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byunbaekby · 4 years

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Mythomaniac—childhood best friend!haechan x female reader.

summary: he’s your best friend, he’s always been. but sometimes you have to stop gazing through those rose colored lenses to see donghyuck for who he really is; a liar. warnings: recreational drug use, language, hyuck being an asshole maybe, depictions of a toxic relationship, peer pressure, happy ending? what’s that genres: childhood best friends to almost lovers (?), angst, fluff if you squint, coming of age word count: 10.5k author’s message: big thank you @yongiefilms and @gardenpebble for proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post this. this has been a work in progress for a long time, and i hope you all enjoy it! this story is inspired by the songs, “liar” by leon and “i swear i’ll never leave again” by keshi. i would recommend listening to these!

The first time Lee Donghyuck lies to you, you’re both eight years old and fighting over the playground swing.

It’s your turn, you argue, kicking the floor as tears well in your eyes. Recess is over in five minutes and you’ve been waiting for Juna to get off since it started! But then this random dark-haired boy suddenly shows up and is going to take it away from you.

“It’s my turn!” You screech again, on the edge of a temper tantrum.

Your shrill tone causes Donghyuck to wince, and being much more mannered than you, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll push you. Tomorrow, you push me. Okay?”

Sniffling, you nod and make your way onto the swing. When you jump up and land your bottom on the seat, your toes barely brush the ground. You grasp tightly onto the swing, looking over your shoulder at the boy who’s disappeared behind you. “Not too hard, okay? Not too high.”

“I won’t push too hard.” You’re still unconvinced.

“Promise?”

His response comes out as smooth as honey. “Promise.” His hands are already on your back, pushing you forward ever so lightly. It’s okay at first, and a bright smile spreads across your lips as you register the breeze fanning across your face.

A boisterous laugh leaves your lips, like sparkling stars in the dark of the night. For a moment your small childish world is overrun by excitement and enjoyment; the only thing that exists in this moment is you and the swing. From the height you’re at you can almost see the whole playground.

Wait—the whole playground? Were you already up this high?

When you reach the highest peak of your pendulum you look down, and your eyes widen at the distance from the ground that you are. Your bright laugh now turns into a terrified shriek. “Too high! Too high! Let me down!”

Donghyuck is, at first, unaware of just how frightened you are, but when you start flailing around in fear, his eyes widen. It all happens so fast. You swing back and forth a few times but your limbs are flying around so impulsively in your moment of fear that the boy has to scoot away so he isn’t hit by your flailing figure. Then one more time, you’re at the highest point of the swing when your frightened flailing becomes too much and before either of you can register, you’re flying off the swing and freefalling toward the ground.

He’s afraid to look so he turns away, but your loud crying quickly turns him back to you as the recess bell rings, signaling the end of your playtime. When he sees you on the ground, his first instinct is to run away. But then he sees you grasping your leg and crying, crying, crying.

God, you sure do cry a lot.

“Are you… are you okay?” He asks, running to kneel beside you.

You shake your head furiously, still grasping onto your ankle which burns with pain. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in all eight years of your life. Tears freely flow down the apples of your cheeks.

On the verge of panicking, Donghyuck tears your arm from where you’re grasping onto your leg in the moment of searing pain, and swings it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, as though encouraging not you, but himself. With the strength that a normal eight year old wouldn’t have, he stands and pulls you to your feet. Your eyes wince in pain as sharpness shoots up your right leg, but alongside Donghyuck, the two of you walk to the nurse’s office.

He had lied. He said he wouldn’t push you too hard. He promised.

Your parents had told you since you were a little kid, fibbing about whether or not you ate the last cookie in the cookie jar, that lying was bad. But that day, you find that maybe lying isn’t always bad.

Because Donghyuck’s lie brings you a new friend.

“Do you think things will change, Hyuck?”

Your sudden question causes him to open his eyes from where he lays in the grass. When he does, it’s as though the stars in the sky are reflected on his orbs. But no, that’s just your crush on your best friend making itself prevalent once again.

“Things change everyday, Y/N.” His answer leaves you unsatisfied, so you roll your eyes, laying back down beside him in the grass. The playground is only a few feet away, but who are you to play at the park? You’re thirteen years old, for God’s sake.

“I mean in high school. The first day of school is already next week, aren’t you worried?” You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing at his relaxed expression.

His chapped lips purse in mild consideration, before shrugging his t-shirt clad shoulders. Carefree Donghyuck and worrisome Y/N, that’s your dynamic.

“It’s just high school. Same people, different classes. Why are you worried?”

“It’s just—” You sigh, eyes staring up into the endless dark abyss of the sky. “Things change. People change. You’ve seen the teen movies! The childhood best friends go to high school, one of them is super smart and becomes a nerd, the other one goes and does drugs.”

All you get in response is a laugh. Donghyuck’s laughter is something you’ve become accustomed to over the years. He has the light, boisterous laughter where something is so absolutely funny that he can’t help but screech. There’s the mid-tier average laugh, which he often lets out around relatives to be polite, but it comes off a bit awkward. Finally, he has the low chuckle in his throat he does when he finds something amusing and almost pitiful—it’s almost always reserved for you.

“We can definitely tell which one of us is which,” he jokes, which causes you to turn and slap his chest lightly, playfully.

“Drugs are bad,” you respond gently, reeling back into your space on the grass. Hyuck doesn’t understand: he’s easygoing, an extrovert with a sunny disposition. He’ll have no problem making friends in high school. You, on the other hand, won’t have it so easy. You can’t lose your one and only best friend. Wrapping yourself in your hoodie, you sigh. Hyuck registers this pitiful sound and settles down a bit; he knows when you’re really upset about something.

Suddenly scooching closer to you on the grass, he speaks softly. “Listen.” You do. “Nothing is going to change. Not between us. Things will happen, we’ll meet people, but we’re best friends forever, okay?” Now he looks straight to you rather than the sky, and you stare back. There’s something in his eyes, determination clear as he speaks. “I promise there will come a day when we grow up and become old, that we’ll come back to this park and stargaze just like now. By then, we’ll be able to drive ourselves, and your mom won’t have to wait for us,” he says, nudging his head toward the curb where your mom sits in her car. This makes you laugh: it really is amusing, your mom waiting for the two of you. “So shut up and stop doubting.”

Hyuck knows your insecurity and that’s what makes him your best friend. Your only best friend in the whole world. Quietly you respond with a question, digging your hand out of your hoodie sweater paws. “You really promise?”

Easily does he intertwine his finger with yours before leaning back into his spot. “Do I ever break my promises?”

The answer is yes, because a month later it’s a Friday afternoon when Hyuck does just that—break his promise.

Your first month of high school wasn’t as bad as you had initially thought it would be, really. Your teachers seemed nice for the most part, and you had managed to make a friend. A real friend, other than Hyuck. His name is Mark, and you only meet him because he’s the TA for your biology class. He’s a year older and not completely comfortable speaking Korean yet, but you’ll take what you can get!

Sadly, you don’t have any classes with your best friend. You don’t even share the same lunch period, and it saddens you that you can’t pay witness to Hyuck laughing so hard to shoot carrot bits from his nose anymore. He made friends in his classes though, and tells you about them. Most of them are upperclassmen… it’s not a surprise that your outgoing friend would be so compatible with older kids. So, you don’t get to see him that often. But that’s what the time outside of school is spent for: your best friend.

The two of you are supposed to meet at the park like you normally do on Fridays. It’s not a long walk from your school, and you’re halfway there when your phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, your eyes focus on the message lit on the screen.

[ Hyuckie ] : Jaehyun hyung invited me to hang out with the guys at his house. Sorry! Next week, I promise.

You sigh.

It’s not the first time he’s rainchecked you for that group of rambunctious older boys. The first week of school, you were supposed to get ice cream when he suddenly pulled up with those guys in tow. Just last weekend, he had promised to take you roller skating for your birthday, only to cancel when you already had your shoes on.

It’s like he has no time for you anymore.

So with a bitter huff, you send a passive-aggressive response and turn on your heels, trudging the rest of the way home.

When the bell rings, you slip your airpods into your ears and put your hood on. Finally, the day is over. Sadly, it’s only Tuesday so you still have a ways to go before the weekend.

Music rings in your ears as you tread down the halls of your high school, hands tucked into your hoodie pocket. It’s quite hot outside, winter transforming into the buds of spring. Spring and the oncoming heat make it more difficult for you to limit your fashion to hoodies.

When you push open the front building doors, the heat hits you, but you immediately walk toward a little shaded area under a tree near the courtyard. It’s where you always wait for him after school.

As you make your way there, the group of boys leaning against the wall don’t fail to catch your attention. With their brightly coloured hair and dark shaded eyes, it’s hard to miss them.

You have to reject the urge to visibly scoff at their appearance—they don’t even go here anymore, having graduated years ago. Why do they still show up here and hang around like they own the place?

Even if they left the school a while back, they still have a vivid reputation at the school. Though you had never paid attention, there are a few you know. Taeyong, presumably the oldest with his bright red hair and clouded gaze. Johnny, who had quickly been recruited into this group of delinquents upon his transfer from Chicago. Among them are others who you don’t care at all about.

Though their gazes follow you as you walk directly across their line of sight, you ignore them and retreat to your spot. Flopping down, your bottom meets the grass and you lean your head back against the tree. Closing your eyes, music fills your ears as your eyes meet darkness. For a moment, it’s as though you can shut out the world and simply relish in your own company.

High school hasn’t changed you much, but the people around you have changed.

The moment passes soon enough, as you feel a light slap on your thigh causing you to open your eyes. Your gaze lands on the sight of your best friend, who plops down beside you. A gleeful smile spreads across your face as you take your airpod out.

“Mark,” you tsk. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though a smile rests on his face. “Mr. Moon wanted to talk to me about something.”

“What about?”

“Auditioning for the talent show.” You blink, your eyes widening a bit at his revelation. Mr. Moon runs the talent show every year; if Mark had caught his eye, there would be no doubt that he would get in, and maybe even win the show.

“Really? You should!”

“I don’t know,” he says, pursing his lips in thought. “Honestly I don’t think I’d be good enough.”

“Shut up, you will. Besides, it’s your last year, you’ll never know what could have been if you never try.” The thought sobers you a bit: because Mark is a year older than you, his senior year will soon be coming to an end. The idea of spending your final year without your best friend saddens you.

Speaking of what could have been, the same time that Mark shows up, someone else also makes an appearance.

Fleetingly your eyes flicker over the group in the corner. Lee Donghyuck joins the group, his purple hair falling over his eyes as he lets his backpack fall to the floor. You watch, lips pursed as Taeyong hands him a joint, then you turn away.

He doesn’t call himself Donghyuck anymore. Or Hyuck, or your best friend. He’s Haechan now.

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” Mark’s voice rings in your ear.

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts of what could have been, you look to your best friend. Black hair is more appropriate than purple, you decide then. “Hm?”

“I was telling you that I’m leaving, but you zoned out.” You know he has his job, shifting through vinyls at the record store, in twenty minutes. Slowly, you bob your head in a nod.

“Okay… Have fun at work.”

“I will. I work for the rest of the week but we’ll hang out this weekend, okay?” You nod in response. He’s been a bit busy recently, but you don’t worry too much about it. “Promise.”

Your smile must visibly falter a bit, even though you try not to let it show. Mark’s eyes immediately widen slightly—sometimes he forgets how you dislike promises. How they give you a sense of false hope, and how you’d rather not give them space in your heart to do so. “Sorry,” he sounds. He stands and places a hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you.”

Then he leaves, and you pop your music back into your ear. With a soft sigh you look out at the courtyard, at the students leaving and cars moving. Will there ever be anything more than this? You take in the sight: the students running across the yard to their friends, the school doors opening and closing, even the group of boys racketing in the corner of your vision.

Hyuck—or Haechan as he now calls himself, though you find the name to be dumb and pretentious—is the youngest of them all. It all started in freshman year, when he met them and the distance between the two of you grew. His promises had worn thin, and eventually the string of friendship between you ripped apart right before your eyes. You can’t say that you miss him.

Because you don’t miss Haechan, the replacement for the boy you once knew. You miss Hyuck.

Your best friend who snuck over to your house on his bike when you had gotten rejected by Huang Renjun. The person you could always trust to push you on the swings and know your limits.

But that’s not him anymore.

The thought puts a sour taste on your tongue so you turn your eyes away from the cloud surrounding them and close your eyes. You don’t need him anymore. All you need is the music in your ears and the warm sun soaking into your skin.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly the warmth disappears from your skin. Your eyes slide open and there he is, casting a shadow over you. The sun is gone, only cold filling your veins at the sight of the long-legged memory before you and the smell of weed filling your nose. You take your airpods out of your ears, sighing.

Your voice comes out harsher than you intend. “What do you want, Haechan?”

Your use of his name must catch him off guard. You’ve never called him that—even when you drifted apart, like lonely boats without anchors, you always called him Hyuck in your sweetest tone. Now all you reserve for him is indifference.

“Haechan?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

He blinks, eyes fluttering underneath his lavender fringes. “Oh—” Sheepishly, he nods. It’s unlike the normal persona he employs when walking around school. That Haechan is cocky, flirtatious. “It is.”

You’re not entirely sure what it is that ticks you off. Not him, but the memory of him. “I don’t want any weed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Haechan has the nerve to scoff. “No, that’s not what I’m asking.” You raise your eyebrow at him; he had left you in the dust when he decided to become one with those drug-doing law-breaking fools, yet he has the audacity to stand in front of you now. He takes a deep breath, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, which definitely don’t fit the school dress code. “I want to ask if you want to hang out?”

“Hang out,” you repeat, eyebrow raised. You could almost scoff from how ridiculous it sounds.

“Yeah.” He nods. His eyes are big, almost sheepish, and for a second he looks like your old Donghyuck. Behind the chains, the hair dye, the eyeliner, and the weed scent, you wonder if he still is. “I promised you I’d take you skating, remember?”

“No, I don’t,” you lie curtly, rising to your feet. Skating, that was over three years ago. It’s upsetting, but something in the way he still remembers this broken promise pushes you to say your next words. “Fine.”

As though he hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so easily, he nods. “How about Saturday? I’ll pick you up at your house? You… you still live in the same place, right?” It’s both humorous and painful that he has to ask.

“Mhm.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and stare at him. “6PM. Don’t be late. And leave the weed at home. You stink.”

With that, you turn on your heels and make your way home. Behind you, you can hear the group of rambunctious boys yelling, congratulating their youngest.

Saturday comes quicker than normal, and it’s nearing five when you’re still not dressed for your meeting with Haechan.

If it were four years ago, you would have thrown on a t-shirt and called it that. If you were hanging out with Mark, it would have been easy to just put on a hoodie and jeans. But something is different now.

Why are you nervous? You ask yourself as you stand before the mirror.

It’s not… a date, but something in you wants to dress up, to look nice. But why? You don’t own many fashionable items, and it’s not a date. You hold back a self-deprecating groan as you darken your lashes with mascara and slather some lip gloss over your lips. He doesn’t deserve it.

You had expected him to come to your door, but when Haechan pulls up to your house in his very own car, all he does is text you. You had deleted his number years ago. Had he kept your’s all this time? Is your contact name still the same?

Fluttering down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a nicer t-shirt, you have to stop to remind yourself not to get caught up in the moment. This isn’t a date.

“You drive now,” is your first comment as you slip into the passenger seat.

The air is dank, reminiscent of a clear weed smell but it’s masked, as though someone had tried to get rid of it. “You look nice,” he says.

All you say is, “Thanks,” then retire yourself to looking out the window. He drives you to the roller rink, the familiar streets sliding by. The ride is quiet, awkward. Four years ago, the two of you would have been chattering away.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot, you’re reconsidering why you even agreed to coming here with him. After he parks, you step out and walk ahead toward the entrance of the roller rink. He jogs to catch up with you, and it’s the first time you get a good look at his outfit.

He dons a blue flannel over a white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. A chain hangs from his belt hook, and another by his neck. His hair is done up, unlike the purple fringe he wore over his eyes earlier in the week. The old Hyuck you knew was a fashion disaster.

“What’s up?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets again as the two of you fall into the line. You need something to do with your hands, and suddenly you regret attempting to dress nice; your hoodie was a lot more comfortable.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask suddenly, turning to him.

“I told you,” Haechan responds. “I wanted to hang out. And I made a promise to you that I’d take you skating for your birthday, but I didn’t. I just want to lighten my conscience a bit.”

A laugh almost leaves your lips at this. His conscience?

“Does your conscience ignore the weed and loitering?”

“Loitering? When do I loiter?”

“No, not you.” You shake your head, correcting him. “Your friends. They don’t even go to school anymore, why are they always around? Waiting for you?”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “Taeyong and Doyoung hyung are helping Mr. Moon coordinate the talent show. They have meetings with him after school. Jaehyun hyung teaches a piano class after school and Johnny tags along.”

Somehow, his answers shock you. It’s hard to picture his “friends” helping out at the school. You don’t respond, and clearly he’s less happy than you to talk about his friends because he follows his words with, “Can we not talk about them? I wanted to catch up with you, not talk more about them.”

“Sorry,” you mumble half-heartedly as you approach the booth, grabbing your size in the roller skates. Then, you search for a spot to sit down and put them on. For a few moments before Haechan joins you with his own skates, you think to yourself, is he sincere? He keeps saying it, and you want to believe it. Does your old Hyuck, your best friend exist somewhere in there?

Haechan approaches you, his skates in hand. You’re focused on tying your own, but you manage to scoot over on the bench you’re in to make room for him to sit as well.

But he surprises you.

He kneels, placing his skates on the ground and before you know it, your fingers on the laces are replaced by his as he ties them into a tight knot. You look up to him, but all your eyes fall on is his face, tightened in focused concentration. “What are you…” You start.

When he finishes tying the last lace into a tight bow, he looks up to meet your eyes. “You should tie them tight. Your laces used to always fall out when we were younger.” Then the corner of his lip tips up into a smile, and you can swear your heart races.

It beats out of your chest and you’re suddenly vividly aware of the fact that his face is mere inches away from yours.

But as quickly as the realization hits you, the moment is over.

He pulls away, taking the seat next to you before putting on his own skates. When he finishes, he pulls you up by the hand to the skating area and you let him. Your legs are a little shaky, but he looks over to you with careful eyes. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

It’s not a promise, but it feels like one. Maybe, you decide, it’s okay to let down your walls and be with him. After all, he was, once upon a time, your best friend.

As much as you want to pull away from him, your legs are sliding, about to give out. You grip onto his arm with both hands, trying to keep your balance, and his hearty laugh is heard in your ear. In the midst of his laugh and your attempt to stand straight, your hand slides down to grasp his instead.

By the time you realize this, you’re already sliding halfway across the rink with gentle hesitant laughs on your lips. This is the first time you’ve talked to Donghyuck in years, yet it feels, you realize as your gaze down at your connected hands, as if you’d never stopped.

A couple hours later when you’ve both had more pizza than your stomachs can hold and both your knees are starting to bruise from how you’ve slipped onto them, Donghyuck brings you somewhere else.

Despite the curtain of dark over the town, you know where he’s taken you the moment he pulls into the street.

When he parks and you slide your feet out of the car to meet the grass, you look around and take in the appearance of this old place which hasn’t felt your presence in years. Your old park. Everything still looks the same, as if your late night stargazing sessions had never halted.

