinkable that you wouldn’t touch your friends, your family. His life is loud and messy and wild in a completely different way than Lucas’ has ever been.

“You loved Isa,” Lucas says when Kes doesn’t go on, taking another long hit, hoping to calm the waves of anxiety crashing in his stomach. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, to have to come out to Kes like this.

“Yeah,” Kes agreed. “And I love you.”

There’s a pang in Lucas’ chest as he says it, painful, sharp. “Not the same.”

He knows Kes is watching him, but he doesn’t look over, doesn’t want to see the look in his eyes. The pity. The truth.

“Maybe,” Kes says, though, surprising Lucas. “I don’t know. All I know is I wanted to kiss you that night. I wanted to see what it was like.”

Biting his lip, Lucas swallows down the lump in his throat. So he was an experiment.

“Well, now you know,” he says, straightening up. “And we can just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Luc, stop,” Kes says as Lucas starts to turn, grinding what’s left of the joint beneath his toe. He grabs Lucas’ arm, fingers digging into his coat, tugging him back. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

Lucas doesn’t even know what that means, but he doesn’t pull his jacket from Kes’ grip, not yet.

Sighing, Kes takes a step forward. “You’ve always been my best friend, and you’ve always been more than that somehow. I just didn’t know how until last week.”

It’s going to hurt ten times worse if he asks the question, if Kes answers it the way Lucas thinks he will, but Lucas can’t stop himself, eyes scraping over Kes’ face, his deep brown eyes, sparse mustache, unruly curls on his head.

“What do you want from me?”

It’s not exactly coming out but it might as well be, a declaration for at least Kes to hear as they stand there in the relative darkness of the street, the scent of weed lingering on their clothes, the muffled sounds of the party still going on down the street.

“I don’t know,” Kes admits, not letting go of Lucas’ sleeve. “I want us to be friends still, but I also really want to kiss you right now.”

Lucas wonders if this was how it was with Isa and Kes, if there was this same moment where whatever they decided would change everything. It has to be different, he thinks. Isa and Kes are still friends, but would he and Lucas be able to do the same?

“What do you want from me?” Kes asks when Lucas doesn’t reply, not demanding but simply asking, as if he needs to know.

Lucas doesn’t even know what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth, a pause as he stares at Kes. Kes, his best friend since grade school, the guy who stayed with him for three days straight when his dad left, who never hesitates to pull him close for a dance or a hug. He wants so many things that he knows he can’t have.

“Everything,” he says finally, the word spilling from his mouth, loosened by alcohol. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

He doesn’t expect Kes to hug him then, arms tight around his neck, a weight on his chest that isn’t going away. It’s hard to find air with Kes all around him, his scent, his warmth, the solidness of his body.

It’s a minute before Kes pulls away, hands firm on Lucas’ shoulder so he can’t run away.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kes says, “if we even should, but I want to.”

For a moment, the air is silent between them, Lucas attempting to decipher his words, if he should be happy or confused.

Kes moves first this time, hands on the back of Lucas’ neck, keeping him steady as he leans in, gives Lucas plenty of time to rethink, to pull away before he kisses him.

It’s not like the first or even the second, soft lips and warm pressure, butterflies erupting in Lucas’ stomach all over again. He doesn’t stop Kes, knows he could, could put a stop to this whole thing right now, but fuck, he doesn’t want to. He has never wanted to.

“So,” Kes says without moving back, nose pressed to Lucas’ cheek, cold in the night air. He’s waiting for Lucas to say something, to do something.

So, Lucas thinks, watching the way Kes’ dark eyelashes fan over his cheeks. He can feel Kes’ breath on his chin, the tickle of facial hair against his cheek. It would be so easy to give in, pull Kes in closer and let himself melt into his touch.

And that’s what he does, pushing into Kes for another kiss, a little harder, a little more, hands grasping at Kes’ back, his jacket. The weight on his chest disappears, the anxiety calming into a gentle wave in his stomach as they kiss under the street lamp, so different than they were an hour ago but somehow still the same.