You’re still gazing when Donghyuck pulls you by the hand to the playground. “Come on,” he ushers.

“Hyuck, aren’t you a little old for the playground?” You question, not recognizing your slip.

He stops walking altogether and blinks at you, the light of the moon reflecting off his sparkling orbs. “You… You called me Hyuck.”

You hadn’t even noticed it yourself. Pursing your lips, you respond carefully. “Well… it is your name, isn’t it?” Somehow, your gaze finds your interlaced hands. By the time you look back up, you realize Donghyuck was also staring.

A soft smile graces the tips of his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

For a moment, a short moment, Haechan is forgotten. All that exists at the park with you is Donghyuck, your best friend since age eight when he had pushed you too hard on the swings and caused you to fracture your ankle. You had always blamed it on him in the following years, but it was never his fault.

It was always yours, for not being brave enough.

Even now, Hyuck pushes you on the swings after you give him a pointed look which clearly says, “Not too hard.” The force of his push reminds you how big of a role adrenaline once played in your life. Hyuck was your daily dose of adrenaline, of energy you never knew was missing from your life until it was gone. Now, he’s back again.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourself lying on the grass gazing up at the stars, in a similar situation that your younger selves once experienced. You’re content to sit there staring at the glistening firmament above, but his velvet voice fills the silence between you.

“Is Mark a good best friend?”

His question catches you off guard. It could be a trick of your mind but is that… jealousy you hear in his tone? “Yeah, he is.” You nod, the cold breeze brushing your face. “He’s nice. Understanding… I’m just not looking forward to having to spend the next year without him after he graduates.”

“You don’t have to,” Hyuck replies quickly. You turn to meet his gaze, and find that he’s gazing at you with serious eyes. “You can spend it with me.”

The thought, however hopeful, causes a twinge of doubt to ignite within you. “What about the others?”

“What about them?”

“Are they good best friends?”

Like you, Hyuck takes a long moment to ponder over his answer. “They’re not my best friends,” he finally says when he comes to a conclusion. “They were always just placeholders. Just… people to spend time with.”

“Spend time as in vandalizing, smoking weed, and skipping school?”

He releases a scoff at your response, as though the idea sounded absurd to him as well. “Well… yeah. I guess that’s what it seems like.” You’ve never been the type to do those kinds of things, always too afraid of losing your self control for even a moment, so you ask: “What’s it like? Smoking weed?”

Your inquiry seems to throw him for a loop. You had always been quiet, comfortable living in a box which you knew to be safe. It was always him who had wanted to explore. He turns away from you and instead throws his gaze to the dark sky, though you remain watching him and the way the grass brushes his side profile from where he lays.

“It’s like… searching for something. You don’t quite know what you’re looking for. I don’t know—Nirvana, epiphanies, the meaning of life, or whatever. And for a second,” he pauses, his eyes matching the twinkle of the stars in the sky, but it’s a somber reflection. “When you reach that high, it’s… it’s amazing. It really is. You feel… calm. And relaxed, a bunch of things I’ve never felt before. But when you get used to it, and you come down from that high… it just feels… empty.”

Emptiness isn’t something you’d ever think Hyuck has experienced. In your memories he was always so bright-eyed and lighthearted, filling you up with everything you needed. Had you forgotten how to fill him up? Make him happy? Or, your hopeful heart suddenly asks, are you the emptiness in his heart? When he left you, was that when his heart had begun to feel hollow, as yours had? When had things changed so much, when had the two of you grown up? It seems just like yesterday that you were two little kids with hopes bigger than the world could hold, still playing on the playground.

Suddenly you lurch toward him, closing the space between you to lay shoulder to shoulder. The simple brush of your shoulder on his, a feeling that was once so familiar, speaks volumes to the both of you. “I wish things could go back to the way they were before.”

He sighs, a sound that’s supposed to somehow indicate that your words are easier said than done. “If only life was that easy.”

A thoughtful moment of silence passes over the two of you, the cold night air brushing on your bare arms. Your hoodies often kept you warm, but you don’t have them now. Instead, you have Donghyuck. “Are you cold?” He asks as he notices you shivering at a sudden strong gust of wind. You shake your head, not wanting him to give his flannel to you, but he does something else instead. “C’mere,” is all he says as he scoops you into his arms on the ground and presses your head into his chest.

You start to argue at first but you soon find yourself resting your head on the expanse of his chest. Eyes widened ever so slightly as you try to maintain the erratic beat of your heart, you whine quietly, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah,” you scoff gently with a roll of your eyes. “When we were ten and forgot our jackets.”

“Not much difference,” Hyuck responds. Suddenly a teasing tone occupies his voice, almost reminiscent of Haechan’s persona. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You have the decency to be shocked, hitting his chest softly, playfully. “As if.”

He says things aren’t much different, but they are. Back then, things were simpler and easier. Your best friend was just your best friend. But now, seven years later, he’s a boy and an attractive one—that much you can admit. And, you have a history that makes your heart wrench; you had come to terms with the fact that you would no longer be able to envelope yourself in Hyuck’s bear hugs anymore, that sleepovers with him would be further nonexistent.

Hyuck doesn’t say anything after your hasty response, and it seems like he’s satisfied sitting in the silence with you, but you aren’t. Gently you speak up, “Hyuck.”

“Hmm,” he responds, eyes closed rather than gazing at the star-stricken sky.

“What’s your dream?”

He takes a moment to think about it. A couple seconds pass with his eyes still closed, and you turn your head to gaze up at his contemplative expression with tufts of dark grass tickling his ears. A couple minutes pass like this.

You’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep right there, so you prod once again. “So?”

Hyuck takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone has a dream,” your brows furrow.

The next words to leave your best friend’s mouth sadden you to no end. His voice is soft but his tone is tired, as if he has all but given up. “I think somewhere along the line I stopped dreaming, wishing for things. It’s not the reality I’ve grown to know.”

By the end of the night, when the two of you arrive at your home, you’re starting to believe that a reconciliation with your best friend is possible. All these years, they were just… a break. A time for the two of you to learn yourselves and meet new people.

As he walks you to your front door, swinging your interlaced pinkies between the two of you, you speak first. The night, however sudden and strange, was nice. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” he quickly replies as he turns to face you though he doesn’t let go of your hand, your pinkies hooked around each other like a little unsaid pledge.

“I really missed you,” you confess. Before tonight you had never allowed yourself to consider how much you missed your best friend, how his absence left a gap in your life. “I want to do it again sometime.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen just a bit, and he blinks as though surprised. “You do?”

Giddily you bite down on your lower lip and nod. “I really do.”

His shocked eyes soften like sweet yellow honey, and he mirrors your smile. Here with the front porch light shining on his tanned skin and some lingering grass strands tangled in his hair, he doesn’t look like the cruel Haechan you’ve seen over your time in high school. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Why are you saying thank you?” you ask, a slight smile on your lips. “It should be me saying thank you.”

“I’m just glad you came along,” he explains, tapping his foot gently against the cement. “Taeyong would have gotten me in trouble if I hadn’t asked you to come.”

You blink. What?

“I’m just really glad you agreed to go out with me today. Even though I had no choice, I think it was really good for us, and I’d love to do it a—”

“Hyuck.”

He stops suddenly, having begun to ramble, and stares at you. “What?”

Anxiety begins to creep into your stomach, building a dark heavy pit. As your breath quickens, coming to your realization, you fall into the dark abyss of that hole. You tear your gaze away from him, your eyebrows forming a tight line as the gears in your head turn.

As he recognizes the way your chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, Hyuck leans toward you. “Y/N, are you—”

“What do you mean, you had no choice?”

“You’re shaking, you should go inside—”

You tear your hand from his, trying your best to control your accelerated breathing. Finally looking back at him, you feel despair begin to bubble inside you. “What the hell do you mean, you had no choice, Donghyuck?”

The look on his face is almost dumbstruck. He opens his mouth but no words come out. He closes it quickly, then parts his lips again after a moment. “I… I thought you knew…”

“Knew what?”

“That Taeyong hyung made me do it.”

If it’s possible for your entire world to crash in the fraction of a moment, it must be this. Suddenly your lungs feel heavy with burden and your eyes water, watching your ill-fated hope shatter before you. You want to scream at him, to yell at him, but you can’t find your voice. By your side, your hand which was once occupied by his, feels awfully, horribly cold.

Hyuck, on the other hand, still looks stupefied that you had no idea. Stuttering over his words, uncharacteristic of him, he continues desperately. “I-I… They know about us, about our friendship, and Taeyong hyung told me to ask you on a date or…or he’d make me deliver his next package. I already got caught once, I couldn’t get caught again! I couldn’t risk it,” he pleads.

Weed. That’s what this is all about.

“It was just for fun, they thought it was funny.”

Your throat feels dry, parched like the desert, and your voice feels like sandpaper as you speak. “I didn’t think it was funny.” A lonesome tear breaks the barrier, sliding down your cheek pitifully before being followed by another.

Clearly startled by the course of the conversation, he desperately reaches out to grab your hand. “Y/N, please let me explain—”

You whip your hand back, his touch making your skin crawl with betrayal.

“You’ve done enough.”

Of all the things he could say, he says the worst. “I thought you heard everything that day, in the courtyard.”

“I…” You start thinking back foggily. “I had my airpods on.” The pained look he wears at his realization of this would have been laughable if your tears weren’t threatening to flow down your cheeks.

All you want to do is run. Run inside, run away from him, run from this night and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But for some reason, your feet are stuck to the cement as though something holds you down. Burden-like weights, holding you down.

“I, I’m sorry,” he beseeches, only making it worse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You want to yell at him, to curse him into the next life for playing with you. For not knowing your character enough to think that for even a second, you’d be okay being a pawn in his game of dealing and dares. For giving you hope, even the slightest burning sliver. But you can’t raise your voice at him. Rather than fury, it’s sadness which erupts in your chest. You cannot find it in yourself to scream. Because he did, he did hurt you.

This must be the emptiness he was talking about.

Any sense of blankness you thought you knew before was nothing to this. As if your heart and mind itself have been ripped out of you, you’re overcome by a horrible, horrible hollowness. Then, looking at his pitiful figure, you realize that you want nothing to do with Lee Donghyuck any longer. Whoever he is, good or bad, best friend or stranger, Haechan or Hyuck, he is no longer important to you.

Wiping your tears against the back of your hand with an indignant sniffle, you scowl at him, but there is no anger, no resentment. Just exhaustion. You’re tired of his lies.

“Leave me alone, Haechan. Leave me alone, and don’t ever bother me again. I can’t believe I—” You stop yourself. You can’t believe you had believed, even for the shortest moment, that things would be okay. No, not with him, nothing would ever be okay. Nothing would ever be true, nothing would ever be pure. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how close you were to falling into him.

All you do is stare once more at his cowardly figure then turn away, hiding your tears which you refuse to let him see. Just as you’re about to turn to disappear into your house however, he reaches for your wrist.

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you say softly. If he truly is your best friend, if he had ever known you for even a second, he would be able to recognize the pain in your voice, the fragility with which you’re about to break.

But if he was ever your best friend, by now you can never truly know.

For a third and final time, you tug your hand from his touch. “Don’t. I mean it.”

Then you disappear into your home, flying up the stairs to the confusion of your parents, and leave Donghyuck there alone, stranded and in the dark.

There was a reason why you never liked parties growing up, and why you tried avoiding them at all cost, but today is different. Today is for Mark, you have to suck it up and enjoy yourself at least for him. Besides, since hitting twenty three you’ve been trying to “adult” more, and that means putting other people’s desires before your own.

You’re sitting on a couch in the bar, clutching a water bottle when you hear Mark’s voice in your ear. “Hey, you made it!”

Immediately you turn and feel your lips spread into a wide smile at the sight of your best friend looking completely ecstatic. Standing quickly, you collapse into his open arms. He pulls you tightly into a hug and you smile feeling his familiar embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say when you pull away. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, really.”

The beaming smile he wears back at you makes your heart warm. “Thanks, and thanks for coming! I thought you weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

“I cleared my schedule for you,” you admit cheekily.

“Aw, I must be so special,” responds Mark playfully, pulling you in for another quick hug. Mark has just been signed onto a record company as a producer. It’s only his biggest dream ever, and you couldn’t be prouder. His record label had insisted on throwing a party to welcome their newest hire, and from the smile on his face, it seemed like all his dreams had come true.

“But enough about me, how are you?”

With your busy post-college schedule, you’ve had little time to meet your best friend. “Just the usual. Work, eat, sleep.”

“Hey, at least you sleep, I’m up all night, every night working on music.”

“I believe that was your career choice,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

Mark laughs along with you. “I guess you’re right.” He suddenly eyes the water bottle in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking at my party.”

“I—”

“No excuses! It’s a Saturday night, don’t say you have work tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Sounds like an excuse, you better go to the bar right now and get a drink.”

“I’m—”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You finally acquiesce, rolling your eyes at your friend’s behavior. “Do you want me to grab you something?”

He ponders it momentarily, sitting down in the spot on the couch you occupied earlier. “Just one of what you’re getting,” he says, already making conversation with the other person on the couch, one of his new coworkers.

You make your way over to the bar counter, basically shoving past the numerous people occupying the bar. With the prestige of the company that Mark has just been hired into, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were brushing shoulders with celebrities in your search for the bar.

When you finally find a spot at the crowded counter, you attempt to speak over the music to one of the two bartenders maintaining the counter. Flashing your ID at him, you sound, “Two Negronis, one with light ice!” You’re in the mood for gin tonight. You would have gotten your typical gin on the rocks, but you’re feeling a bit fancy and with the open bar, you’re fine not paying for the extra pizazz of a Negroni.

The one you originally speak to seems occupied but he hears you, nodding at you. As you pull out your phone to wait for your order, you register him calling out to someone, likely the other bartender with him. “Take care of that,” he says, likely referring to your order.

Only a few moments pass of you attempting to type out a text until you hear it.

Though it’s not loud, you hear it. Above the music, above the crowd.

“Y/N?”

Eyes leaving your phone screen, you find yourself face to face, eye to eye, with Lee Donghyuck himself. In front of you on the other side of the bar counter, clad in a dark apron and clutching a tall bottle of gin, with his light brain hair, tendrils falling over his eyes, it’s almost like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him. Your gaze hasn’t fallen on him in years, not since graduation, watching him walk across the stage. Your jaw visibly tightens.

“Y/N, is that really you?”

“Who else would it be,” you joke tightly, deciding momentarily to play nice for now.

The laugh he shares is almost believable. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been…”

“Five years,” you finish for him.

Astounded, all he does is nod. “Yeah…”

The last thing you want to do is sit here and take part in a tired conversation with Donghyuck of all people, so you make a show of pointing your attention to your phone as you type a couple text messages. He seems to get the hint, and busies himself making your drinks.

Despite the buzzing bar environment around the two of you, there’s no doubt of the tension in the air. The last time you had spoken to Donghyuck, you had demanded that he leave you alone. For the most part, he had complied. But now, five years later, you have to ask yourself, have you forgiven him?

In the past years since your final falling out you’ve somehow learned to manage the emptiness that sprung inside you, yet now seeing him, you feel something other than hollowness, a swallow feeling in your chest. Are you… ready?

Within minutes he slides two glasses across the counter to you, red liquid occupying its volume. As you tuck your phone away into your purse and reach out to grab your two drinks, it’s clear to you that he has something more to say from the way his eyes linger on the glasses.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you…” He starts, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly pauses, as though thinking over his words. “You got two glasses. Are you… here with someone?”

He’s curious if you’ve found someone. If you’ve brought them here and if they’ve managed to replace the empty space in your heart once occupied by him. You purse your lips, offering a tight smile as you shake your head. “No, one of these is for Mark.”

You’re unsure if the look on his face at your answer is a relieved one, but you’re sure it won’t bring about good things. “Oh,” he says. “That’s… interesting.” What is that supposed to mean? You have no idea, but when you’re about to turn and make your way back to your friend who is surely waiting for you, he speaks up again. “I have my break in thirty minutes. Can we… talk maybe?”

Talk. He wants to talk, but at this point you’ve learned that accepting any offer from Donghyuck will only lead to trouble. What is there to talk about? Will he apologize? You’ve already told him that you don’t want his apologies. Will he try to fix things? Regardless you’re sure that whatever it is, he will attempt to make his way back into your life, your life that you had worked so hard to create without him.

Every atom, every part of you screams at you to reject him.

But perhaps it’s the heavy feeling in your chest that tells you to say yes. You have unsaid words, words you have held within you for years, and now you might finally have the courage to say them.

Cautiously, you nod. “Fine. Thirty minutes?”

He’s visibly relieved at your easy agreement, and bobs his head in response. “Thirty minutes.”

Because you’re made uncomfortable by his gaze you feel the need to thank him for the drinks in your hands. With a slight gulp you hold the glasses up in a slight gesture. “Thank you for the drinks… Haechan.” His name feels foreign on your tongue.

“Oh, it’s just Donghyuck now. I stopped going by that name a long time ago.”

Over the following thirty minutes, barely sipping on your drink, you try to recollect all you’ve ever felt about Lee Donghyuck.

Once upon a time, he was your playground buddy. Pushing you on the swing high above the play area, he showed you the most thrill an eight year old could have. His excitement did lead to your broken ankle of course, but he had carried your backpack for eight weeks after that.

For many years he was the person you considered to be your best friend. The only person you could trust to share secrets with, like how your first kiss was with Huang Renjun of all people and how you were still, after all these years, afraid of the heights that came along with flying high on the swings.

In high school he was almost an enemy to you, someone you disregarded. Someone you had no respect for, with his smoking habits and dyed neon purple hair.

Then, for the shortest moment so fleeting it felt like a blink of an eye, he was someone you wanted. Someone you desired, someone you could have seen a future with not as a best friend but as a… partner. Laying there in the wet grass beneath the stars with your head on his chest and his voice in your ears, you could have accepted him. Could have forgiven all the distance between you and made it work. Could have become one again.

Then in the moment of truth all you could remember was anger and the pain of the betrayal. At that moment you were set on cutting Donghyuck out of your life. You could no longer take his lies, his habit of coming and going as he pleased. You cut him off.

But that didn’t mean he no longer occupied your thoughts.

Now, standing in front of him in a private room somewhere in the bar, you realize you no longer have anger for him. He is just someone who has hurt you, someone who is part of your past. From the way he gazes at you, he wants you in his future.

You’ve long since graduated from your hoodies and leggings. Now you don a dress, comfortable but also dressy enough for the occasion. But just because you’ve grown doesn’t mean you want him to watch you the way he does.

“You look nice,” he starts. Familiarity rings in your mind, and you purse your lips slightly.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” retorts Donghyuck quickly.

“Sometimes it’d be nice to hear a compliment not involving my appearance from you,” you respond almost a bit too harshly.

Taking the loud hint, he quiets and doesn’t continue the topic. Instead he asks, “How are you?”

Unable to control the lilted chuckle that leaves your lips, you raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s what you brought me here for?” There’s no hostility in your tone, yet he winces.

“Well, uh… yeah. I just—we haven’t talked since—”

“Since you broke my heart?”

This seems to be news to him, because his eyes widen ever so slightly, outlined slightly in dark kohl that seems reminiscent of your high school days. “I broke your heart?”