“So,” he breathes when they slide apart, dizzy, giddy.

Kes just smiles this time, and Lucas thinks, maybe he doesn’t have to worry. Just this once.

#skamnl #skam nl #lukes #skam nl fic #my fic

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lovemychoices · 5 years

Text

The Lost Prince - TRR AU [Liam x MC] Mini Series - CH.2

After being married for three years and unable to produce an heir, Liam and Riley are about to give up when Liam gets an unexpected news that changes his life forever.

Genre : Romance, Drama

*THIS SERIES PRACTICALLY THROWS CANON OUT THE WINDOW* YEET!YEET!

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 2000 ish

Chapter Summary: Liam finally meets his son for the first time. How will things go?

A/N : So I’m posting from my mobile because I don’t have a laptop near me and will probably be posting on my phone from now on. So just heads up since I cant put the KEEP READING option via mobile app I’m tagging this under #long post. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes I didn’t have the time to check for edits.

Warning : None... I think..

Catch up with the series HERE

Liam stands outside a Victorian style home in a suburban area somewhere in Los Angeles. He has been standing out there for about ten minutes contemplating whether this was a good idea. His thoughts brought him back to the night before.

Flashback, Cordonia.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Riley asked leaning against the door frame of their bedroom with her arms folded as she watched her husband packed his clothes into a suitcase. “I don’t understand why cant you send Hakim like you always do?”

Liam puts the last of his clothing and zipped his luggage shut before turning to his wife. “ Because they wanted to meet with me personally and nobody else. Besides ...” He began saunter towards Riley placing his hands on her shoulder before he kissed her forehead. “I need you here to look after things while I’m gone, especially since we’re expecting visitors from Auvernal in a few days.”

“If I must, as long as you promise to come back before our interview with the potential surrogates.” Riley gave a forced smile, ever since she mentioned about the whole surrogacy option her husband has been acting a little differently, like there was something he was hiding from her. She was beginning to think he was doubting her ability as his wife.

“I promise to bring you a box of cronuts from your favourite shop in New York.”

“Make that two boxes.” She grinned and tiptoed to kiss him on the lips. Not having a clue about the secret her husband was keeping from her, that he wasn’t goingu to New York for a diplomatic meeting but was traveling to LA instead to meet with the son he never knew he had.

Present day, Somewhere in the suburbs of LA

He didn’t like lying to his wife, but he had to make sure before he said anything. What if this child wasn’t his? Then he would have caused panic for nothing. But what is the child is his? How will Riley feel about raising his child? A child that wasn’t hers but from some other woman that he had been with only once. He certainly wasn’t going to abandon his own son, his own flesh & blood.

“It’s now or never Liam, you can’t stand out here forever.” He murmurs under his breath and takes a step up the front porch then rings the doorbell. The door opens and he is greeted by a woman with black hair and tanned skin, she smiles when she sees him.

“Hello, I’m….”

“Liam, I mean your Majesty. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Come right in, we’ve been expecting you.” She said opening the door and motioning him in before closing the door behind her. As he steps inside a the woman gives him a curious look. “I’m sorry to ask but did you come alone your majesty? I thought you would be coming with your wife?”

“No it’s just me. And please no need for formalities, Liam is fine.” He said and proceeds to walk through the foyer into the living area, his eyes wander across family photos hanging on the wall. “This is a nice place you have.”

“Thank you but it’s not mine, it belonged to Maya. She inherited it during her junior year at college when her parents passed away.” Her emotion suddenly solemn. “I’m sorry to hear about that.” Liam murmurs in a sympathetic tone. “Did she.. Did she have anyone else?”

Leah shakes her head. “She was an only child, didn’t have many relatives that she was close with. After they passed it was just her.. You know until she had Theon.”

His name is Theon? Liam felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name. “She never married, I mean between juggling work as an corporate lawyer and being a single mom she didn’t really have the time. Theon was always her main priority.” Leah said giving Liam a sad smile. “Could you come with me? There is something I need to show you.” Liam nods and follows her into a small study, once again his eyes wanders on the interior of the room, there were a few award plaques mounted on the walls and on the shelves a few thropies.

“Those were mostly hers.” Leah mentions when she notice Liam staring at them and walks over to him. “Her parents kept all of her achievements, they were very proud of her. After that she used this room not just to place her own achievements but Theon’s as well.” She gestures to a few of the medals and throphies on the right corner of the shelf and Liam’s eyes followed. He picks up one of the gold medals in his hand which had the word First Place and Little league scoccer team engraved onto it. A small smile crept onto his lips as he did.

“Anyway this is for you.” She hands him a small velvet box and he politely takes it from her then opens it only to find 2 flash drives inside it, each with a specific label. “Maya had it made a while ago before she...”

Liam sputters. “When did she find out? That she was sick?”

“Last winter. She was ice skating with Theon when she suddenly felt the this pain in her abdomen and couldn’t get up. After she was diagnosed she never gave up even if she knew her chances were slim, she had to fight for him.”

“She sounds like a remarkable woman.” Liam praises with a weak smile, his heart suddenly felt heavy. “I wish.. I wished I could have been there for the both of them.” There were so many questions in his mind, why now? Why didn’t she seek him earlier? How long did she know his true identity? Because to his memory he didn’t tell her who he really was the night they met.

Leah places a comforting hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters. You can use the laptop if you want to see what’s on the flash drive. I’ll be upstairs with Theon if you need me.”

Liam slowly makes his way to the desk and takes a seat. He opens it up on the laptop, sticking the flash drive that was labeled To Liam into the usb port then open it. He sees a bunch of folders with labels such as Theon’s birth, Theon’s first steps, Theon’s 1st birthday and so on. He continues to scroll through till he notices a video saved as Liam. He double clicks to play the video, when it opens it shows Maya sitting in the same study in the exact same chair. She was wearing a white blouse and pearl blue scarf on her head, she looked thinner than he remembered and slightly pale but it was probably from being sick.

“Hey Liam. It’s me, Maya. I don’t know if you remember me but we met six years ago.” She blushes and shakes her head, then adjusts the scarf on her head. “Gosh this is harder than I thought. Anyway if you’re seeing this video it means that I am already dead and you probably already know about my son… Our son.”

“I want to tell you everything that happened, but where do I begin?” She murmured with her eyes downcast while fidgeting with her nails. “First of all I’m sorry for keeping this secret from you for a long time but believe me when I say, I wanted to tell you when I found out. I even went asking around all the modeling agencies in LA if they knew a Liam Devaraux only to get a no for an answer every time. It finally hit me that you must have been using a fake name. I gave up eventually and had Theon months later. I wish you could have seen him when he was born, he was the most beautiful 7 pound baby I had ever laid my eyes on.” She pauses a moment trying to hold back her tears.

“Three years later I finally found out who you really were. I was in the living room watching the news about some American waitress from New York who was about to marry a young King from a Mediterranean country. You can imagine my surprise to find out that Liam Devaraux was actually Liam Rys, King of Cordonia. I knew I should have tried to reach out to you when I found out but I just didn’t want all of this to get in the way of your soon to be happy family.”

“I wish there was another way, that things could have gone differently. Part of me sometimes wondered if I didn’t just leave that day or if I stuck around that day, would we be this actual happy family or something. But as fate has it we were never meant to be.”

“I know that this is a lot but now that I am gone, Theon doesn’t have anyone. You are the only family he has left. There are no excuse that I could say that would make you forgive me for keeping your son from you all these years. But I’m begging you do not punish him for the mistakes that I have made. I did what I thought was best back then and I’m doing this now. Theon deserves to be with his father, he deserves to be with someone who can teach him how to be kind and compassionate. And from what I’ve read about you, I know that you’ll raise him well.”