He didn’t know. It’s almost laughable and you could almost be upset at him for not knowing just how strong of an effect he’s had on your entire life, if not for the fact that he looks absolutely pitiful, staring with wide eyes at the damage he’s done. You gulp, and nod tightly. “Yeah, you did.” After a moment, you add, “Tore it to pieces.”

A timeline of silence persists, before he speaks, voice low. “I’m sorry.”

He even sounds it, and from the way he looks, still clad in his apron and standing straight in front of you whilst you’re leaning on the wall, you could believe it. But at this point you’ve learned better than to believe anything that comes out of his mouth. Has he matured? Perhaps, but something tells you that he’s still the same kid you’ve known since the time before you could do long division.

Yet despite this, perhaps to settle the disruptive fire in your heart that has been burning, aching since the moment you turned your back on him, you nod. “I forgive you.”

Still, you continue with a scoff. “You didn’t even know. Didn’t even know that every single relationship, every promise, every smile from anyone since I’ve met you, I’ve had to reconsider. You didn’t even know, probably still don’t, how hard it is to trust someone, anyone. You were my best friend, Hyuck, and you betrayed me. How was that supposed to make me feel? Especially when you didn’t even come find me after that? You just… expected to just get away with it? You thought it’d be easy to just leave and never say anything, never apologize?”

He simply stands there, eyes trained to the ground in what seems to be shame as he takes in your words. You’re not done.

“And to think, I almost thought that things could go back to normal, that we could be friends again. Maybe…” You catch yourself on your words. You had never admitted them out loud. “Maybe even—even…”

His eyes move up to meet yours.

“Maybe even more,” you finally release in a breath.

“More?” The familiar emotion of surprise flashes over his dark ochre stained eyes. “You… you wanted to be with me?”

The truth is, yes. You did. In some way, perhaps you still do. You’ve always wanted him, you’ve always been ready to freefall into him at any moment. But he doesn’t deserve it.

“I really wanted to. But clearly that’s not possible at this point.”

“No—” He runs a ring adorned hand through his dark locks, a contrast from the neon purple you associated with him. Other things you associate with him—sadness, betrayal, lies, yet still stars in a night sky. “Y/N, I… I love you. I’ve always loved you. I meant it when I said you were my only best friend, you’re the only one. Not Taeyong, or Johnny, or Jaehyun, or anyone. It’s always been you.”

He… loved you.

It hits you like a truck because as much as he claims it, he has a horrible way of showing it. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, fuck—I swear. I know I was a horrible friend, and I know I hurt you. Y/N, please, please listen to me. Please believe me.” Suddenly he’s grasping at your hands, beseeching you with pleading eyes. “I’m different, I promise. I’m not that old me, I’m better. I can be better.”

You rip your hands from his grasp.

“I said don’t lie to me! I told you to stop making promises you can’t keep. You’re doing it again, just like always did. You had your chance, and you lost it. You lost me, Hyuck, it’s over.” He stares at you with widened eyes at your sudden outburst, his brows and lips downturned in an expression of sadness. “I was always willing to make things better, I was ready to take you back the moment you stepped in front of me that day at school and forced me to go on a date with you. I never stopped loving you, and you never stopped being my favorite person, Hyuck. But this—” you say, gesturing to the two of you. “—was doomed from the start.”

You sigh, but this time you calm yourself with a breath and grab at his hands, though you had pulled away from him earlier. “It could have been, you and me. We could have been the perfect trope of childhood best friends who fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, but that was clearly always out of the question for us. And it’s okay, Hyuck. It’s okay. It’s okay that we’ve grown apart, and that you’ve hurt me more times than I can count, and that we won’t be able to fulfill that fantasy. It’s okay, it really is. Please, just… accept it.”

The way he stares at you, the passion that he holds in his eyes causes a yearning feeling to infiltrate your heart. Yet your mind is clear enough for you to discern it’s not him that you miss, it’s the simpler times with him that you long for.

His eyes are pleading when he finally opens his mouth to respond. “You’ve called me Hyuck four times now. That leads me to think that it’s possible. We’re possible, Y/N…”

“I called you that because it’s your name,” you tell him softly, eyes moving down to where your hands are comfortingly rubbing small circles on his skin. He still has the most rough, callused hands you’ve ever felt in your life. “And because I’m going to choose to remember you as Hyuck, my best friend. Not Donghyuck, the kid who pushed me off the swings. Not Haechan, the boy who hurt me. Just Hyuck, my best friend who… made me happy for a really long time, and who will always,” you say with a slight squeeze to his hands. “Always be special to me.”

His eyes are soft as you look back up to find him. “Y/N…”

“I’ve got to go,” you tell him with a small smile. Finally, everything you’ve needed to say for years has been said.

The tears which layer upon his eyes are evident to the both of you, though you choose not to comment on it. You’re his best friend, and you’re about to walk out of his life. The last thing you offer is a comforting squeeze to his hands before you tear away from him, making your way to the door.

“Y/N.”

You stop, not saying anything before his voice pervades through the silence of the room, despite the raucous party outside. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

This time, you really believe him.

You slide the key into the keyhole and unlock the door, twisting the doorknob as you step into your apartment. To no surprise, it’s dark and empty. With a sigh leaving your throat, you slip in and slide off your shoes.

As you make your way through the apartment you flick on the lights you pass to observe your home, before clicking them off to immerse yourself in the temporary darkness again. In the hallway, books and various clutter have been arranged carefully on the shelves. Entering the living room, you take note of the way the couch cushions have been straightened and a folded blanket rests neatly on one of the lounge chairs, awaiting your arrival. A quick glance to the kitchen tells you that the floor’s been mopped and the dishes put away.

A small smile pervades across your face.

Finally, the bedroom.

Your calm, harmonious smile remains present on your face as you slip into the walk in closet, allowing the fabric of your dress to slide off your figure. Instead, you reach for your pajama bottoms and a thin tank top.

After brushing your teeth and clearing your visage of any remaining makeup, you peel off the blanket and glide into the space between the comforter and the mattress. Finally, you’re home.

You’re closing your eyes, ready to fall asleep with a newfound peace, when a hand slides around your waist. Your smile grows wider as you turn in your spot to meet the sleepy face of your fiance, Jaemin.

“Hey,” he hums tiredly.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you,” you respond lightly, pressing a kiss to his nose.

A small shake of his head and a smile is all that’s needed to settle your guilt of waking him. “It’s okay,” he says while pulling you closer to him, gathering you into his chest.

“You cleaned the apartment,” you muse in amazement at him.

The sound which comes out of him is both smug and proud. “I did. And did you have fun?”

You nod. “I did.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice. I… I met Donghyuck.”

This piques his interest. “Oh? Your best friend from high school who broke your heart?”

A pitiful laugh leaves your chest, and you nod once more. “Yeah, that one.”

“Mm, how was that? Do I need to go punch someone, teach him a lesson?” His words intend to sound menacing, but the fatigue in his tone only makes you chuckle.

“No, honey, it’s okay really. I… I told him how I feel.”

“How’d he take it?” He asks, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. He’s more than knowledgeable about your heart wrenching past toward your friend.

“It was difficult for the both of us but I think everything’s okay. Finally.”

You don’t have to look, but you know he’s smiling.

Where Hyuck is a dark night sky of stars, signifying all the possibilities of the universe, Jaemin is the dawn; the sun reappearing after an arduous night to bring you hope. Where Hyuck is a world of lies, Jaemin is your truth.

He had struggled for many years to make you see, to make you forget the scars that your time with Hyuck had inflicted on your heart. Though you had worried for many years that you were unlovable, Jaemin taught you the opposite.

He is the truth, he is all that’s good, and he is yours.

“Yeah, finally. I’m proud of you, honey. Can we sleep now?”

A laugh leaves your lips, and you nod. “Yeah, go back to sleep, love. Goodnight.” With this, he presses a kiss to your forehead. This small touch, the slightest brush of his lips over your skin, causes a world of love and emotion to erupt within your chest.

So, you say proudly, “I love you.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, replying within a second. “I love you too, with everything I am.”

With your entire heart, you believe him. You have no reason to doubt him.

He is your last and final truth.

988 notes · View notes

kokichixreaderthings · 2 years

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Hey dude I'm not like a regular follower or anything but I like telling this story so here it is I had this massive unrequited crush on this guy I went to high school with (This is 5ish years in my past). I thought he was the most mellow, relaxing person to be around and he was so fkin pretty. I consider myself to be a pretty easygoing person so I was fine with just being friends with this dude but I still really idolized him, thought he was perfect and all that. Always super funny. Still occasionally think about things like "what if I ran into him one day?". Anyway, the last day I was him was on our last show night together, (we were in theatre). There was no huge goodbye or anything because we were supposed to be there for set takedown the next day. He ended up not showing up, had some unrelated personal thing come up. I later found out this guy was high literally every time I talked to him. Just all the time. When he wasn't high he had these character flaws, still a great guy but just wasn't perfect. I actually have reason to believe his whole laid back digital nomad personality was a front, but whether he was playing a character or just being candid I still liked that person a whole lot. In retrospect, I should have seen that coming. Saw the guy cry once because he missed taco bell breakfast and he always smelled like incense. So I guess I have two points. First, everyone is human and nobody is going to be the perfect person for you/ someone else/ etc. There's a lot of great people out there and some of them are meant to be your friends and some of them are meant to be more. Second point is to enjoy all the time you have with people in your life. "Never go to bed angry" type of lifestyle, ya know? Play the cards the universe gives you. Don't ask for new cards, you won't get them. Just do what you can with what you got. Does that make sense?

okay but how did you know i have an unrequited crush right now-

like that was some good advice-

also asdfklaiashhkakwoijsjzj thank u for telling me this story!! it was super entertaining!! it sounds like a movie plot or something😳

#that guy’s life must be so interesting #being high all the time

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hazymultiverse · 4 years

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN?! i need sum child au for bucci squad!!

What’s this? A stand hits all of your teammates and now you have to take care of them! It’s as if they’ve been turned back in time!

Bruno Bucciarati: It’s a bit disconcerting at first, because despite being a child, Bruno doesn’t act especially different. Just a less confident and sure of himself version of the adult Bucciarati, he’ll do his best to keep everyone in line, and you honestly have to beg him to relax a moment and not have to feel like he needs to be in charge. In reality, he’s probably just getting ready to take over in case you decide to give up on him and leave. Eventually, when he finally lets himself settle down and trust you, he’s a charming, charismatic, weird as hell kid. He pokes things to find out what they are, knows everything there is to know about fish and sailing, and can do some astoundingly accurate animal impressions. You didn’t know a kid could do a vocal fish impression, but there goes Bruno.

Leone Abbacchio: Upon finding your most stoic, grumpy, all around grinch of a teammate as a child, you’d expected to deal with tantrums and sulking, but instead you were met with a wide eyed dreamer. He’s happy to meet you, his name is Leone, and someday, he’s gonna be a police officer! Of that, he assures you. The type of kid that won’t eat his vegetables unless you mention that his favorite heroes eat theirs, then he’ll eat them without fuss. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up to you, though he’s quick to say that just because you’re friends doesn’t mean he’s going soft. He’s a big boy, he’s not gonna cuddle with you while you watch a movie, and he definitely doesn’t fall asleep on your lap if you play with his hair. If somehow you find yourself in that position, don’t mention it to him later, he gets embarrassed.

Pannacotta Fugo: A shockingly smart kid, but doesn’t know how to talk to people or make friends, unlike the friendly man he grows into, he’ll never start a conversation. The fact you reach out to him and talk to him like a normal person is enough to have him stuck to your side for good, being treated like a kid instead of some prodigy to carry on the family legacy, it’s the best he’s ever felt. Let the boy talk to you! He’ll ramble about anything and everything, and to be allowed to talk about what interests him instead of what he’s ‘supposed’ to be learning is his favorite thing. He’ll get really frustrated if he can’t remember words, or if he messes up anything he helps you with, so be patient with him, and just try to show him it’s alright to make mistakes.

Guido Mista: Oh boy, this kid never stops talking. Never. He’s always covered in dirt, and you never really know what he’s been doing, because when you ask he starts telling this story about how he was in the garden, when suddenly three ninjas jumped out and fought him- by the end of the story he’s slain a dragon and saved a really pretty princess, but don’t worry, he made it back in time for snacks, can he have extra? ‘Fighting for the kingdom’ makes him real hungry. Not ashamed in the slightest of wanting your attention, he thinks you’re really pretty, and when he grows up, he wants to marry you. Real easygoing. You can see a few of his superstitions blossoming, he never steps on sidewalk cracks and he’s careful of which shoe he puts on first. He’s also the type of kid to ask you the weirdest questions and not accept “I don’t know” as an answer.

Narancia Ghirga: Always trying to show off and be like the ‘big kids’, but in reality, the kid just needs a hug. He hangs around Bruno the most, just looking for an older figure that he can follow and trust. He’s quiet, almost worryingly so around you, and despite the riskiness of some of his stunts, never wants you to check if he’s hurt, as if you’ll notice something wrong with him. Thankfully, like most young boys, he can bounce back from literally anything with barely a scratch. Let him fly a kite, or make paper airplanes and he’ll be occupied for hours. Wonders aloud about how they fly, and Fugo starts explaining to him in detail about aerodynamics. You can tell that Nara has no idea what Fugo is saying, but is enrapured by it anyways.

Giorno Giovanna: Another weird one, he’s quiet, and looks shocked whenever you address him, as if he expected you to forget his existence. After genuinely asking him some questions and offering to get one of his favorite foods, he’ll near jump into your arms and start shaking. You aren’t sure what’s going on, but, he practically begs you to keep holding him the rest of the day. Let him nap with you, or just have him help you make lunch, he’ll be the happiest he’s ever been in his life. Doesn’t talk much, and when he does, he has an odd accent, and seems to stumble a bit through his Italian.

#sfw #this turned out sadder than i expected sorry #bucci gang #child au

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Blue Lightning

This is a sequel to Pink Frosting and while it should be mostly self-explanatory, it will make more sense if you read that story first.

Happy birthday to one of our lovely, dedicated fandom cheerleaders and fellow writer, @bloody-no-kissu! I'm a bit late but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

This fic was inspired by a few things. One of the @mlweeklyprompts a few weeks back was Trope: Blankets/Shirt Collar Shifting Just Enough To Have Bandages Peeking Out, and there was also this really cool video of a strong lady dancing in roller skates going around, plus it was Bloody's birthday and she inspired the original Pink Frosting fic, so all of those influences just came together to inspire and motivate this fic. I hope you enjoy!

Read it on AO3 | Fiction Master Post

Luka hummed to himself as he left the boat, which wasn’t unusual, but there was an extra bounce in his step as he began the familiar trek to the T&S Bakery. Because it was Wednesday, and Wednesday was his unofficial date night with his extremely very official girlfriend.

Girlfriend. The grin that split his face wasn’t at all in line with his reputation for being calm and easygoing. He and Marinette were dating. Luka would never get tired of that thought. He was dating Marinette and she was his girlfriend and it was everything he’d ever pictured in idle, wistful daydreams.

Man, he felt lucky. He’d been in love with Marinette for years, but no matter how close they became as friends, she never seemed ready to cross that line. Luka had just accepted that it wasn’t going to happen, and tried to just be the best friend he could be to her, right up until she flung herself right across that line and into his arms and kissed the daylights out of him. It still gave him goosebumps thinking about it, even though they’d been dating for months now.

Luka greeted Sabine on his way through the bakery, waving to Tom behind her, and then puffed his way up the frankly indecent number of stairs it took to reach Marinette’s room. Her door was open and he knew she was expecting him, so he just called a greeting as he peeked in cautiously.

“Hi, Luka,” Marinette said distractedly. She was leaning half into her closet, reaching for something above her head. “One sec, I just need to get this down.”

“Do you need a hand?” Luka asked, lips quirking in amusement as he came the rest of the way into the room. Marinette gave him a dirty look over her shoulder and he just grinned innocently back at her, folding his arms across his chest.

“No, I got it,” she grunted, rising up on her toes and catching the edge of the box with the tips of her fingers. Luka’s eyes automatically flicked to the hem of her shirt as it rode up, expecting a glimpse of toned muscle rippling under smooth skin, but that wasn’t the view he got.

“Here we go,” Marinette sighed, bringing her heels back down and turning to set the box on her desk.

Luka was beside her before he’d even made a conscious decision to move. He caught her arm and lifted it out of the way, pulling her shirt up to expose her side.

“Luka!” she gasped, jerking away and shoving her shirt back down, but they both knew it was too late.

Luka straightened and looked at her, lips tight. She blushed and folded her arms, turning away from him a little, tugging the hem of her shirt lower. Not that it mattered. He’d already seen, and as much as he preferred to let Marinette have her space and come to him when she was ready to talk about things...but, well, he was human, and seeing her hurt was not something he could just let go.

“Marinette,” Luka said, his voice tight though he tried to keep it calm. “What happened?”

“Nothing important,” Marinette shrugged, and then she shrank under his gaze. “I just fell.”

“How hard did you fall,” Luka asked, one fist clenching as bad memories flooded in, “That you needed bandages on your ribs?”

Marinette pressed her lips together and stepped back from him a little. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe not,” he sighed, fighting the urge to catch her and pull her back. “I’d like to think by now you should have a little faith that I’ll try, though.”

She blushed at that, and looked ashamed, her gaze falling to her feet. Luka sighed again and forced his fingers open, then tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “Just tell me, Marinette,” he said, some of the hurt he was trying to hide seeping into his voice. “Do you really feel like whatever happened is so bad that you can’t share it with me? Haven’t I always supported you?”

Her eyes flicked up to the pink-tipped locks falling over his forehead, and she flushed with shame. “Of course you have,” she murmured, shoulders slumping.

“Then please, trust that I’ll be here for you however you need,” Luka urged, letting his hand fall to take hers. He tugged her gently over to her chaise and they sat down together as Luka considered his words. “I’ve always tried to let you talk about things in your own time, but I’m really kind of scared right now. I haven’t seen you hide an injury like this since—” Since she’d been fighting supervillains and bullies on the regular. Not that he was supposed to know about that first part. “Since the bad days.”

“No,” Marinette sighed, bringing her hands up to frame his face. “It’s not—not like that, Luka. It’s just...well...stupid. I feel stupid. I did something stupid and I didn’t want to tell you and now you’re upset with me.”

“I’m upset that you were hiding that you were hurt,” Luka told her, putting his hands over hers. “I—you know I hate to pressure you, but you’re hurt and I’m not feeling very reasonable about it.”

Marinette chewed her lip and looked away with a sigh and a defeated expression. “It’s really not a big deal. Not like you’re thinking anyway. I really did just fall. On my skates.”

Luka blinked. “Your roller skates?” he asked stupidly, and Marinette rolled her eyes at him.

“Yes, my roller skates. I was wearing pads but I...well I was trying a trick I saw one of the other girls do, but I didn’t land it, and I hit the rail on my side, and…” And she had enough experience with rib injuries after everything that happened that she’d just taped herself up and gone on. But—

“So this happened at derby practice?” Luka asked, confused about why she would try to hide it, especially if the rest of the team knew.

Marinette winced. “No. After derby practice. After everyone else was gone.”