“Please tell Theon that I’m sorry and that I will always be proud of and him and that I will alway love him with all my heart even when I’m gone... Goodbye.”

Tears fell from Liam’s eyes as he finished watching the video Maya had left him, he leans on the chair with his hands cup to his mouth. How could he not have known? He takes a few minutes left in his thoughts before he finally gathers himself, adjusting the blazer for his jacket then proceeds to head upstairs. This was the moment he has been waiting for since he got the call.

Liam opens the door and see Leah sitting on the floor with a little boy. They both turn to his direction as they hear the door squeak open, Leah give Liam an encouraging smile and he nod grate fully.

She held the little boys hand and gently pulls him up with her, he looks at Liam curiously but not saying a word. “Theon this is Liam.. Liam I’d like you to meet Theon.”

Liam smiled and crouch down so his eyes we’re leveled with Theon’s. Taking in his features, the resemblance to his face when he was a child was just uncanny, of course there were slight differences his hair was a slightly darker blonde and his eyes. His eyes were just like Maya’s the way he remembered, one was blue while the other was half blue and half brown. Nevertheless he knew then and there even without a DNA test that Theon was his, he could feel it in his heart. But he knew he still need to have one done if he wanted to prove Theon’s legitimacy to the council. “Hello Theon, it’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand, Theon looks at Leah who nods then back to Liam and shakes his hand. “That’s a firm grip you have there son.” Son.. The words just splattered out of Liam’s mouth but it somehow felt so natural.

Theon give him a weak smile. “Are you my father?” Liam felt a little caught off guard by the question for a moment, the word father was a still foreign to him. After all he didn’t know he was one until a day ago. He looks up at Leah then back at the little boy. “I... I believe so.. would that be alright?” He sputters.

Theon gives an approving nod and places one of his hands on Liam’s cheeks. “Mom said I looks my father and you kinda look like me or at least I think you do.”

Liam chuckles. “Well she got that part right. What else did she tell you?”

“She told me that you’re an important man and that your superpower is protecting your country and it’s people.” He pauses for a moment then continues. “Is it true? Do you... Do you have superpowers?”

“I have some sort of power though if it’s super or not that’s up for you decide.”

“Cool.. I guess..”He said with his eyes downcast, fidgeting with the toy in his hands. Liam noticed this and remembered that look it was the same look he had when he lost his mom. It broke his heart to think about what Theon must have been going through, no matter how old the child it is never easy losing a parent. "Theon, if something is bothering you.. you can tell me you know?"

Theon is quite for a while, it was like he wanted to say something but was too afraid to say it. “Maybe I’ll leave you two alone to catch up.” Leah said, Liam nods and she leaves the room.

Liam notice the unfinished blocks of legos Theon was playing with before he came in. “I notice you were building something earlier on.. would you like to show it to me? Maybe the two of us can work on it?” He gives a kind smile, Theon nods and leads Liam to the pile of blocks where they both take a seat on the floor and start assembling.

“So Theon, can you tell me what it is we’re building?”

“It’s a castle and it’s going to be really awesome. Mom got it for me during my birthday we were supposed to work on it together but then she got really sick and we never managed to finish it.” He said in a sad tone, his eyes downcast while his fingers fidget with the piece of lego. Tears began to fall on his cheeks.

Liam’s heartbroke, he could feel and understand the pain his son was going through after all he too lost his mother at a young age. He shifted from from where he was and sits next to Theon wrapping his one arm around him pulling him in for a comforting hug. “Hey buddy, it’s alright to feel sad and cry. You miss your mom and that’s understandable. I lost my mom when I was a kid too.”

Theon tilts his head up looking at Liam, trying to stiffle his cry. “You... you lost your mom too?”

Liam give him a weak nod. “I was a little more older than you but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. I remember who heartbroken I was when she first passed away, I used to sneak into her quarters and lay on her bed just so I could feel her scent and fall asleep.”

“I do that too.. Do you still miss her?”