Luka’s frown deepened. “You tried a new trick without anyone spotting you? Without anyone even coaching you? While you were alone?”

Marinette sighed, pulling her hands away and turning away from him. “And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Luka sat there for a moment, lips pressed together, and then he stood up abruptly. “I need a minute,” he said shortly, crossing her room and jerking open the trap door. He went down the stairs quickly, and paced in the living room where he didn’t have to hide the thunderous expression on his face. Part of him wanted to yell at her, to lecture her, to tell her how stupid and irresponsible that had been, and what if she had hit her head and there had been no one there to find her? He knew from his own ice skating experience that you couldn’t just pick up a jump without coaching, without having someone to break it down for you and show you how to achieve it safely.

And why would she do something like that, especially after how hard she had to work to convince her friends and family that she could be trusted on skates at all without killing herself? She finally convinced them, all of them, that she wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen, that she could actually be good at something physical. Luka had seen it; he’d been there at every bout and seen the way her friends had slowly gone from skepticism to grudging respect to enthusiasm.

Finally, Luka stopped pacing and put his hands over his face, taking a moment to breathe and calm down. He needed to hear Marinette out and freaking out wasn’t going to do anybody any good. The last thing he wanted to do was damage her trust in him.

She looked miserable when he came back into her room, curled in on herself, one hand on her injured side and staring at the floor. It broke his heart a little and Luka sighed to himself as he crossed over to her, sitting back down in his place beside her. He cupped her cheek and raised her face so he could look in her eyes. Her lashes were wet and he hated it.

Luka leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she liked, but she only closed her eyes and let her cheek sink more solidly into his palm. Luka kissed her softly, and she pressed into him, clutching at his hoodie for a moment. He slipped his other arm carefully around her and focused on his feelings for her, kissing her as tenderly as he knew how. I’m here, he thought at her, I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe and I love you. I won’t leave you.

Slowly she relaxed against him, tension easing out of her as they kissed and kissed again. She got like this, sometimes, afraid she would suddenly be too much for him, that he couldn’t possibly love her at her lowest—as if he hadn’t loved her through every up and down for years, even if they’d only gotten together recently. Luka was happy to reassure her in any way she needed.

When the kissing wound down to an easy, natural end, Marinette buried her face in his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her upper back softly, staying well away from the bandages. “Can you tell me why now?” he asked softly, after a few minutes.

Marinette groaned. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Marinette sighed and pulled away from him, going over to grab her tablet from her desk. She brought it back with her and plopped down next to him, pulling up a video.

Luka watched the video, recognizing Marinette’s roller derby team by the uniforms, though the faces weren’t people he knew. They were on the rink but it wasn’t a bout; it looked more like a dance. The video shifted and showed what looked more like a skills drill, people weaving in and out of obstacles, cheering and showboating the whole time.

“The team—well, the whole league, actually—does exhibitions like this,” Marinette explained. “For fundraising or just to get their name out there. This one was a few years ago, but there’s one coming up soon. Some of the girls have been practicing some choreography and things for it, and I just...well that one—” she pointed to the video as a girl pulled off a trick that looked simple, though Luka doubted it really was. “I thought maybe I could do that one. I was the last one leaving the rink anyway, so I just...decided to give it a try.” She made a face. “Obviously, it didn’t go well.”

“Did you tell anyone you wanted to learn some of these tricks?” Luka asked, frowning slightly.

“No,” Marinette admitted quietly. “I guess I...well…I didn’t want any of them to see me mess up. They don’t know clumsy Marinette, except Alix, and I didn’t want to be that person anymore.”

“Marinette,” Luka said softly, sliding his hand up to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s not clumsiness to fall when you try something new. I’ve fallen on the ice rink lots of times. It’s just part of the learning process. You’ve got plenty of strength and flexibility, it’s just teaching your body to do the right things in the right order. If you want to try and be part of the...exhibition team, or whatever you guys call it, then I think that’s a great idea. But I want you to do it safely. If you got hurt, it wasn’t because you aren’t capable, it’s because you didn’t have anyone there to teach you. Do you really think the team will laugh at you? Did they laugh at you when you were first learning to skate the incline rink?”

“No,” Marinette admitted, and then made a face. “Well, sometimes. But not in a mean way.”

Luka kissed her forehead softly. “And they won’t laugh at you in a mean way now. Even if you try and don’t like it, or you’re not any good—which I highly doubt since you’re amazing at everything you really put your mind to—they won’t tease you for it, will they? You’ve been so happy since you started doing roller derby, Marinette. If you want to get involved in more team activities I think that’s awesome.” Marinette gave him a tentative smile, and he smiled back. “If you want, I can come to your next practice. If you just want some moral support while you discuss it with the girls.”

Marinette’s lips turned down. “I should be able to do something like that without you.”

“You’re plenty able,” Luka said, resting his cheek on her hair. “You just don’t have to.”

He felt her sigh and consider. He came to her practices, not regularly, but often enough that no one would think much about it if he was there. He had the impression from the giggling and whispering that the other girls thought it was cute.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Marinette asked in a small voice, and Luka turned his face and kissed her temple.

“You know I love watching you in those shorts,” he teased, and then yelped as Marinette jabbed an elbow in his gut. “Ow,” he pouted.

“Here I thought we were having a serious emotional conversation and you just want to ogle my butt,” Marinette huffed, folding her arms.

“I learned how to ogle you and carry on a serious conversation at the same time years ago,” Luka teased. “It’s practically a survival skill for teenage boys. Especially those of us lucky enough to have super hot girlfriends.”

***

A few days later, Luka lounged on the bleachers at the rink, a pair of headphones plugged into his guitar as he noodled idly and watched the team. He’d been a little self-conscious at first, but Marinette had been excited the first time he asked to come, and Suzette gave permission, so he tried not to think too hard about the fact that none of the other significant others ever seemed to show up. He grinned and winked at a couple of Marinette’s teammates when he caught them staring. They giggled and waved as they went on their way. The girls all knew he was completely devoted to Marinette, so he felt safe flirting a little, just for fun. Really it was less about the flirting and more about making Marinette look good. He had an inkling that Marinette kind of liked showing him off, which did all sorts of pleasant things to his insides, so he did his best to be charming without being a creep.

When he could spare the attention, at least. He loved watching Marinette on the rink, strong and graceful and confident, now that she’d moved past the initial awkwardness of learning how to move in her skates and building up the muscle she needed. Luka could see, even if Marinette couldn’t always, how much she contributed to the team and—

Something banged on the rail in front of him and he started as Alix grinned at him, eyes knowing under her helmet. “Wake up, Couffaine,” she laughed, banging the back of her pad on the rail again for good measure. “Your lovesick puppy look is distracting everyone.”

“Sorry,” Luka grinned, chuckling. He turned his attention back to his guitar as Alix rolled her eyes and skated off. She caught Marinette around the neck and gave her a vicious noogie, complaining loudly that her boyfriend was getting drool all over the rink. Marinette tossed her off and chased her around the rink. She still wasn’t quite fast enough to catch Alix, but the entire team whooped and started around the rink, and the whole thing became some kind of free for all that Luka couldn’t quite follow, until Suzette intervened and got them back into their drills.

Finally Suzette called that the team was free to go and just the exhibition squad should stay. Luka put aside his guitar and walked out onto the rink, slipping an arm around Marinette’s waist as she skated up to him.

“Ready?” he asked softly, and she nodded. They made their way back to where Suzette was giving instructions, and all eyes turned curiously their way.

“Um,” Marinette began nervously. “I was hoping that maybe I could, um, join the exhibition squad? I know I’m new and I don’t really know that much but I’m a fast learner and I could—” She cut off the ramble as Luka squeezed her hip.

Suzette smiled warmly at her and Alix gave her two thumbs up. “Of course you can,” Suzette told her, and then her smile faltered slightly. “Although I’m not sure if there’s enough time to get you up to speed with the other girls for this exhibition…” She looked down her clipboard, tapping her pen on her lips thoughtfully. “We could have you do a solo skills exhibition like Alix, except…”

“Alix is a lot better than me at all those things,” Marinette shifted uncomfortably.

“You haven’t been doing them as long,” Suzette reminded her kindly. “We could maybe use that as an asset, though. Show them a beginner level drill while Alix handles the advanced stuff. If we came up with a few things and you really drilled on them—” Suzette began, but she was interrupted before she could finish the thought.

“What about jam skating?” one of the girls spoke up. Everyone turned to look at her and she shrugged slightly. “It’s always a crowd pleaser. It’s fun and as long as the song is killer, it’ll look good even if it’s simple. We start out teaching her the basics and if she can manage some fancier tricks we can work them into the routine later. Marinette’s strong and flexible, I bet she can make it look good, and that way she can still participate but we don’t have to shoehorn her into something where she’ll have to do a lot of work to catch up.” She looked at Marinette. “How does that sound? I bet you can put together a killer outfit. If you like it, we can work on more complicated stuff for the next fundraiser.”

“That sounds really fun,” Marinette admitted shyly. Luka squeezed her hip again. “I’m sure I could come up with a great song,” she added, glancing up at Luka. He blushed a little and winked at her.

“I’m sure we can find something,” he agreed.

“Okay then,” Suzette grinned. “You can work with Danielle and we’ll see how it goes, and work it out from there. Welcome to the squad, Marinette.”

***

A couple of weeks later, Luka was lounging on Marinette’s chaise while she sat hunched over her desk, brainstorming outfits for her exhibition skate. ��How’s the jam skate prep going?” Luka asked, bending over to plug his guitar into the tiny pink amp that now lived under her chaise. Marinette had giggled all afternoon the first time he brought it over, but it was perfect for letting him practice while she worked, without being in her way when he wasn’t there. Marinette had decorated the casing with some of her flower decals and now it felt like it had always been part of her room.

“Not bad,” Marinette said, refocusing on the outfits she was sketching. “It still feels a little awkward. Danielle’s trying to teach me this quick-change move and I keep getting my feet tangled up, but she promises me that’s normal and that I’m doing well.”

“You mean she didn’t call you clumsy and laugh you off the rink?” Luka chuckled, and Marinette pitched a discarded, crumpled up sketch over her shoulder at him, smiling in satisfaction when she heard it bounce off his head.

“You were right,” she said, reaching for a different pencil. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“I just want to hear that it’s going well,” Luka said innocently, and Marinette rolled her eyes. The soft notes of Luka’s guitar—no, actually, that was a lot more energetic than the last thing she’d heard him working on.

“I haven’t heard that one before,” Marinette observed.

“I know,” Luka chuckled. “I thought you might like something with a kick for your jam skate, so I’ve been messing around with a few things. I think I’m on the right track with this one.”

That got her attention, and she put her pencil down and got up from her desk. “You don’t have to write something new,” Marinette protested, shoving his legs aside so she could sit down next to him on the chaise. “You’ll have to finish and record it, and there’s not much time if I’m going to get a routine worked out and practiced—I can use a commercial album, or one of Kitty Section’s songs.”

“I want to,” Luka shrugged. “Mom can record it for us. It’ll be good enough quality to play over the PA system. I can finish it in a couple of days, no problem. Besides, it saves you guys having to do anything about getting rights and stuff.” He grinned, reaching over to rub his thumb along the furrow between her brows. “Put a Kitty Section patch on your outfit and we’ll call it even.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I would have done that anyway.”

“I know.” Luka leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re the most supportive girlfriend I could ever ask for. You might as well be the band’s PR manager at this point. The least I can do is support you too.” He kissed her lips, too, since he was there already, before winking and sitting back.

“Mm-hmm,” Mariette smiled, sliding over and leaning into his space before reaching up to flick his pink-tipped bangs out of his face. “You’ve always supported me. I’m sorry I didn’t...well, that I hid things from you before. I should have trusted you would understand.”

Luka smiled, though his gaze was suddenly fixed on her mouth. “Forgiven. I’m just happy you’re happy now. I—Mmm.” He cut off in a contented hum as she closed the last bit of distance and kissed him. He smiled at her when she pulled back, but she set her hand on his, pushing lightly, and she grinned when she saw him swallow as he set the guitar aside.

As soon as it was out of the way, Marinette slid into his lap and put her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. “You’re the best,” she sighed, and then kissed him again. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Luka tried to answer but a kiss just below his jaw ensured that nothing came out but a strangled squeak. Marinette had no intention of letting him argue, and Luka seemed to realize that, so instead he just put his arms around her and closed his eyes as she peppered kisses over his face and neck. At last, Marinette took his face in her hands and kissed him slowly and tenderly, and as she pulled away, a sudden inspiration hit her. Luka opened his eyes and found her looking at him intently.

She reached up and traced a line with one fingertip from his forehead, down over his eye, to his cheekbone.

Luka raised his eyebrows. “Marinette?”

“Hmm?” Distracted, Marinette was still staring at him—not at him, exactly, but at his face. Except she wasn’t really seeing his face, her mind already racing, elements she had been struggling with suddenly coming together in her mind.

The warm pressure of Luka’s mouth on hers brought her blinking back to reality. “Marinette,” he murmured, before kissing her again. “Come back to earth, please. At least long enough for me to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” Marinette gasped. “I’m so sorry, Luka, I—” but he was already shaking his head.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said fondly, brushing her bangs back gently. “I get it. But I’m not going to see you tomorrow so I’d like a decent goodbye before you get lost in the zone.”

“Of course,” Marinette smiled, and put her arms around his neck, forcing herself to focus on him for the moment as he kissed her. “I love you,” she breathed against his lips, and he smiled.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and kissed her again before pulling back. He packed up his guitar and slung the case over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to eat,” he told her, chuckling as he saw her already shuffling around on her desk. “Set your alarm so you don’t stay up all night.”

“I will,” Marinette said, smiling at his care of her as she went over to her desk and flipped to a new sheet of paper, sparing a moment to appreciate the way he always knew when to give her space. She hummed a little bit of the peppy song he’d been working on as she picked up her blue pencil and began to sketch.

***

Despite her genuine excitement and enthusiasm, Marinette had had her reservations when Danielle suggested jam skating. She was acrobatic enough, when she wasn’t being a total klutz, but Marinette hadn’t been sure she was graceful or rhythmic enough for something that was supposed to be a kind of dance. She’d trusted her teammates though and it turned out that she was actually halfway decent at it after all. And it was fun.

“Yes, girl,” Danielle yelled from where she was leaning against the rail, watching Marinette. “Now you’re getting it! It’s about time you stopped thinking so hard!”

Marinette flashed her a grin as she whipped by.

“This music is killer,” Danielle commented when Marinette finished and skated back to her. “What’s it called?”

“Oh,” Marinette reached up and ruffled her bangs away from her sweaty forehead. “I don’t actually know if it has a name? Luka wrote it and recorded it for me.”

Danielle grinned. “Are you kidding? Is there anything that boy won’t do for you?”

Marinette shrugged, blushing as she looked at the floor. “Not much,” she admitted, grinning. “He’s pretty amazing. He’s always been there for me, even before we were together. Even when it hurt him.”

“Ooohkay don’t get all sentimental on me,” Danielle said, throwing an arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “I’m not trying to pry into your business. I don’t know what happened in the past but right now? You two are pretty sickening. Gotta admit, though, I wish I had a relationship like yours. Does he have a sister?” she teased, and Marinette shoved her back with a grin.

“Yes, and you’ve seen her before, the tall girl with the black hair and the purple tips and the cute blond girlfriend hanging all over her.”

Danielle groaned, dropping her head back. “Figures.”

Marinette patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“Well, you’ve got the rink for a while longer,” Danielle sighed, leaning over the rail to grab her bag from the bleachers. She slung it over her shoulder. “You can stay and practice a little more if you want, and then next time we’ll work on putting some fancy stuff in the middle.” She poked Marinette in the belly. “Maybe some breakdancing-type moves during one of those sick guitar riffs. Might as well show off some of those crazy ab muscles of yours.”

Marinette giggled, and waved as Danielle left. She did a few lazy loops around the rink, practicing her footwork, letting the breeze of her passing cool the sweat on her skin. She was tired, but it was the good kind of tired, the ache of hard work and the glow of accomplishment.

“Looking good. You always do, though.”

Marinette swung around, nearly losing her balance, to find Luka standing at the edge of the rink, grinning at her.

“Luka,” she skated toward him, beaming. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I thought I’d go home with you,” he said, and then, to her surprise, he hopped over the rail, and she saw he had a pair of skates on. “But I was hoping maybe you could show me some moves first.”

“Really?” Marinette backed up a bit to gaped at his feet, and then looked up at him. “But...you don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” Luka shrugged his hoodie off, laying it over the rail, and stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging as he glided towards her. “But it’s important to you, and you like it. So I’d just like to give it a shot.”

Marinette swallowed hard, still drifting backwards, eyes darting over the muscles in his arms and shoulders, the easy motion of his hips as he skated towards her, and the sly smirk curling his lips—

Crap. He was smirking because she was staring. He bent down as he reached her, mischievous blue eyes peeking at her through the pink-tipped strands falling over his forehead. “Marinette,” he sing-songed teasingly, and blushing, she shoved his face away. He stumbled a little on his skates—Marinette supposed they weren’t exactly like ice skates, where she’d never seen him so much as wobble.

Luka chuckled and maneuvered next to her. “Okay, so where do we start?”

Marinette swallowed her nerves. “Um, the back and forth? Like this.” She demonstrated with her feet.

It didn’t take him long to get the hang of it, or the next two she showed him. Marinette wanted to pout. Luka was all sinuous, fluid grace, and it wasn’t fair. Oh, she knew he had his fair share of clumsy moments, usually when he was thinking about a song (or sometimes when he was thinking about her), but when it came to something like this, something that depended on rhythm and showmanship...he was in his element no matter the medium, and it showed. He had a confidence in himself and his body that she’d never been able to match outside of the suit.

Then he looked up and smiled at her, and she was reminded that this strong, hot, gorgeous man thought she was the greatest thing on earth, and she felt...she felt like it was true. Her smile lost some of its tightness, and some of the tension went out of her body, and she quirked a challenging eyebrow at him.

“Okay, how about this one?” She knew he’d be able to do it, because this one was all balance and hips, but it wasn’t about how he moved right now. She put her hands behind her head and kicked her hips out to get the momentum she needed, and grinned to herself when she saw that she had his complete, undivided attention. It was intoxicating, having that complete laser focus entirely on her, and it made her want to really sell the performance.

“Well,” she said, after he’d watched her for a moment. “You think you can do it?”

“Show me again,” he said, his voice at least an octave deeper than it had been a moment ago. “A little slower, please.”

Marinette did it again, slower, keeping her eyes on him as much as she could. He shook his head slightly, lips curling. “You’re too good,” he murmured, and then smirked at her before trying the move himself. He had it down before long and Marinette giggled.

“Okay, let’s put it together,” she murmured, sidling up next to him. Marinette started some music on her phone, counted out the beat in her head, and began putting the moves she’d just shown him together in a simple routine.

Luka watched her intently for a moment, and then started to move next to her. It took him a couple of tries but he got it, and they grinned at each other as they moved around the rink in synch. It wasn’t perfect, they both stumbled a couple of times, and more than once they forgot where they were in their little routine, but they giggled their way through it and Marinette thought they were actually doing pretty well.

Impulsively, Marinette flipped out of formation with him, circling around him as he kept going with their little routine. She threw in a little flare here and there when she knew he was watching, and then moved around to skate in front of him, mirroring the moves. That was harder and it took more concentration, she couldn’t show off as much. But it was worth it to be facing him, to see the way he looked at her.

Finally he put on a quick burst of speed and caught her around the waist, and then stumbled over his toe stop, and Marinette had to hold him up, laughing. He grinned sheepishly as they skidded to a less than graceful stop, but didn’t let her go.

“You know something,” Marinette said, looking up at him through her lashes. “My boyfriend is really hot.”

“You know something else?” Luka said, already bending towards her. “My girlfriend is irresistible.” He nipped at her jaw, palm flattening against the small of her back to press her close to him as he mouthed his way down her neck. Marinette tilted her head back and moaned softly, letting her hands drift down to his biceps. Luka moved down to her collarbone and Marinette leaned a little too far back. She yelped as her skates began to roll out from under her, but Luka caught her, letting her feet slide between his as she hung in his arms. He grinned down at her, and she giggled. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere a little more stable?” he suggested, with that same gentle mildness as always, that never mocked her or made her feel like she was...too clumsy, or too awkward, or too much of a spazz, or just too much.

This was one of those moments it hit her, how much, how truly he loved her, and as always it made her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes burn, and she yearned to show him how much she appreciated it, and how much she loved him in return, for just being the sweet, trustworthy, patient, dependable man that he was.

She bit her lip, tightening her fingers on his biceps, and leaned up enough to kiss his lips lightly. “Let’s go.”

Luka smiled, and lifted her back onto her feet. He held her while she got her legs back underneath herself, steady as a rock as always. She smiled up at him, at his soft blue eyes looking at her under the pink-tipped fringe of his hair, and hoped the little surprise she was planning for the exhibition would show him how much she really did appreciate him.

***

Juleka was smirking, and Luka didn’t know why, and that was...worrisome. He tried to look like he didn’t care too much, because if she thought he really wanted to know, she definitely wouldn’t tell him.

“Are you coming to the exhibition today?” he asked, as casually as he could, and Juleka’s smirk got broader, and now he was really worried.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Juleka mumbled, her expression shifted to a wicked grin.

Oh, that was bad. That was almost definitely bad. Especially given that Juleka had disappeared for almost the whole afternoon for the last two days. Coupled the fact that Luka had picked up a couple extra shifts and hadn’t seen Marinette in a few days...he had concerns. As if Marinette didn’t knock him on his ass (mostly metaphorically, but occasionally literally) on the regular without special Plans.

Yeah, with the way Juleka was suddenly cackling at him, he was pretty sure he was doomed, he just wasn’t sure how .

It was a really long day, and when they finally slipped into the seats Tom and Sabine had saved for them, right up in front, the grins on Tom and Sabine’s faces didn’t do much to ease Luka’s concerns. He tried not to let his knee bounce as they waited, but gave up even trying to keep his fingers in control, letting them tap out the rhythm of the music playing on the leg he was desperately trying to keep still.

***

“That feels like a pretty big crowd,” Marinette breathed as she peeked out of the locker room door.

“Good,” Alix said cheerfully, adjusting her helmet. “More people means more money.”

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette said lightly, like she wasn’t suddenly shaking in her skates.

“Hey.” Marinette jumped as Alix threw an arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s kinda freaky, but you’ll be fine once you get out there. Besides, you and I both know there’s only one person in that audience you actually care about impressing.” She took a lock of Marinette’s hair in her fingers and waved it in front of Marinette’s eyes, before letting it slide away. “I hope you brought a mop and a bucket because that boy’s going to melt down completely, you know that right?”

“I know,” Marinette giggled. “That’s the plan.” She and Alix grinned at each other and shared a fist bump.

***

There were several clubs participating in the exhibition, and the programs were interesting but the wait was killing him.

He sat up a little straighter when Suzette finally took the microphone. Marinette was up first, he knew. Suzette introduced herself and told the crowd a little bit about the team, and then began to back up to the sidelines, calling, “Ladies and gentleman, give it up for our very own Petty Gâteau, Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Marinette’s new to the team and she came to us with barely any experience on skates and a lot to learn, but with a little perseverance and a lot of hard work, she’s become an absolute terror of the derby track! Not only is she a great jammer in the bout, she’s been learning jam skating and today she’s performing a routine she calls Blue Lightning.”

Luka had barely registered the name when Marinette burst onto the rink, throwing her arms up in the air as the spectators applauded, and Luka lost his breath as he watched Marinette take a lap around the rink, hyping the crowd. Marinette wore a black sleeveless crop top that left her toned arms and midriff bare, with a sparkly blue lightning bolt lined in pink emblazoned bold and proud across her chest. She wasn’t wearing her helmet for the jam skate and her hair was loose, its bright blue streaks whipping around her grinning face—wait.

Luka’s mouth dropped open and he stood up, gripping the rail as he stared, and Juleka began to howl with laughter beside him. Marinette’s hair had always had a slightly blue look to it in the light, but now it was shot through with bright, jagged streaks of blue. His blue. His knees went a little weak and his heart began to pound as she locked eyes with him and winked. God. He dropped heavily back into his seat as Tom and Sabine began to giggle.

“Either I owe you big time,” he muttered to Juleka, who was practically in tears from laughter at this point, “Or I’m going to kill you. I haven’t decided which yet.”

Marinette really only got a glimpse at his face when she whipped by but she liked what she saw. She waved and blew kisses and circled to the center of the rink. The excitement of surprising Luka already had her on edge, and the energy of the crowd was addictive, so when the music started she maybe put a little more snap in her hips, a little more sass in her smile, a little more whip in her hair, and she had to laugh the next time she passed Luka, who was by now leaning on the rails for support while Juleka patted his back with faux sympathy.

Marinette laughed as her feet wove through those quick-change moves she’d had so much trouble with a few weeks before, grinning triumphantly when she managed them without trouble.

She wished she could have seen Luka’s face when she “fell” back, landing on her hands and kicking up into a handstand.

Marinette finished her routine with a flourish and took another lap around the rink, waving both hands at the audience, though her attention stayed on Luka. She skated up to him as Suzette cried, “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our own Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Luka leapt to his feet as she approached, and his hands were on her face before she even leaned over the rail, and as they shared a brief but fervent kiss. Through the whooping and applause they heard Suzette laughing over the microphone as she announced, “And just in case you were wondering, she’s taken.”

Marinette pulled back, blushing prettily, and turning even redder as she saw the way Luka was looking at her. She blew him one more kiss, waved to her friends, and skated off the rink to get changed for the bout.

She was fired up when it came time for the actual competition, throwing her weight around and pushing off with her strong legs. There was no hesitation about her anymore as she worked with her teammates, calling out formations and strategies, slamming herself up against bodies of teammates and opponents alike as the situation required.

In her eagerness she got called for a penalty, and since this was an exhibition bout more about entertainment than anything else, she ended up doing one armed push-ups balanced on her toe stops. She grinned to herself as she heard Luka’s roar cheering her on. Her quiet boyfriend knew how to make himself heard when he wanted to.

She maybe did a few extra push-ups, just to show off, and nearly fell over laughing when she saw Luka pretend to swoon onto Juleka. He nearly landed on the floor when his sister shoved him off mercilessly. Marinette blew him a kiss and got back in the bout, but she felt as if his eyes were burning her the whole time, even when she couldn’t see him.

They certainly burned her when the bout was over and she could look over at him again. Deciding it was best not to go over there again this time, she let Alix tug her along with the rest of the team back to the locker room.

Marinette took her time getting ready, lingering until the locker room was empty. Alix was the last one out before her. She smirked at Marinette and gave her a two-fingered salute on her way out of the door.

Marinette slowly, deliberately packed up her things, enjoying the pleasant flutter of anticipation in her stomach, the rush still singing in her veins, and then slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the locker room, humming Blue Lightning under her breath.

Sure enough, no sooner had she come out of the door than a strong arm slipped around her waist and whirled her around so that her back was against the wall. Luka loomed over her, grinning as he nudged her nose with his. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “Anything else you need to do?”

“Nope,” Marinette giggled, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and to the floor.

“Good,” he sighed, and bent down to kiss her—more softly than she expected, but as soon as she kissed him back and lifted her arms around his neck, he pressed her into the wall with a little moan and kissed her and kissed her, murmuring sweet little things that she barely managed to take in, about how proud he was of her and how amazing she was and how much he loved her while she squirmed and giggled and kissed him back. She laughed into his mouth as his thumbs slipped under her shirt to stroke across her abs.

“Luka, that tickles,” she told him.

“You’re so unfair,” he fake-whined teasingly. “You’re feeling up my muscles all the time, and then you go out there like that and now I’m not allowed to touch?”

“Your muscles are really nice,” she defended herself, grabbing his hand and sliding it flat against her stomach. “You can touch, just....” She cleared her throat, but her voice still sounded huskier than usual as she said, “Harder.”

Luka growled and kissed her again, rubbing his palm firmly across her belly, and maybe she shifted a little on purpose to make her muscles flex beneath his hand, and he moaned into her mouth. Marinette couldn’t help reveling at least a little bit in her power over him, shifting again, and the noise he made had her giggling into the kiss.

“You covered it up,” Luka murmured, reaching up to stroke the hair that now looked almost completely black.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, it doesn’t show as much when my hair’s up,” Marinette remembered, reaching up to touch her pigtails.

“I want to see it again though,” he complained, and Marinette giggled, reaching up to pull the bands out of her hair. She shook it loose and smiled up at him.

“Sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about it, just put it up out of habit.”

Luka smiled and threaded his fingers through her hair, letting the strands slide slowly through them so he could admire the fall of the blue streaks. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He sighed and rested his forehead on hers gently. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Marinette told him, rubbing her nose against his lightly. “Besides, fair’s fair.”

“But I didn’t—”

Marinette’s finger on his lips silenced him. “I know,” she smiled. “You weren’t expecting anything from me. But what I meant was, it’s only fair that I get to wear your colors if you get to wear mine. In fact, I was thinking maybe I need to start incorporating a little more Luka-blue in some of my accessory designs. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been buying out my online shop, monsieur.” She giggled. “Not that wearing my flower keychain on your guitar case was particularly subtle.”

Luka smiled, unrepentant. “I like having little reminders of you. Thinking about you makes me happy.” He bent and kissed her softly. “I’m not opposed to you thinking of me, either, so if it makes you happy, I’m all for it. Now, can I take my amazing girl for some ice cream, or are you too worn out to go walking all over Paris looking for Andre?”

Marinette shrugged. “Andre’s is nice, but I think my legs would prefer the little parlor on the corner if that’s okay.”

Luka chuckled. “Sure thing.”

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #pink frosting #all that remains #derbynette #pink luka #lukanette #lukanette endgame #i am lukanette trash i admit it #endgame lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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minteagalaxea · 3 years

Text

nebulochaotic | j.w.w

wonwoo and haseo

genre: fluff, some angst, tension

word count: 1.9k

inspiration: the “home run” music video, cable girls, the roaring twenties.

note: i haven’t posted a story in a while...and this is very crazy.

"operator seventeen, how can i help you?" the voice inquired, tone neutral and apathetic as she spoke through the phone.

"yes, could you connect me to choi seungcheol, number 808, please?" the other responded, the masculine timbre mimicking the expression from the operator.

"of course, one moment, please," came the natural response, and there came the click of a connecting wire, following by a few cranks of the dial, "hello, you have a call from 717, would you like to accept it?"

"yes, please," she heard the voice on the other end call, and she connected the two speakers, letting the conversation commence between the two men, surreptitiously scrawling down written notes until the discussion ended.

after a few moments, the woman plugged a new cable into the board, turning on the switch as she stated, "detective lee, i have some information for you."

"mr. jeon, a pleasure to meet you here," the man spoke casually, taking a seat across him on the elegant couch of the club.

"detective lee, what a coincidence," the other returned with the same perfunctory manner, though considerably terser than the former, "how can i satisfy you tonight?"

"you wouldn't happen to know any information about the diamond heist, would you, mr. jeon?" he inquired with his amiable, easygoing grin, with the underlying tones of animosity.

"i do not, detective lee, though i am surprised that you've heard of that—i had thought it was a private subject."

"then, you are privy to the details," the latter remarked triumphantly, "are you aware of its whereabouts, or anyone that would know?"

"even if i were privy to them, the majority of what i do know is from the grapevine, although i'm curious as to how you acquired this information."

"it's like you said, mr. jeon: i heard it through the grapevine," he answered briskly before his eyes wandered to see a woman, her hair curled hair and lips painted, peering at them before averting her eyes, "either way, have a nice evening."

"to you, as well," the man bid farewell, before rising to his feet to approach the young woman, extending a hand as he inquired, "care to dance with me, miss?"

the woman took his hand and looped her arms around his neck; they swayed in small harmony, the jazz-tango trumpets and double bass permeating the void caused by silence. he took note of the way that her eyes flickered towards the clock in the corner as the sultry tones began to fade; "did you have somewhere to be?" he inquired, receiving a small nod.

"i hope i'll be able to see you again," he speaks, earning a small nod from her as she loosened his grasp, shoes clicking on the floor as she left the building.

"operator seventeen, i was wondering about something," the voice on the other end reported, "your name."

"you're venturing into dangerous waters, sir," she retorted evenly, "although, there must be a reason as to why you're curious about it now, considering i've answered your calls ever since the beginning of my job."

"well, i thought since you'd be my operator unless drastic circumstances arise, i should get to know the lady that's handling my conversations."

a faux sigh escaped her lips before she lilted, "i suppose it would be fair, considering that the chances of us intentionally crossing paths is improbable—kwon haseo."

"thank you for telling me, miss kwon; now, could you please connect me to kim mingyu, number 416?" he requested.

"of course; one moment, please," haseo's tone reverted to her proper, business tone, pleasantries aside as she plugged in the other cable to the required number, cranking to ring. "hello, you have a call from 717; would you like to accept it, sir?"

"yes, please," the other voice remarked, and as she connected the line, she attempted to funnel their dialogue to its most important, though she found herself listening more anyway, fond of the man's baritone voice.

17 carat teemed with people, dancing to the big band jazz and drinking the bootleg alcohol to forget their sorrows and menial struggles of the day. wonwoo wove his way through the myriad of touchy hands and inebriated lips, landing his dark eyes on the girl from the night prior, swirling a glass of wine between the space of her fingers. her head leaned down, almost worn as he watched her exhale shakily; "is the alcohol not sufficient for you tonight, miss?" he questioned.

"just had long workday, sir, though i appreciate the concern, nonetheless," she reassured, tone sincere and laced with the exhaustion of her day, turning her head to peer at him with a nebulochaotic smile, "i danced with you last night, didn't i?"

noting the tilt in his head, the woman attempted to repeat her statement, sighing after repeating it innumerably, though she leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, standing up and stepping out the bar sluggishly.

"so, let me get something straight—you have an infatuation for the switchboard operator you speak to daily, but you also have an infatuation with the woman you dance with whenever she is present here?" seungcheol inquired.

"that would summarize it," wonwoo affirmed, sighing, "both of them are charming in their ways, but i don't think it's the best idea to have a crush on a woman i've never seen and another i've never heard."

"you've never seen the switchboard operator, and you haven't heard the looker you've been giving heart-eyes to speak?" mingyu elaborated, eyes bulging widely, "wonwoo, i know you pay us and are our superior, but how exactly did you manage to find yourself enraptured with somebody knowing that that puts either woman in danger?"

"i know, mingyu, you don't need to remind me," the elder grumbled to himself, taking a sip of his scotch, "and i'm probably going to regret it if i drag her into this business."

"have you ever considered, wonwoo, that they might be the same person that you've just encountered at two vastly different points of the day?" soonyoung theorized.

"there's something offputting imagining her to be a lethargic, unamused operator with her smirking," wonwoo shook his head; his mind felt perplexed at the thought of combining the two people to create a single entity.

"soonyoung possibly is right," seungcheol affirmed, "yes, you find yourself enamored with her, but what if it isn't two different people—"

"what is our status report regarding the package, seungcheol?" he cut off sharply, "we don't have much time between acquisition and transfer."

releasing a sigh, the man responded, "minghao has the package, which he received from hansol, who will have it transferred and exchanged at the telephone company."

"what time is optimal?"

"9 am sharp, and not a second later," he reported firmly, "chan will take the package and have it safely transported."

"what about other bypassers—we can't afford to have witnesses derailing the entire operation, boss," mingyu indicated in the plan.

"well, we just don't have to be there by the time the authorities arrive," the leader remarked, smirking devilishly at the group of men, "but, anyway, enjoy the evening. after all, the night is still young."

as the group of men dispersed, another pair of steps made their way over to him, her hand extending to his shoulder, eyes glowing in concern. "i'm alright, just stressed from my workday, doll," wonwoo reassured.

a huff of sympathy blew past her lips, and she reached for his hand, rising to her feet as she tugged his body towards the dance floor, wrapping her arms around him as they sway to the big band jazz. eventually, he began to twirl her, his figure loosening with her movements, finding joy in her figure contorting and bending as he placed his hand against the small of her back.

wonwoo's period of relaxation ended abruptly, however, when the woman departed, though she leaned upwards to leave a kiss to his cheek. yet, he turned to have it land on his lips, coiling over her close before she departed, a wistful expression on his face as he spectated, a hand brushing his lips.

"haseo, please go home, doll," she heard the man on the line forebode, "i don't want you to get hurt."

"what do you mean by that?" haseo lilted, her tone slightly nervous, although she had to do her best to stifle the smirk on her lips.

"your workplace will be in danger in the next hour," he growled, "go home. if you value even a minute semblance of your life, then please evacuate the premises now, doll, for my sanity."

"i...okay," she acquiesced, "and, umm...stay safe, too, wonwoo, for my sanity," hanging up quickly before garnering suspicion from the man in question, her fingers rapidly rearranging her cable to connect to a different line.

"detective lee," haseo warned frantically, her fingernails tapping at her workstation, "i believe the exchange is occurring in an hour at the telephone company."

"how exactly did you find out this information?" the man inquired rapidly, "who told you."

"jeon wonwoo told me," she answered, "he told me to leave work to prevent inserting myself into the crossfires and becoming potential collateral."

"we'll be there promptly, but, haseo, he is aware how you acquired the information, right?"

a brief moment of silence permeated the two of them before the girl raised her voice to answer the question, "if he didn't before, then he finds out today."

his footsteps entered the building, and the others extended their guns as they circled the premises, seungcheol releasing a gunshot and eliciting screams from the men in the building.

throughout the commotion, wonwoo skirted his way through the droves of panicked people, before settling his eyes onto minghao and chan, who exchanged the parcel. before he could engage in further chaos, he felt a cock of the trigger directly by his ear—"jeon wonwoo, you're under arrest for robbery, money laundering, and for direct defiance of the volstead act."

"you have no proof of that, detective, and even if you did, they wouldn't be substantial enough to warrant a sentence."

"perhaps so, but i believe that all our evidence would be your word against your own in court, wouldn't it, haseo?" he teased, and wonwoo noted a figure in a black pantsuit, a coat over her arms as she spectated all the chaos.

feline-like eyes met large, doe-like ones, though both were unreadable as they stared at each other in the middle of their nebulochaotic surroundings.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #svt #svt wonwoo #svt imagines #svt scenarios #jeon wonu #wonu #svt wonu

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

Text

What’s Left Unsaid

TW: Harassment, near-death experience.