“Everyday..” He gives a weak smile. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t go on with my life and be happy. My mother would want me to be happy and so yours would too. She loves you very much Theon and she would want you to live your life to the fullest. I know right now you feel like you’re alone in the world but you’re not, you have me and I promise I will never leave you.”

Theon wipes away the tears from his face and sputters. “You.. you promise?”

Liam smiled pulling him into a tight hug. “I promise.”

*************************************************

TRR/TRH - @charliejane-blog @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @cmestrella @pixieferry @lodberg @traeumerinwitzhelden @romanticatheart-posts @gnatbrain @the-soot-sprite @texaskitten30 @ao719 @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @jessiembruno @kinkykingliam @jlpplays1 @annekebbphotography @thecordoniandiaries @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm @jessiembruno @leelee10898 @rafasgirl23415 @cordonianroyalty @lauradowning29 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @msjr0119 @janezillow @heauxplesslydevoted

#the royal romance #the royal heir #trr x trh au #liam x mc #king liam #trr liam #drake walker #liam rys #playchoices #trr #trh #long post

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tightropenuzlocke · 4 years

Photo

Chapter Six: Supernova Shining Bright

Route 5 had a skatepark of all things, but maybe that was to cut down on the number wheels in the city proper. The place itself was something to see, to say nothing of all the people using it—this one girl in a headscarf was really good! So Aisling and Tierney hung back to watch for a while. Aisling had always wanted to try skateboarding, but there was never enough pavement where she grew up to get properly into it. Might be something to pick up a little farther down the line. Maybe Tierney would be up for trying it with her—though her fascination could be more due to with some of the people in the the skatepark than the skating itself. And who could blame her?

The smell of burning fur interrupted Aisling’s musings and she cast around to find her new Charmander crunching what appeared to be the remains of a charred Minun. Time to stop lingering and get to work.

She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled piercingly to gather up her crew. Bree had never left her side and Gobán shot out of the grass to her, wings fluttering in readiness. Surprisingly, Finley appeared almost as fast and landed lightly on Aisling’s arm when she held it out. It was a nice change.

Aisling hated herself for thinking it.

Emer came bouncing along, babbling about a pond the wilds had told her was off to the north through the crops. Hmm. A watering hole like that was a good place to find battles.

Most of the fields were oats or lavender so Aisling forbade Ember and had her Charmander use Scratch on her wild opponents. The restriction irked her a bit but didn’t slow her much. She really was a ferocious piece of work, but that lust for battle was perfect for Aisling’s purposes. Honestly someone should be paying her for all the Bunnelbies and Gogoats she was clearing out of here.

Finley had to fly up and scout ahead to find any battles for herself and dutifully returned after each match to be checked over, while Íde continued to charge heedlessly ahead.

“Leave some for me!” Gobán hissed at the Charmander’s back.

Emer found the pond and dove in for a swim while the others took a drink. Her buoyant tail bobbed along the surface as she swam beneath, sending ripples across the water that made the lilypads dance—all but one. A pair of big yellow eyes peered out from under it and burrowed into Aisling. The head was amphibian in shape and covered in dark brown mud.

Aisling leaned over. “Bree,” she whispered, “see that pokemon lurking under the lilypads?”

Bree squinted. “Oh yeah!”

“Think you could lasso it from here?”

Bree nodded and planted herself before hauling back and firing out a vine. The pokemon ducked but Bree’s aim was true thanks to all their practice. She slid a bit in the muck near the edge and backed up onto more solid ground to reel in her catch hand over hand.

With a final yank something bright turquoise and sparkling flew out of the water and flopped heavily onto the ground. Not a Froakie, but a Croagunk of a shade Aisling had never seen.

A shiny.

The Croagunk hopped to its feet and belched lavender mist as it struck Bree in the face with its tongue. The Quilladin flinched but her vine didn’t loosen so the Croagunk kneed her with a swift dark-type attack.

Aisling had Bree meet the next attack with Needle Arm and the sting of her quills was enough to put the Croagunk on the back foot. Bree had it pinned and beaten less than a minute later.

Bree backed off the Croagunk and it sighed in relief but flinched as Aisling approached.

“We’re not gonna kill ya,” Bree assured it. “You can be on our team!”

Aisling tossed her ball and the Croagunk disappeared in a flash.

“Oh! Whatcha catch?” Xoana and the rest had caught up. “Comtesse just got a Snubbull.”

Aisling let the Croagunk back out and they all gasped. Tracie whipped out her pokedex.

“Is that a shiny?!” Xoana yelled. “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe your caught another one, holy shit!”

“Hail to the shiny queen!” Tierney crowed.

“Croagunk is nice, I suppose, even if it is doubling up on fighting-type.” Serena really needed to step up her shade.

“Toxicroak is the shit,” said Aisling, looking at her new shiny pokemon.

The Croagunk shifted nervously from all the attention and nearly jumped out of her skin when Bree clapped her on the back. But Bree and Emer spoke encouragingly to her while Aisling’s friends continued to freak out, and she settled down.

Gobán slithered up to Aisling’s shoulder and hummed in pride and excitement. Her powerful Charmander settled by her feet.

The luck god still smiled on her.

...

Serena herded them all back towards the path so that they “would reach the hotel before dark” before Xoana could really finish processing Aisling’s second shiny catch. Xoana couldn’t help glancing back again and again to check that this was real. Each time the Crogunk was still there, sparkling like the southern sea as it trailed behind them all.

Predictably there was another, almost as urgent pull at her attention. Aisling had a little more swagger in her step again and she held her head high, exposing a strip of her freckled neck above the collar.

“Korrina!”

Xoana jolted out of her contemplation with a flush rising to her own neck. Serena was already bounding forward to meet the young woman and her Lucario. Korrina waved back and hit the brakes on her roller blades, causing her long, blonde ponytail to swing forward over her shoulder.  Aisling leaned into Xoana’s periphery and nodded to Korrina questioningly.

“The Yantreizh Gym Leader. We’ve, uh, known her for a bit.”

“Nice,” said Aisling with a grin.

Maybe at the beginning it was. Now… Xoana didn’t want to think about. Though she probably should. Korrina was more or less the reason they were all here—all but Aisling anyway. Serena had wanted to enter Prof. Sycamore’s program rather than train with her mother since Korrina had taken part and come out the other side as Kalos’s youngest Gym Leader. Now she was an idol of mega evolution to rival Diantha.  

“Hey Serena! Hi Xoana!” Korrina chirped.

Xoana was a little energetic herself sometimes, but Korrina made her tired.

“How have you been?” Neither got a chance to answer. “I already know! I heard you both got into the mega evo program! That’s so awesome! Up top girls!” She offered them both a high five which Serena eagerly accepted. “I’m so pumped for us to have a real battle, so work hard okay?”

  “Of course! I look forward to it!” Serena chirped. Gods the bald-faced admiration and need. It was like looking in a mirror—or a window into a past she was not keen to return to.   Which is why Xoana looked away and noticed the Lucario getting up in Aisling’s space. She held her ground even as the pokemon’s aura sensors stood on end and her Dunsparce hissed from her shoulder.  

“Artemis!” Korrina reprimanded. A sharp look passed between them before the Lucario reluctantly stepped back. “Sorry about that…?”  

“Aisling.”  

“Aisling,” Korrina repeated. “Nice to meet you! You’re in the mega evo program too.” She held out her hand and glanced at her Lucario again. “Artemis says you have an interesting aura. She’s never seen anything like it.”

  “Really?” said Aisling, betraying nothing. “Neat!”

  They didn’t get to talk for long before Serena butted back in and Xoana tuned right out. The jealousy was more than she could take. Sure Korrina was gorgeous and talented, but that kind of laser focus came at the expense of other things. Xoana just didn’t see the lasting appeal.