Note: Inaccurate depiction of gunshot wounds and dangerous medical situations because I’m not a doctor, nor have I been shot in the head.

It was a bright- almost too bright -day in the Commonwealth. The rain had cleared out the night before leaving everything freshly sparkling with dew, puddles of rainwater spattered next to the walkway. Children ran through them, scattering the muddy water across the cobblestone paths, energized by the fresh appearance of Diamond City. Even Takahashi seemed to have renewed energy.

Sole and Cait walked hand in hand through the small settlement, mostly silent, just enjoying each other’s company. They’d stopped at Power Noodles, bantering over their meal playfully, laughter ringing through the area easily as if they had not a care in the world. Cait had never felt this at ease with someone, but Sole seemed to have that effect on her.

She leaned her head against their shoulder as they walked. “I won’t lie, I can’t believe I’ve got somethin’ like this.”

Sole smiled as they turned to look at her before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “We should go pop in on Nick, see how he’s doing after that case.” Sole suggested, lips brushing against her forehead as they spoke.

Cait nodded in agreement, despite wanting Sole to herself for the day. She knew what she was getting into when she started dating someone so caring, and that was something she adored about Sole. Despite everything, they still dedicated everything within themself to their friends without hesitation. She let them lead the way to the alley Nick had set up in, swinging their joined hands cheerfully between them.

They made it halfway down the alley before someone she’d never seen before came stumbling up to them, seemingly tipsy. Cait couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “What’s up, pretty girl?” He said to Cait, grin lazy as he looked her up and down.

Considering she’d lived amongst raiders, this was a situation all too familiar to her. However, it was nice to have someone next to her, despite the discomfort. “On a date, are yah blind?” She snapped back, moving to push past him.

Sole still had a grip on her hand and kept her by their side, smiling politely at the guy as they passed him. He grabbed Cait by the arm as she attempted to make her way past. “Aw, c’mon, nothin’? Let’s go get a room, I can make it worth your time.”

It was hard to miss the way Sole tensed beside her, moreso concerned about Cait being uncomfortable than anything else. They silently followed her lead as she tried again to pass him, yanking her arm out of her grip. “The fuck’s wrong with you? Huh? Mommy and daddy never teach you manners? Don’t worry, I can help you with that.” His grin was still sleazy, yet it had more of an edge than before.

“Take a hint, dude.” Sole spoke up, rolling their eyes at his antics.

The man stopped his advances and turned his attention to Sole, the look on his face cold and leering. He seemed to think for a moment before spitting at their feet and glancing at Cait once again, then moved past them, slamming his shoulder against Sole’s. They simply sighed and sent a reassuring smile towards Cait, then continued walking towards the glowing, neon sign guiding them to Nick. “What a fockin’ idiot.” Cait spat out, shaking with anger.

Sole squeezed her hand and paused at the entrance to Valentine’s Detective Agency. “Hey, we’re okay. Just didn’t wanna get that guy riled up, you never know what idiots like him will do.”

Cait nodded and took a deep breath. Sole kissed her cheek a few times before moving their way to her mouth, capturing her lips with theirs. A smile erupted onto her face. “You’re no fair, ya know that, righ’?” She pulled away, attempting to look at them sternly, though the corners of her mouth quirking up made a poor case for her supposed disappointment.

Sole laughed and gave her a cheeky grin. “Oh, I know.” They gave her another chaste kiss before knocking on the door to Valentine’s Agency and opening it. “Knock knock, Nick!” They called out cheerfully.

The pair stayed longer than expected, lured into the agency by Ellie’s promise of tea and potentially dinner. Hours ticked by as they talked, convincing Nick to take a break and just relax amongst friends for the first time in a while. Failed cases often drove him to work himself even harder, and it was difficult to see him be so upset with himself. Thankfully, by the end of the night he was laughing just as loudly as the rest of them, a cigarette dangling from his left hand.

Sole was settled against Cait’s side, and she could feel their body shake every time they laughed, head thrown back in delight at one of Nick’s many stories. Her eyes flickered to the time and she was alarmed when it read midnight; they had an early morning to pack up supplies and head back to Sanctuary. “Love, we better get goin’.” She nudged them gently, gesturing to the clock on the wall.

Their gaze followed her hand and their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh damn, time really got away from us, didn’t it.” They pulled away from Cait, much to her dismay, and sat up straight, stretching their arms. “Thank you so much for the tea, Ellie. Nick, make sure you get some rest. Both of you, actually.”

The quartet stood and Nick and Ellie watched as the couple got their things, Cait helping Sole into their jacket. “Are you two headed back to Sanctuary this late?” Ellie asked, fretting, as always.

“Oh, no. We’re staying at Dugout Inn and getting an early start tomorrow.”

“Well, stop by before you leave. I’ll pack some food for you guys.”

Sole smiled, gratefulness evident on their face. They brought Ellie into a swift hug before reaching for the door, gesturing for Cait to exit first with a sweep of their arm. She stepped out, taking a moment to appreciate the cold air that hit her flushed face, and turned to reach for Sole’s hand. They accepted immediately, calling out for Nick to remember to take a break, then shut the door behind them.

Cait sighed, satisfied with the day’s events. Sole squeezed her hand gently before they began walking down the alley to head to their room for the night. They stopped short as the man from earlier stepped out from a dip in the alley, stumbling back and forth as he struggled to stay upright. They moved their hand that clutched Cait’s behind them, gesturing for Cait to move out of sight of the man.

Sole took a deep breath to gather their patience before putting on an easygoing smile and looking the guy up and down. “Look, dude, maybe you should head home. You’re not looking so good.” Their tone was calm, even and friendly.

“Shut the fuck up.” He shot back, words slurring together.

They watched as he shuffled, attempting to keep balance, before stopping and getting his bearings. After a moment of watching him glare at them, they went to say something, however they were stopped short by a loud shout, a mess of angry words they couldn’t decipher, and him raising his arm. In the darkness of the alley they couldn’t see what he was doing, but they recognized the stance after living in the wasteland. Alarmed, they moved to get out of his way, but they were too late. A loud bang interrupted the peaceful night in Diamond City, and Sole dropped to the ground.

It was dark, in the way that sleep was, cozy and soft and muffled. There wasn’t much to the experience, other than the feeling of drifting, and the quiet sound of conversation somewhere in the back of Sole’s mind. They wanted to shift, to hide deeper in the blankets they felt weighing them down, and drift off to sleep again. However, they couldn’t move at all, and felt as if they were getting a peek into what the world was like when they were fast asleep, unaware and unknowing.

A tingling made itself known in their arms, signalling that they hadn’t moved in a very long time and their limbs were beginning to protest. Was that what had not-quite-woken them? Some part of them didn’t quite care. They felt at peace in the darkness of whatever they were experiencing and didn’t want the annoyance of their arms to disturb that.

They felt something skim across their arm, light and gentle, that brought their attention back from the void. They wanted to shift, to seek it out, but they still couldn’t move, despite how hard they fought internally. Now they were starting to get upset, locked in the deep fog of whatever was weighing them down.

The light touch moved to their scalp; someone was combing their fingers through their hair. Sole came to the conclusion that this was the true definition of peace, and their frustration settled to the back of their mind, long forgotten as they felt their hair being brushed away from their face. Then, something wet hit their cheek.

Out of reflex, they flinched, surprising even themself. They were nearing the surface of the fog, rippling light pressing at their eyelids despite their determination to ignore it. It was irritating, but not occupying their mind like the dampness on their face was. After a moment's hesitation to let the peace go, they started to fight to the surface of the fog, seeking out the light that beat down on them so painfully.

With an unsteady breath, they came to. Their limbs felt heavy, as well as their eyelids, like they had been laying still for as long as they’d been alive. Confusingly, they felt mildly alarmed, like something was wrong despite the calm nature of where they were and what they were experiencing. The sheets shifted above them and were tucked underneath their chin before the hand moved back to smoothing their hair away from their face. They sighed.

Abruptly, the hand disappeared again, along with all weight that had been leaned against their cot. Now they were even more confused. Had something happened? More muffled conversation. It wasn’t long before the hand returned, this time gripping their own, pressing at the numbness that threatened to overtake their arm. They relaxed a bit at this. From what seemed like a distance they could hear muffled crying as wetness dripped down onto their arm.

That’s not what they wanted. Who was upset? Had they upset them? Sole attempted to open their eyes to figure out what was going on, but found it much more difficult than usual. Maybe their hands would work better? After a few minutes of concentration and worry, they managed to find the feeling in their hands and squeeze. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Whoever was crying gasped and squeezed back, lifting their arm for them to press a kiss to their knuckles. Then, the weight returned to their cot and settled, as snugly as a puzzle piece, into Sole’s side. They returned to brushing their fingers through their hair and Sole remained content. After a moment’s struggle, they tilted their head to lean against the person.

Suddenly there was a flash of pain and they remembered standing in the alley, dew sparkling on the roofs, Cait by their side. Cait. God, it must be Cait. What happened for her to be crying? They so desperately wanted to brush the tears off her cheeks and reassure her that they were just fine. Were they fine? The fog became almost threatening, pain rushing into their senses as they became more aware.

They inhaled sharply, trying to keep it at bay. No such luck. Cait must’ve seen them flinch as she mumbled soothing words against their ear, most of which they couldn’t decipher as well as they’d have liked to. There was a tapping against the arm she didn’t have a hold of before there was a stinging pain. A needle. It must’ve been. So it was a medical situation. They grumbled internally.

Minutes ticked by into hours and Cait didn’t move away from them, only continued chatting to them, drawing them closer and closer to being fully conscious. “Gods, my love, you had me scared, ya know? Ya can’t just go an’ do all that, I’ve got a fragile heart.” She sniffled and they felt a sting in their chest. They’d never heard her so terrified.

Desperate to comfort her, they fought against the pull of sleep. Slowly, they opened their eyes, immediately cringing and closing them when the light flooded into their vision. After a moment of hesitation, they tried again. It was too bright still, but they blinked rapidly, trying to catch a glimpse of Cait.

She was leaned against the wall behind the cot, face red and puffy, eyes closed as she rubbed at them with her free hand. Her left was still tucked safely into Sole’s, giving them a reassuring squeeze every now and then that bordered on desperation. Her fiery red hair was mussed up, her clothes the same from the night before, minus the overshirt she’d been wearing, which had been tossed to the floor. She must’ve gotten uncomfortable.

Sole was eye-level with her stomach and they saw it was coated with blood. It took a few seconds for them to realize that it must be their own and their stomach dropped. They felt sick; it was a lot of blood. The weight of their head suddenly made sense. Bandages, maybe? They got a flash of an image, them looking down the barrel of a gun. Behind it was someone they didn’t recognize. God, the Commonwealth was determined to kill them.

Cait removed her hands from her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to soothe her racing heart. She looked down and froze when she saw Sole looking up at her, seeming slightly confused, but as content as ever with the bandages wound around their head. She remained paused, staring down at them in disbelief, before she clutched them close to her, careful not to jostle them or bump their head. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck, yer awake. Oh my god.” Her voice was breathless.

Quickly, she moved to sit up and turned towards them, before leaning over and pressing gentle kisses to their cheekbones, ignoring the waterworks that had already restarted other than to bat her tears away in annoyance. “God, you can never pull that shit again, ya hear? Never again. Never scare me like that again.” She sank down and pressed her face against their chest, just under their collarbones. “I had so much I wanted to say to ya and I had no idea if I’d ever get to, I just-” She stopped herself and shuddered.

Sole rubbed their thumb back and forth across the back of her hand, returning, as always, her look with a light smile. They were loopy from the medicine, that was for sure, but they were there. They had plenty of time for her to tell them what she wanted them to hear, starting with, “God, I love you. You know that? I love you.”

#un-proof read because my battery's at 6% sorry #fallout 4 #fo4 #imagine #oneshot #angst #fluff #hurt comfort #Injury #Cait

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writerfangirlbooks · 4 years

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Bobby’s Daughter Part 3

Dean x Y/N Prompt: 1) Imagine flirting with Dean Winchester before he finds out you're Bobby Singer's daughter. 2) Imagine flirting and taking things to the next level with Dean before finding out one another's identity at Bobby's birthday party. 3) Imagine taking care of Dean in Bobby's house after he is hurt during a hunt.

A/N: part 4 is going to be uploaded to the Wattpad story later today, so if you want more go check it out! Part 5 will be out beginning of October probably. Not sure if it’ll be the end of the series.

Word Count: about 2870 words

Credit to gif owner!

The rest of the dinner went well. Neither Dean's brother or your dad said anything about your absence, but they didn't really have a reason to. You hoped not to give them one. You felt more at ease, able to sit back and relax. The boys had decided on the best solution for the case and were preparing to take care of it. You offered to go with them, but a side-glance from Bobby told you to stay out of it. Dean took notice and offered a smile.

"We figure you don't want to miss out on annoying this crazy man, but maybe next time," Dean said.

"You two idgits hurry up and be safe. Come back soon before Y/N eats all the pie," your dad ordered. You laughed before helping Sam grab some of the supplies needed for their spell. The two of you walked outside and struck up your first real conversation.

"So, uh, nice to meet you, Sam. I gotta say, I'm surprised I've never run into you or Dean before," you said lightly. You kept your gaze focused on Sam and your contents, avoiding actually looking at their beautiful car.

Sam was basically a giant next to you and it was a struggle to strain your neck to glance up at him as he replied. The two of you began organizing the trunk. "Well, we're never in one spot for long. Glad to meet you as well. It's a shame we won't be working together. I would enjoy the company of a book reader."

"Hey, I read," complained Dean.

He was carrying boxes filled with equipment and weapons. The weight of it was apparently quite a bit, because the muscles in his arms tightened, wrapping around his sleeves. Dean was barely able to see you above the three large boxes. You were grateful to be above average height when standing next to these two men because they were obnoxiously tall. Sam stepped back.

"Maybe next time. I ought to hang back with dad for a while," you admitted.

"Yeah. I think I left something inside. If you give Dean or I your number, we can call you later, see if you want to join a hunt, or have any advice. You have quite the helpful books," Sam said.

With that, he left. You turned back to Dean, who finished unloading the boxes into the surprisingly organized trunk of his shiny car. He slammed the trunk shut and leaned against it, hips pressed back. His eyes seemed darker in the shade as they met yours with a small smirk.

"Yeah, how 'bout it, Y/N? Can I have your number?"

This led to a full, teasing grin. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. God, it was hard to hide your smile. You took a step away, the easygoing banter creating a more heated tension that you did not need brought into your dad's house.

Dean pouted, standing straighter. "No?"

"You think you're cute, don't you?" You asked with a laugh.

"I think I'm adorable," Dean responded. He stepped closer.

The door cracked open and your father's voice rang out in a goodbye to Sam, who stepped carelessly over to the car, unaware of the electricity buzzing around. The three of you shared a too soon, too small goodbye. You watched the Impala until it was out of sight.

You spent the next four days at your dad's place. You had your few go-bags settled into your old room and clothes draped aimlessly on the floor. The two of you had quickly settled into a routine of you fixing breakfast and him ordering fast food for dinner. Pie was the best consistency. You felt comfortable asking for more information on the Winchester brothers, getting the details about their lives, which Bobby begrudgingly told. He mentioned other local hunters, hoping this would encourage you to not constantly work around.

The two of you were relaxing on the couch when the phone rang. You were sorting through photos on your camera and Bobby was watching an old western movie. You glanced at how calm he seemed and offered to get the landline. He nodded with a grunt and you walked into the kitchen, accepting the call.

"Bobby? It's Sam. Something's happened to Dean. We're on the way to your place now. He insists on no hospital, so it'll be a few hours. We were-"

Sam's words blurred together as your blood ran cold. You were surprised the phone didn't slip out of your hand with how sweaty it was. This was a man you barely knew, injured to who-knows-what extent. You should feel mild concern, not this deep-seeded and breathtaking worry. You steadied your breaths and batted your eyes to focus back on what Sam was saying.

"Sam, it's Y/N here. We'll be waiting with medical supplies. Be safe."

You rushed over to tell your dad the news. He sighed and the two of you went to work. You cleaned up your room while Bobby gathered the necessary kits. It took a stressing amount of time for the brothers to return. Sam didn't look much different from when you last saw him less than a week ago except for the tiredness under his eyes. You rushed to the passenger side when the door flew open, Dean trying angerly to swing his boots over the side. His features softened by a few fractions when he saw it was you trying to help him.

"What the hell did you do?" You muttered.

He laughed weakly and leaned back in the seat. You took the sight of him in. This was not how you expected to see him again. The most fortunate notice was that wherever the injury was, it was not life threatening. Dean was pale and more than likely dehydrated. His clothes were covered in a mixture of dirt, blood, and some other substance. He was desperately trying to play it cool.

You shook away your thoughts and moved to help him stand, though he quickly and gently pushed your hands away. Bobby had just made it outside. You may have ran out here the second the car entered the lot. Sam was saying something to him and Bobby responded. Your focus was helping this stupid, helplessly handsome man.

"I got it," he grumbled.

"You gonna man up and accept help or sit there and stir?" You asked, your arms still outreached.

"You really are Bobby's daughter," he whined.

He shifted forward and closed his eyes for a few moments, eyebrows furrowed. He grunted, finally moving an arm around you, and ducking when the two of you stumbled out of his vehicle. More weight than you expected pressed against you. Dean mumbled something in your ears and you were suddenly grateful the others were more than a few feet away.

Sam and Bobby took Dean into their arms, ushering him into the house and onto the nearest place to lie down which happened to be the couch. Bobby pulled up a chair and the medical supplies. Sam was speedtalking through what happened, clearly anxious. You stood to the back of the room, trying to distance yourself. You shouldn't feel this heavy.

At the same time, you felt like you were intruding. The brothers were closer to your father than you had originally been led to believe. These weren't just some 'kid hunters that he occasionally helped out'. Your dad was caring after Dean no differently than he looked after you when you were sick. He was like a father to them.

The thought made something deep in your stomach curl. You weren't sure why the thought was so unpleasant, but you slipped back outside and sat on the front steps of the battered porch. You took a few breaths and placed your head in your hands. The bright afternoon sun warmed your body. You glanced around at the dirty, unorganized property. This was supposed to be home, yet you felt so out of place.

You wished you had grabbed your camera, but you had left it on the sidetable in the living room, discarded in such a frenzied panic. The sun was beginning to set already. You were sure if you wandered long enough, there would be some fun wildlife to capture on film. Nevertheless, you were stuck here. Breaking you from your thoughts, the door behind you creaked open and Sam stepped outside.

He gave a small smile. It took a few seconds to realize he was waiting for an invitation, so you nodded. The younger brother sat down near you on the steps. His plaid shirt was missing, leaving just a regular tee. He released a stressed breath that turned into a nervous laugh.

"How is he?" You asked, your voice surprisingly steady and calm.

Sam's eyes were many shades darker than Dean's, you noticed for the first time as he looked at you. "Much better. He's resting now. I feel so ridiculous. If we hadn't separated..."

You hadn't expected to have to console Sam, but that's what you were going to do. It was clear he was beating himself up about what happened to Dean. Some logic would have pointed to that being the case. Splitting up on hunts sometimes went great. Other times not so much. This just happened to be one of those times. Regardless, you were more prone to lead with your heart over your head.

"Sam, it's not your fault. From what you said, this was something the two of you agreed on. Right? And you said he's doing better. So give it a little time, I'm sure he'll be back on his feet. I'm sure you've done more good than harm," you said.

The shaggier-head brother seemed to ponder this before he nodded in agreement. "I guess... There's been so much pain around us these past few years. Ever since I left Stanford, things-"

"Hold up. You went to Stanford?" You exclaimed.

Color filled Sam's cheeks. "Yeah, I was pre-law. That was another lifetime.":

"Dude, that's amazing! All I did was attend some horribly preppy private school and learn how to take a bunch of photographs," you laughed.

"That's something I was never that good at. Theatre and debate were my thing. Of course, that's one of the many things Dean laughs at. He's always been about the life, hunting, that is," Sam said, beginning to trail off in thought.

This reminded you about what Bobby had said. Like you, they had lost their mother too young to remember. They also lost their dad not too long ago. It was easy to see what Sam meant about being surrounded by pain. That was a common theme among all hunters.

"I guess having a hobby for me besides hunting is what holds onto my sanity. This life ain't easy and I know my dad wishes I wouldn't, but it's like they say, once you start, there ain't no going back. I know I'm meant to be a hunter, no matter the consequences. I think Dean feels the same way."

You hadn't even thought about it before you said it. Hunting was something you weren't willing to give up. Dean had to feel the same, you were sure. It was reassuring, but there was still an uneasy feeling in your gut. The conversation lasted another ten minutes before Sam decided to go on a burger run, knowing Dean would be hungry when he awoke. The pair of you parted and you decided to go back inside. Bobby was washing up in the kitchen.

"I need a nap." Hello to you, too.

Bobby disappeared to another side of the house, leaving you to your lonesome once more. You made your way into the living room. Dean was sprawled across, covering the couch. He was out like a light. You took a seat hesitantly in your dad's chair, still watching Dean. His mouth was parted slightly and he snored softly. His hair was a wreck, parted in every direction possible. He looked so different than he had just days ago.

You remained quiet to not wake him as you leaned near him, reaching past his head to grab your camera. The idea lingered in your mind before shaking it off. You scanned through your most recent shoots. You became so focused on the small screen that you forgot the bigger picture of the man behind it. A small groan escaped Dean's lips as he stretched his arms. He blinked a few times before his green eyes settled on you.

"What the hell's going on?" He asked. He tried sitting up, but it was becoming clear his left shoulder and leg were in pain. His breaths quickly became ragged with his chest heaving.

Hello to you as well. Hunters and their manners.

"You were napping," you responded, setting the camera on your lap.

"Why do I feel like shit?" He continued to moan and groan, voice dry. You itched to get up and help, but remained seated and resorted to tapping your foot.

"Probably cause you got your ass beat."

Dean squinted, trying to figure out if you were being sarcastic or honest. Both was typically the answer, though there was more to it.

"I mean, really, Dean, letting one measly monster throw you across the room and leave your little brother to finish the job?" You clicked your tongue thrice and shook your head.

"Alright already. I got it. I got beat. Don't rub it in." Dean closed his eyes and took a breath.

He apparently was not in the mood to play. But you figured a little bit of play might cheer the poor man up.

You lowered your voice, repeating what he said twice. "Don't rub it in. Those words don't ring a bell. In fact-"

The sound that came from Dean could have been considered a growl, but it was too broken to be anything but an annoyed scowl. "Y/N..."

"Dean," you were tempted to mock. You stood up, setting the camera aside once more. "Quit complaining."

You moved to stand at his side and after a moment, Dean turned his palm over. You took it without hesitation. His fingers intertwined yours tightly. His neck cracked as he strained to look up at you. His breathing had steadied, though his chest was still exerting extra force to breathe normally.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I do a whole lotta complaining." His mouth remained open for a moment, as if he was going to say something else and changed his mind.

"You think getting hurt gives you a pass?" You asked, your voice softening. Dean's hand tugged, the question causing an eyeroll, but you obliged, squatting down to sit on the floor. This made the two of you much closer.

He pursed his lips, clearly happier at the shorter distance. "I certainly think so."

You rested your chin on the edge of the cushion, about half of a foot away from Dean. Just as his breathing seemed normal, yours caught. You were close enough to just lean over and though your back might be uncomfortable, it would have been worth it, to press your lips against his. The look in his eyes agreed. Dean swallowed, not looking away. His thumb began to run over your knuckles. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it.

"Dean-"

"Kiss me." His voice was but a whisper, the two words unnecessarily soft, a plead. It would be rude to not oblige in a time like this. You propped your body closer against the couch, using a hand to hold his face. You met plush, soft lips, quite the pleasant surprise from the thought of dry, cracked expectations after the day he had. The kiss lingered for a few moments, nothing more than the two of you together.

You pulled away. Heart hammering in your chest, you were startled with the scary fact that you cared for Dean. He was not another one night stand. He was not a friend or your father's. He was not a hunter. He was so much more than all of those.

"Wait," Dean said, reaching for my hand again. Urgeny filled his eyes and color darkened the freckles on his cheeks. "Don't go."

"Who said I was going anywhere, sugar?" Your use of the nickname he told you to call him the night you first met, some joke about being sweet, brought a hint of a smile to Dean's face.

"Good," he huffed.

"As much as I agree what we're doing would be a fun way to pass the time, I actually want to hear how you're doing. Do you need some Advil or more pillows or something?" You asked.

A crooked grin filled his face. This was the first time he had looked at ease since arriving a couple of hours ago. Maybe there was some hope, after all.

Wattpad/Pinterest: writerfangirlbooks

Tags: @akshi8278

#supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #spn dean #dean #dean winchester #winchesters #the winchesters #winchester boys #winchester brothers #bobby singer #dean x reader #dean x y/n

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pepperidgefarmremembers · 4 years

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Here we go, final prompt. Thank you all for the reviews and making my first Kataang Week special.

I do not own ATLA

Day 7: The Red Thread of Fate

"Oh, Aang, can we go back? It would be so great to visit again," Katara asked her fiancée while she eagerly sat up in Appa's saddle. Their diplomatic duties went by quicker than usual, allowing for an easygoing ride back to the Southern Water Tribe. Katara knew her Dad wasn't expecting them back for at least two days. She wanted to take advantage of alone time between Aang and herself, which was sparse these past few months.

"Okay," Aang sighed, "but if I have to save them from a volcano again I'm going to blame you." His wife giggled, crawling up to Appa's head to give the airbender a sweet kiss on the lips. "I predict that Makapu Village will have dormant volcanoes for our entire stay," she whispered in a spot-on Aunt Wu impersonation. He himself was in no hurry to relive those memories. Although it was amazing that Katara's prediction seemed to be true, his stomach clenched upon remembering his failed attempts at flirting, or aloof flirting as it were. He felt embarrassed thinking about this and then his wife interrupted this thought. "You know, this is when I realized we might end up together. It's the time everything clicked for me. Of course, I was in denial and unsure for a while afterwards, but I started to see you in a new light. After the prediction, I wandered if you were supposed to be my husband."

Aang eyes shifted as he began to descend Appa for landing. "That's what did it? If she didn't have that fortune she would have never considered me? Ugh," he thought. Katara, being ever aware of the airbender's mood change, noticed his quiet anger. "Are you okay, sweetie?", she asked with a raised brow. Without time for her to add more questions, he quickly responded, "Fine." As they jumped down from Appa and began to walk in thick silence, she tried again to erase the tension between them. "I know you'll tell me whenever you're ready, but I have to say this is not what I pictured when we decided to have a mini-vacation just the two of us." Torn between expressing himself and possibly having a good time, he chose the former, even if it would be unpleasant. "I didn't know the fortune is what made you decide to see me as more of a friend. What if we never came here and you never got that fortune? I hate to think this would have never happened," he said with his eyes closed. The waterbender reached out and held his hands in hers, "Aang, first of all, I think I would have noticed eventually. Looking back on it, I liked you, too, I just didn't want to admit it to myself until I thought I lost you after fighting Azula. Also, maybe it was fate's way of nudging us in the right direction." He met her eyes and smiled after what felt like an eternity, "I'm so happy to hear that, Katara." They shared a deep kiss before walking into Aunt Wu's hut.

When the couple sat down in the lobby, a tall, gangly girl no older than Aang came out to greet them. "Avatar Aang! And...Master Katara," she said with a hint of bitterness at the end. Katara had swore she saw the girl glare at her but it wasn't long enough for her to be certain. "Hi, Meng! Please, call me Aang. Wow, you're almost as tall as me now! We were hoping to get another fortune from Aunt Wu, I'd love to catch up while Katara is inside," he stated excitedly. His fiancée began to have her own shifting eyes. "Why do they seem so comfortable together? Did something happen between the two of them?", she asked herself. Meng bowed to the couple, "Sounds great, Aang! I'll be right back with some green tea and bean curd puffs." As she walked away, his body jumped at the sight of his now angry fiancee. "What's wrong, sweetie?

Katara responded flatly with her eyes averted from Aang. "I didn't know you were so close. Did...you used to like her?" He frowned whilst trying to suppress a giggle, "No, but she did like me. I told her I was only interested in you and she understood." Her face relaxed after hearing those words. "Oh. Sorry. Wow, we both made some assumptions today. I guess we're even now," she laughed. Their moment was interrupted by Meng stomping loudly into the lobby. Their hands broke apart as their faces both attempted to hide a smirk at the obvious jealousy. The couple thanked Meng for the tea and snacks. As the couple shared stories with Meng about their travels and battles, she noticed the way they looked at each other. There was electricity between them, and she knew that they were meant to be.

Aunt Wu gracefully glided into the lobby and gasped at the couple alternating between absentmindedly touching each other and blushing. She saw the energy surrounding them and an invisible red thread tying them together by their pinkies. She never saw them interact for long the last time they were here. But it all made sense to her now. "Ah, Avatar Aang and Master Katara! What a pleasure to have you here now," she said graciously with a bow. Aang stood up with Katara, their hands interlaced, "Please, just call me Aang. I think Katara is anxious to get started, she can go first." "Actually, I think you should both come in together. This is highly unorthodox, I know, but it must be done." The young couple shrugged as they walked into the large, incensed filled room.

The three of them sat around a fire, with Katara practically bouncing with excitement. Aang couldn't help but to smile at his beautiful fiancée. Aunt Wu began, "Have you heard of the red thread of fate?" The couple shook their heads. Aunt Wu explained, "It means that two people are destined to be together. They are meant to be and will always find a way to each other. This is signified by an invisible red thread tied to their pinkies. I see this thread on you now. The thread may stretch and become tangled at times but you both will always find a way back to each other." Aang raised an eyebrow with a hint of suspicion, while Katara looked dreamily with a wide grin.

Aunt Wu ignored Aang's suspicious look and asked, "Can I see both of your left palms?" The couples held out both of their left palms, holding them side by side. "I see that there was much separation between the two of you. Not only in space, but in time as well. You were always destined to find each other. Katara, while you were meant to marry a powerful bender, even tall and handsome as I said," she winked at Aang, "you have another duty. In Aang's palm, there is a line that is broken. You have a small line in your palm that fits exactly where his line needs to connect. Your fate was to help the Avatar fulfill his role in determining the outcome of the battle between good and evil. You will always be connected, both in this lifetime, and the next."

Katara and Aang's mouths hung open in amazement. After composing themselves, they thanked Aunt Wu, said goodbye to Meng, and walked out into the street. Wordless for several moments, the couple hugged each other as tight as when they reunited after Aang defeated Ozai. Both of their cheeks stained with tears as the weight of Aunt Wu's fortune washed over them. Aang was the first to speak, "K-Katara, do you think that we will still be together in the next life? Do you think it's possible?" Gasping harshly for air, she tried to return her breathing to normal. She pulled back and kissed Aang on the lips gently. As she broke the kiss, her eyes softened while looking into his grey eyes. "I've seen and heard so many unfathomable things since I first met you, I believe anything is possible. You're the Avatar after all and you changed the world." He chuckled and said seriously, "I think I will always find my way back to you. We're meant to be."

#kataang week #kataang #aang #katara #atla #atla fanfic #avatar the last airbender

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tessisawriter · 5 years

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What Real Support Looks Like, Part 1 (Mat Barzal)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

A/N: This originally started out as a happy story about Mat Barzal and Jordan Eberle’s bromance, but it turned into something far more important. I was heartened to see Jacob Trouba support his fiancé’s career to the point where he was willing to move to another country for her. For that, I deeply admire him, and I wish more hockey players would support their S/O’s like that. To everyone who reads this story: don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do. Pursue your dreams no matter what. And you deserve true love, so don’t settle for anything less.

I also created a playlist of songs that have influenced me throughout the series.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, alcohol, sexism

Word Count: 2.8k

Gemma Sullivan smiled as she put the last touches of makeup on her face.

She had been dating Mat Barzal for almost two years now, and she couldn’t be happier. They were each other’s best friend, and they supported each other in everything they did. Gemma lifted him up when he had a bad game or when the Isles were losing, and Mat had been her biggest cheerleader through college and supported her career aspirations. Gemma was going to graduate from college in three months, and then apply to master’s programs to earn an MA in history. Before she could even apply, though, she had to finish her senior thesis. She just took a major step forward this morning when she handed in her full draft for her advisor to edit. Today was also her 22nd birthday, so Mat was going to take her out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate.

Honestly, Gemma was happy that the draft was done because this past month, she had been writing so much that she’d barely been able to spend quality time with Mat. She couldn’t wait to get back a semblance of normalcy, and tonight would be the beginning of that.

Gemma walked out of the bathroom and into hers and Mat’s bedroom, where her red dress was on a hanger. Red was Mat’s favorite color on her, and she bought the dress for that reason. She wanted to surprise him. Gemma slipped it on and zipped it; thank God the zipper was on the side and not the back.

She looked at the clock on the night table, and it read, to her surprise, 8:30PM. Their reservations were at 8:45, and Mat was supposed to be home at 8, so she didn’t bother setting an alarm to make sure she stayed on schedule. Was it possible that he forgot? Gemma immediately shut down that thought. There was no way he forgot; he was probably just running late from hanging out with Tito. She grabbed her heels and sat on the bed, putting each shoe on. As soon as she was done, she heard the front door open.

“Babe?” Mat called, but his voice wasn’t clear like it normally was.

“Where are you?” he called again, and when Gemma heard his staggered footsteps coming towards the bedroom, her heart dropped.

“Hey, babe, there you are!” Mat wasn’t just drunk: he was absolutely hammered. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were glazed over. He approached the bed and gave Gemma a sloppy kiss on the top of her head, and she smelled his breath, which reeked of vodka. This kind of behavior was completely out of character for him, and she could barely believe her eyes (or her nose).

“Babe, what happened? We have dinner reservations in 15 minutes,” Gemma said, concerned.

“I was out with Tito and some of the boys,” Mat replied, “And it was totally epic!” He dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter and stumbled into Gemma’s lap. Not wanting to smell of alcohol, she shoved him off and onto the bed next to her.

“You look so sexy. Is this all for me?” Mat asked.

“We’re supposed to go out to dinner in 15 minutes,” she repeated.

“Why?”

Gemma’s heart sunk even further.

“It’s my birthday, Mat,” she said.

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He looked at her, expecting an answer, but she was silent, trying to keep herself from crying. Presumably to fill the silence, Mat said, “Whoops, my bad,” and started laughing again.

His laugh set Gemma off.

“You forgot? You fucking FORGOT?” she exploded. “I’m generally easygoing, but today of all days? Really?”

“Jesus, Gem, relax. We celebrated it on another day last year, so we can do it again this year.”

“Are you saying that you’re bailing on dinner tonight?” she asked.

“I’m not bailing, I’m rescheduling. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” she yelled, “No big deal? Are you kidding me right now? It’s not just my birthday; I handed in my thesis draft today. But you probably forgot about that too,” she added bitterly.

“That goddamn thesis is the reason I haven’t seen you for weeks on end!” Mat yelled back. “You’re always busy writing, or reading, or whatever you’re doing. Sometimes I wish you weren’t going for your master’s.”

Gemma’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe he just said that.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

His eyes widened. He must’ve known he crossed the line, but that didn’t stop him from opening his mouth again. “I don’t know, you just work so hard, and you don’t have to worry about money because I’ll take care of you.”

If Gemma wasn’t seeing red before, she was now.

“This is not just about money, Mathew. Yes, I want to be able to make some of my own money, but if I wanted to be rich, I would’ve gone into computer science or finance. I’m really passionate about history, and I need to be fulfilled intellectually. You said you understood that when we first met; you even said that you love how driven I am!”

“I do, but…”

“But what? There are no but’s. You either support my career or you don’t, and you clearly don’t, so we’re done!”

Gemma took her heels off and threw them on the floor before retrieving her backpack, overnight bag, and a pair of sneakers from the closet. She shoved the sneakers on her feet and started ransacking the drawers. As she took out essential clothing and stuffed it in her bag, Mat just sat there on the bed.

She started to zip up the bag when Mat said, “Where are you going?”

“Where am I going?” she parroted back, incredulous. “Oh, so now you care. How generous of you,” her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“This is our home,” he replied.

“No, it’s your home now,” she said with a calm and even tone that surprised her. “You promised that you would support me and my career no matter what, but you clearly didn’t mean it. Don’t bother trying to call or text because I don’t want to see you.”

And with that, she picked up her two bags, walked out of the bedroom, picked up her car keys on the table in the foyer, and opened the door, slamming it as she exited.

Gemma ran down the stairs as fast as she could. As soon as she stepped outside, she was greeted with pouring rain.

“Oh, this is just perfect!” she muttered to herself. She forgot her umbrella in the apartment, and there was no way she was going back there, so she raced to her car, hopped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door. She threw her bags on the back seat before turning on the ignition and pulling out of the driveway.

She drove down the road to the next intersection, and after turning right, she pulled over. As soon as Gemma stopped the car, the floodgates opened. Her life was in tatters. The man who she thought would always be there for her stabbed her in the back. She felt so alone, and when she remembered that she was homeless now, she cried even harder. Where was she going to sleep tonight?

She restarted the car and began driving to the Eberle residence.

When Gemma first started dating Mat, she didn’t expect to get a best friend out of it, but that is exactly what Lauren Eberle became. Right from the start, she and Lauren hit it off due to their mutual low tolerance for bullshit, and an epic friendship was born. She had been her rock through everything, and Gemma knew that she could ask her for advice on anything, no matter how uncomfortable the subject. Lauren’s husband, Jordan, was Mat’s closest friend on the team besides Tito, and Gemma was fond of him as well. He taught her how to play the guitar.

She could only hope that now that she broke up with Mat, they would still be there for her.

Gemma came to a stop in front of Lauren and Jordan’s house less than five minutes later. It was still raining heavily outside, so she grabbed her bags and walked to the house. She already looked like a drenched rat, so why bother running?

She reached the door and rang the doorbell. When the door opened, it was, to her intense surprise, Jordan standing at the threshold. She assumed that he was with Mat and Tito when they went out.

“Gemma? Happy birthday! What are you doing here?” Jordan said.

“Thanks. I’m sorry to bother you, but is Lauren home?”