At some point Korrina noticed the bright turquoise frog with them and that understandably derailed the conversation for a while, though of course Korrina would never be gauche enough to ignore Serena entirely—just Tierney and Tracie.

Xoana’s gaze drifted from Korrina to her Lucario. Having been forbidden from investigating Aisling more thoroughly, Artemis had turned her attention a little more covertly on Aisling’s team, scrutinizing each in turn. If there was something odd about Aisling’s aura, would it effect her pokemon? Was that a thing? The whole aura business was more in the realm of pseudo-science except for the fact that some species of pokemon could very clearly see them. Maybe unexplored was a better term.

“Well, Artemis and I should be going but I’m so glad we ran into you all!” Good. It was almost over. “I’m sorry again about Artemis. She forgets about the proximity thing.” The irritated flick of the Lucario’s ears suggested otherwise, but she dipped her head in apology as required. “I can’t wait to see you all again in Yantreizh, especially you, Aisling.”

She skated leisurely away and her Lucario jogged behind her after one final lingering look at Aisling. Serena waved even though Korrina didn’t look back.

“So,” Aisling began in that tone that meant she was about to start something. “How long you been nursing that crush, Comtesse?”

Xoana turned her head slowly. It was like she was being transported to a parallel universe.

“Wh-what?” Serena stuttered.

“You heard me.”

Xoana was clearly imagining this. She was having an intrusive daydream, nothing more.

“It’s not—!” Serena paused and adjusted her tone, “a crush.”

Aisling nodded, lips tightly sealed and eyebrows hitched all the way to her hairline.

“I just admire her.” Serena started walking again to avoid Aisling’s increasingly triumphant expression but didn’t have the sense to stop digging herself deeper. “She’s not that much older than us but already so accomplished. And she’s so nice, you know? And she always has been. Xoana and I have known her for years.”

Serena continued but she was no longer looking their way so Aisling leaned over and whispered to Xoana: “So I’m hearing,” she counted off on her fingers, “absolutely a crush, totally legal, deeper than that hot bod, and years now. That about sum it up?”

Xoana covered her mouth but still snorted audibly. Serena came back to earth and Aisling covered her with a cough.

“Sorry.” Another totally phony cough. “Please do go on. I’d like to hear more about her.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but she couldn’t resist the urge to monologue about Korrina for very long. Tierney and Tracie pulled ahead so that they wouldn’t have to participate and Xoana and Aisling stayed a step behind. Aisling leaned in again when Serena was sufficiently distracted.

“Have you tried telling her how gay she is?”

Yes, but it wasn’t something she could do again. “Have you tried telling Serena anything?”

Aisling laughed.

“Maybe we should go straight to Yantreizh?” Serena fretted, turning to them.

Xoana and Aisling leaned away from each other to look a bit less like conspirators.

“Sounds great! Just a quick trip over the mountains!”

“We could—”

“I’m joking,” Aisling cut her off. “I wanna see the beach this summer.” Serena threw Aisling her dirtiest look and opened her mouth to argue. “Besides which, we’re not ready. Don’t you think we should have at least one more badge under our belts before we face her?”

Serena swallowed whatever she was going to say and gave it another moment’s thought. “You’re right. It’s important that we be well-prepared for the Yantreizh Gym. We need to make the best impression possible on Korrina—since she’ll be judging whether we’re ready to proceed in the program.”

Xoana and Aisling nodded, trying to keep their faces serious. They let her keep talking and slowly the vision began to fade. It was slipping away like a dream upon waking, and Xoana snatched at it.

“You—you see it too, right?” she asked softly.

“Oh, absolutely.”

Aisling’s unqualified confidence loosened something in Xoana’s chest. Perhaps it was more than one thing. She’d been ignoring that tightness so long it was difficult to say. There were ugly emotions, tangled with the rest. She couldn’t tease out one without bringing the whole mess to the surface. Or she couldn’t before. Maybe with some more time, some more gentle loosening, she could unravel a bit more of herself. She could find where it belonged and weave it in properly.

“What’s so interesting about your aura?” Serena asked as casually as she could muster—which approximately equated to the demeanor of a detective in an interrogation.

Aisling shrugged. “Donno. Can’t see ’em.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed again. Aisling pretended not to notice, but that wouldn’t stop Serena—not when there was a challenge before her.

“Maybe we should have another battle. A rematch.”

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

They sent their new catches out first and Serena had her Snubbull use Charm right off the bat to even the playing field. Aisling had her Croagunk counter with Astonish, which succeeded in tripping the Snubbull up and reclaiming the advantage until she made the mistake of using Mud-Slap. Sure it rendered the Snubbull half-blind, but it also sent her into a frothing Rage that spooked the poor Croagunk, setting her up for a Headbutt to the gut that knocked her right out of the battle.

Aisling flinched a little and withdrew her before sending in Emer to hose the furious Snubbull down.

Serena and her new catch didn’t much appreciate the consideration. She sent in her Squirtle, only it turned out to be Justine using Illusion to close. Emer was tougher now, but Justine fought furiously to take care of the water-type and prevailed with Serena’s quick orders and encouragement.

Xoana called Emer over and tended to the downtrodden Marill rather than let her be withdrawn looking so disappointed.

The triumphant Zorua lasted mere seconds against Aisling’s Charmander, who didn’t even flinch as Serena’s actual Squirtle stepped up to face her.

“Wait for an opening and use Scratch,” Aisling commanded clearly and calmly.

“Water Gun, Laurent!”

The moment of hesitation made it clear that these two knew each other. Shockingly the Charmander did as she was told and dodged the first volley before raking the Squirtle. He withdrew into his shell but she continued her assault until he was able to use her wind-up to nail her right in the face with Water Gun. Even the point blank hit wasn’t quite enough and she struck him savagely across the face, laying him out.

Aisling whooped and her Charmander looked down at her opponent in satisfaction, tensing in gleeful anticipation as Félicité stepped up to challenge her. Serena’s brows set and the Fennekin blasted into Íde with Flame Charge, not to do damage, but to gain speed. She danced clean away from the Charmander’s slashes with the boost and scratched up her chest and face until she fell.

Félicité evolved from the victory, rearing onto her hind legs as she transformed. She flexed her far more dexterous paws experimentally, ignoring Justine’s excited yipping and hopping behind her, but sharing a glance and a smile with Serena.

Aisling looked to Gobán, still on her shoulder, and nodded. The flattened serpentine creature leapt gracefully down and Félicité met her with an Ember. Gobán emerged from the blaze covered in rock and knocked Félicité clean off her feet. She used Flame Charge to get clear of the next hit and scramble back up onto two legs. She danced to the side and roasted the Dunsparce again, but it didn’t do much but warm the rocky armor before Gobán rolled back out of range. Félicité took a deep breath as Gobán went into the turn, gathering herself, and blasted the Dunsparce with one continuous stream as she came in again. Serena’s fists clenched tight, willing strength into Félicité’s flames. Gobán barreled into her head, knocking her down again and slamming into her a third time as she tried to rise. Félicité yelped and Justine whined.

For a moment Serena paused, but then her eyes met Félicité’s and she hung her head.

Gobán came to a halt and shed her rocky casing. Heat haze drifted off the pebbles and some of the Dunsparce’s scales were discolored. But she slithered back to Aisling, wings fluttering and pleased as anything.

Félicité forced herself to sit up, clutching at her side. Serena knelt to look her over, and Justine fretted by her side.

“Good battle, Comtesse. That was even closer than last time,” Aisling remarked. “You nearly had us.”

But of course that was no consolation to Serena, who thought she should have had it in the bag. Xoana stepped in to shift her focus.

“Félicité evolved! That’s so awesome! We should all keep our eyes open for a stick she can use as a wand!”

Serena was still sullen after that, but it did get her moving on towards Fort-Vanitas.

#nuzlocke #storylocke #pokemon xy #wlw #Tightrope #chapter

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