“Yeah, she’s inside. Come on in.” He held the door open wide, and she entered the house.

“Lauren, Gemma is here!” Jordan shouted, and then said to Gemma, “You’re soaking wet! You should take off your shoes and socks, they’ll make you feel even colder than you already are.”

“You’re right, thanks, Jordan,” she said, holding her tears back with great difficulty.

“No problem,” he replied, and he left as Lauren entered the foyer.

“Gemma, happy birth…” Lauren stopped talking as soon as she saw the dripping girl. “What happened?”

“Mat and I, we…we got into a fight,” Gemma started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry! Let’s get you some dry clothes and we can talk about it, yeah?” Lauren said.

“I brought clothes with me,” Gemma managed to choke out and gesture to her bags in between sobs.

“Let’s go get you dry.” Lauren put her arm around Gemma and led her through the house to hers and Jordan’s bedroom. Gemma opened her soaked bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, an old Trinity College Dublin t-shirt from her semester abroad, and a thick pair of socks. Lauren sat on the bed patiently as she went into the bathroom to change. She emerged, and the two of them walked back to the living room and settled into the couch. Gemma could see Jordan in the kitchen due to the open layout, and he was rustling through the cabinet where they kept their glasses and cups.

“What happened?” Lauren asked. “I thought you two were going to dinner to celebrate your birthday and thesis draft.”

“We were supposed to, but Mat showed up 15 minutes before our reservation completely drunk. He said he went out with Tito and some of the boys.”

“That’s odd. Jordan has been home all evening, and he generally goes with them when they go out.”

“Well, they went out without him, and Mat forgot my birthday. He said we could go out another day, and when I protested, he went on a rant about how he hasn’t seen me in weeks due to my thesis and…and…” Gemma started crying again.

Lauren put her arms around her, and Gemma sobbed into her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Lauren asked when Gemma pulled away, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“He said that he wishes I wasn’t going for my master’s degree, and that I don’t need to have a career because he can ‘take care of me,’” she formed air quotes with her hands for emphasis.

“What the fuck?” Lauren said.

“I’m going to kick his ass when I see him tomorrow,” Jordan chimed in, walking into the living room with two mugs. He handed one to Lauren and one to Gemma, and she saw that he made tea.

“I figured you were going to be talking for a while, and you were so wet when you got here, Gem, that hot tea seemed to be in order.” Jordan said, sitting in the armchair perpendicular to the couch, giving her and Lauren a little space.

For the first time since her fight with Mat, Gemma’s heart felt warm and fuzzy.

“Thank you, Jordan. Seriously, what would I do without you? Either of you,” she said, turning to Lauren. “I’m not going to lie, I thought after I told you we broke up, you might not want me here.”

“You’re my best friend, Gem,” Lauren said, “You are always, always welcome here, and it doesn’t matter who you’re dating.”

“I second that,” Jordan interjected. “You’re like a little sister to me.”

“Guys, you’re going to make me cry again,” Gemma said, putting down her tea on the coffee table before hugging Lauren.

“We’re always going to be there for you, Gemma. You can stay in the guest room as long as you need.” Lauren said.

“I already put your bags in there,” Jordan added.

“Thank you, both of you. God, I sound like a broken record.” She laughed, and they laughed with her.

“So what happened after he said that?” Lauren asked.

“I broke up with him, took as much as I could carry, and left,” Gemma replied, and she picked up her mug and took a sip of the tea.

“I just can’t believe it. He always talks about how proud he is of you, that you’re going somewhere in life, and that he loves how passionate you are,” Jordan said. “But if he’s so threatened by you, you did the right thing breaking up with him.”

“You think he’s threatened by me?” Gemma asked.

“I don’t know what exactly his problem is, but that’s the closest thing to what you described,” he answered. “I know you’ve been busy this month, but every relationship gets tested that way. You deserve to know what real support looks like and someone who isn’t going to get scared when the going gets tough. You are the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you truly are going places, Gemma Sullivan.”

“Aw, Jordan,” she said before she stood up, walked over to the armchair, and hugged him tight.

“Thank you, for everything,” she said into his shoulder.

“No thanks needed, it’s the truth.” Jordan replied, pulling away and hitting her arm playfully.

“He’s right, Gemma,” Lauren said. “Everyone admires how passionate and determined you are, not to mention your brains. Someone is going to treat you like the queen you are, even if it isn’t Mat. Speaking of him,” Lauren continued, “What did he do when you were packing to leave?”

“He just sat there on the bed, but when I was about to leave, it seemed to hit him that I was leaving. He tried to say it was our home.”

Lauren and Jordan listened intently, thinking she had more to say, but she didn’t.

“That’s an odd thing to say after one hurts their girlfriend’s feelings so badly,” Lauren said.

“Yeah. I guess he was too plastered,” she muttered, and then she yawned.

“You look exhausted,” Lauren commented.

“It just hit me all of a sudden,” Gemma said, looking at her watch, which read 10:01, “I guess you really can cry yourself out.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Jordan suggested. “You’ll feel a lot better in the morning. Well, physically, at least.”

“It’s 10 o’clock, I don’t go to bed this early.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fight it. Your body needs to recover from today,” Lauren advised.

“You’re right,” Gemma said, “Good night. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Jordan replied.

Gemma turned away and walked down the hall towards the spare bedroom, but she stopped and turned back around, only to watch the couple in the living room. Jordan was now on the couch with his arm around Lauren, and he kissed the top of her head. Gemma smiled; she really didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she had to address one more thing.

“Hey guys?” Gemma said, and they looked up at her.

“Yeah?” Lauren said, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t expect Mat to get his shit together tonight, but if he comes here or calls to ask where I am, could you please tell him that I’m not taking him back and will pick up the rest of my stuff when I figure out a new living arrangement?”

“Of course, Gem! We won’t let him get anywhere near you, I promise,” Lauren said.

“Thanks.” She smiled at them and walked into the spare bedroom.

After she got into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin, Gemma realized that today wasn’t completely horrible. Lauren and Jordan had shown her what real support looks like—putting a roof over her head when she showed up on their doorstep and giving her great advice. Sure, she suffered a nasty breakup, but in the process, she realized just how amazing her friends were, and she couldn’t be more grateful to have them. She knew the days, weeks, and months ahead were going to be really difficult, but she was ready to face every challenge that came her way.

@averytiredlawstudent @star-adorned @theforevermorereject

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steves-legs · 5 years

Text

My Brother’s Best Friend (Chris Evans x Reader)

Masterlist | Requests

Summary: Back home in Boston after your final year at Columbia University, you expect an easygoing and relaxed summer. But those plans go right out the window when your childhood crush, Chris, comes back home after filming a big movie, you see it as a chance to maybe have the summer fling you’d always hoped for. But the fact that he’s your older brother’s best friend may complicate that just a bit.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, fluff!!!, & some angst bc im feeling angsty

...

You tap your index finger against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing off your phone. You can’t help but feel a sense of contentment as you drive down the street you grew up on. Your music cuts out just before the chorus and your ringer goes off over your car’s speakers. You jump at the sound, letting out a soft gasp before you move to turn down the obnoxiously loud ringtone. You glance over at the screen for a moment. ‘Danny’. You tap the “Answer” button and rest your hands back on the steering wheel.

“What’s up?” “Hey, Y/N. You almost here?” your brother calls from his end. “Just pulling up. Why?” you ask as you turn into your parents’ driveway. There are a suspicious number of cars parked on the road in front of your parents’ house. “Oh, thank God. Mom's been buggin’ me about whether you were close or not. Dinner’s soon,” Danny says. You can hear your mother’s annoyed gasp from the other line. “Love you, mom,” he calls, hushing his voice to a whisper. “She’s gonna kill me.” “You’re damn right she is.” You slow to a halt right behind... Mr. Evans’ car. What the fuck? “You guys havin’ a party or something? A lot of, uh, cars on the street, Danny,” you ask, somewhat annoyed. You really just wanted to bring your bags in, say hi to everyone, eat dinner, and go the fuck to sleep immediately. You groan, shutting your car off and pulling your keys out of the ignition. You unplug and cradle your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you pack your things into your purse. You’ll get your other bags later. “Fuuuuuuck, the cars,” he groans. His voice hushes down into a whisper as he continues, “Yes. It was supposed to be a surprise.” You can hear him smack a hand over his forehead.

You can hear the sounds of laughter and chit-chat, as well as music from the backyard as you climb out of the car. You shut the door with a sharp snap and as if on cue, the voices and music die down almost immediately. “I’ll do my best to act surprised, don’t worry,” you snicker, not bothering to wait for a response before you hang up and make your way up to the front door. Of course, only the outer glass door is shut. The red front door is wide open, so you let yourself right in. You play the role of the unknowing surprise party victim and call out to your family members. “Mom? Dad? Danny? Red?” You even throw your dog’s name into the mix for maximum effect. “Y/N?” a voice that, though familiar, you know definitely doesn’t belong to any of your family members calls. You tilt your head to the left slightly, dropping your purse on the table in the front hall, and make your way towards the source. You head right through the doorway leading into the kitchen and see none other than Chris standing there, a beer in his hand. You can feel your heart rate increase almost immediately. That flimsy red shirt’s doing its absolute best to hold itself together under the strain of his muscles. The collar is frayed slightly, probably from being washed over and over. The little nicks in the fabric allow the thin chain round his neck to show. Did he somehow get even more ripped since the last time you’d seen him? He has the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. He gives you an excited smile when he has visual confirmation that it is, in fact, you.

“Oh my God, Y/N! Hey!” he exclaims, setting his drink down and moving around the island counter to give you a hug. You take a few steps forward as well, wrapping your arms around his neck as his slide around your waist. “It’s been too long,” you hum, beginning to pull away from the hug. Chris lets his hands linger on your hips for a few seconds before he takes a step back to grab his beer. “I know, I haven’t seen you since, what, two Christmases ago? How have you been, miss college graduate?” he asks, beaming with pride. “Really great. I’m glad to be home for a bit,” you reply.

Chris nods along. “It is nice being home,” he agrees thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer. “So what’s the plan after your time off? You gonna be producing my next big movie?” He smirks at you, a brow cocked. “We’ll see,” you sigh. “I actually scored an internship at some obscure film company in the city.” “Are you serious? That’s awesome,” he comments excitedly. “It’s alright, nothing too amazing yet but we’ll get there,” you sigh. Chris shrugs, taking another swig of his beer. “We all start somewhere. Who knows? Soon, maybe you’ll be head of Columbia Pictures or something.” “You flatter me, Christopher,” you say, letting out a soft laugh as you make your way past Chris and over to the fridge for your own ice-cold beer. You crack it open with the bottle opener on the counter. “But I think you think too much of me.” Chris is already turned to face you, his elbow propped against the marble countertop. “It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he replies sweetly. “You were always writing those insanely good scripts for your school plays... Writing scenes just for Scott and me to perform, for no reason other than so you could feel for the fluidity of the story. You’re talented, Y/N, whether you think so or not.” You raise your brows at Chris, a delicate smile crossing your lips. “Thank you,” you say softly. He only nods. “Don’t thank me, I’m just giving you a reality check, Y/N,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to speak, the sound of the sliding door being thrown open distracts you.

You glance over as your brother storms right in, without closing the door behind him, and he stops dead in his tracks, turning his head to glare directly at you. “Y/N, serious question for you: do you know how old half of the people here are? Because they’ve been crouched real low behind the bushes for, like, quite a bit, just waitin’ to surprise you!” Danny exclaims, glaring down at you. He turns to fire at Chris, who can’t help but let out a short snort at your brother’s over-the-top attitude. “And you! You’re nothing but a little enabler! Get your ass outside!” Danny hikes his thumb towards the back door and Chris, a massively goofy grin plastered on his face, suppresses a laugh as he waves you off and heads towards the door. “Sorry...” You can’t help the lingering grin on your face, though you truly are a tad sorry. “Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to our arthritic grandfather,” he bites back, squinting at you as he ushers you around the island and out through the sliding door right after Chris. He keeps walking through the crowd of people and back over by where Dodger had chosen to lounge, in the shade under the oak tree with the swing tied to it.

A mess of family members, family friends, and your own hometown friends all leap out from behind the bushes, trees, and fence and scream collectively, “SURPRISE!” with a few stray “WELCOME HOME”‘s. You don’t even have to feign your look of surprise; you’re honestly shocked this many people missed you enough to come to your homecoming party. You let out a scream, laughing into your hands as you recover from your glee. “Oh my God!” you cry out. You glance back at your brother, who has an eyebrow cocked at you. You throw your arms around him happily, turning to wave to everyone as they shout hello’s and ‘we missed you’s. Your parents enter your line of vision with arms open for a hug and, of course, you hug them back. You snuggle between your mother and father in a sea of ‘I missed you’s and ‘I’m so glad you’re home’s. You finally pull away from them and, a soft grin on your face, begin to speak. “God, okay, I will talk to you guys later. I gotta talk to some of the guests,” you say softly. “Thank you... for doing this. It’s nice.” “Of course, of course. Go be a good host,” your mother teases pushing you out towards the party. Everyone had already gone back to their own personal conversations. Well, all except your childhood best friend, Talia. She’s standing there, audibly squealing and therefore effectively alerting you of her presence mere moments before her arms shoot around your shoulders. She’s got you trapped in one of her world-famous hugs. “Y/N!” she exclaims happily. You giggle, returning the gesture. “I missed you so much, Talia,” you exclaim. “I have a lot of juicy college-grade party shit to talk to you about.” “Shit, I... Shit... Can’t wait to....” she trails off. You cock an eyebrow at her, obviously perplexed by her out-of-character behavior. Talia has her eyes darting past you, though. She can’t stop glancing over your shoulder. “Did... did something happen with you and Chris recently?” she asks suspiciously. You eye your best friend with an equal amount of skepticism. “Uh, nothing I’m not aware of. Why?” “On your six... But don’t look too quickly. Make it look nonchalant!” she orders, rather loudly. You roll your eyes, peeking over your shoulder to see Chris eyeing you. His eyes are fixated on you in a way you’d never seen from him before- especially not directed at you. He gives you a soft, flirtatious smirk and, like the cherry on fucking top, winks. You give him a small smile before whirling your head back around to glare at Talia, brows furrowed. “What about him?” you ask. Talia slaps a hand over her forehead. “He’s been watching you this whole time, Danny had to come in to collect you because you were so enthralled in whatever conversation you two were having, he more-than-triple-checked the time of this party just to be sure he’d be here when you got here. He just fucking winked at you, Y/N, and he--” She’s counting each reason on her fingers as she goes. You hold a hand up, cutting her off before she can continue. “Talia, I know Chris more than anyone. He’s one of my best friends and I promise that he’s just a big flirt. He likes to flirt.” “I’m just saying, you two have always had such amazing chemistry that I’d be surprised if I didn’t get a Save the Date for your wedding in the next two years,” she snickers, taking a sip of whatever concoction she’d stirred up in her solo cup. “I still have that sketchbook where we drew up our own personal wedding plans. I could dust it off and hand it to Chris; he’d get the hint.”

You open your mouth to speak, but immediately bite your tongue as your brother’s arm slings around your shoulder. He leans against you, forcing you to lean a bit more to the right to keep straight. “We gossipin’?” he teases. Your roll your eyes, pushing his arm off of you. “Mind your business, Daniel,” Talia interjects. Danny feigns a look of pain, a hand to his chest. “But I’m sooo nosey... Please share?” You give Talia a pleading look and she takes the reigns, understanding fully. “She’s just pissed that her parents invited the Robinsons,” she snickers. You have to hand it to her, it’s believable.

Back in elementary school, you unashamedly beat up the eldest Robinson boy when he wouldn’t stop teasing you about your braces (yes, you had braces). He deserved it, yes, but you had broken the poor guy’s nose.

You nod along with Talia’s story, eyes darting over towards Chris once again. Danny eyes you suspiciously, fully aware of where your eyes are, but doesn’t comment on it. “Okaaaaaay,” he murmurs. “Well, I’m sure Eli Robinson isn’t planning on bullying you anymore, so buck up and talk to the rest of our guests!” “You never know. He might notice some teensy, tiny flaw, somehow, and start throwing hands,” Talia snickers. Danny rolls his eyes. He lets his arm drop from around your shoulders and calls Chris over. You glance over your shoulder as he gets up from the blue lawn chair slowly and starts heading over. Dodger pads up behind his master as he nears you. You whip your head back around to give Talia a pleading look, but she’s got her expectant eyes on Chris as he nears. ”Yes! Yes! Yes!” she squeals. “We haven’t gotten a chance to catch up with him yet!” No. No. No. No. No.

“Yeah?” Chris’s soft voice asks as he plants himself on your left. Your so-called best friend grins up at him like a fool as Danny, turning to Chris, begins to speak. “Can you babysit? Y/N’s afraid she’ll fistfight Eli if not properly supervised.” “Uh,” the blond glances down at you, a brow cocked as he takes a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I mean, any excuse to hang out with Y/N.” You shudder. Danny cocks an eyebrow. “This was supposed to be a punishment. I’m supposed to be killing two birds with one stone.” “What did I do?” Chris demands, raising his voice with a laugh. Talia still has that idiotic grin plastered on her face. It tells you that she remembers Chris and Danny’s banter just as vividly as you. “You’re sittin’ over there, obviously hung up on some mystery chick, and you won’t even tell me anything about her. You’ve been dropping vague comments about her for the past week and it’s getting annoying! Even Dodge’s pissed! Right?” You feel your heart drop as Danny glances down at Dodger and receives a sharp bark in response. “He said no,” Chris replies, obviously tense. “Well, Dodger is a compulsive liar. I don’t know why I looked to him in the first place,” Danny retorts. Chris rolls his eyes, easing back into a comfortable posture as your brother continues on. “If you’re not gonna tell me anything about the girl, drop any hints about Age of Ultron, or do sports with me, what’s the point of being bro’s with a famous guy?” he sneers teasingly, his voice dropping into his frat boy impression when he says ‘bro’.

They joked like this all the time, especially since Chris got launched into stardom. Really, they loved each other. They were best friends. Danny was one of the many people outside of his family that Chris felt kept him grounded. And, well, Danny joked that Chris was just another guy to slowly schmooze into buying him a car, ‘like those YouTuber kids do’.

“God, where would you be if I hadn’t made it big?” “Playing Captain America, probably,” “That right?” Chris quips. You sigh. “Yeah. And probably gettin’ the girl, unlike you.”

Chris shakes his head. “No, trust me, you wouldn’t want her.” Danny narrows his eyes at Chris, an uncomfortable silence hovering over the four of you. Dodger whines impatiently before he nuzzles up to your leg. You reach down to pat him gently before he prances off, probably to attend a more... jovial conversation.

“D-Danny’s just being an asshole, Chris,” you stammer, trying to smooth over how uncomfortable this encounter had become. Talia sees this and speaks up, “... And this asshole is gonna drive me to get more alcohol since I’m sorta drunk and he is not.” Before Danny can come up with any defense, Talia grabs him by the forearm and yanks him towards the side gate. You glance up at Chris. “Sorry,” you say softly. “You’re his baby sister. I get it. Remember how much I used to mess with Scotty back in the day?” He shrugs. You let out a soft laugh. “I don’t remember anything as vividly as I remember when you convinced him to pee his pants on the front lawn,” you tease. Chris groans audibly. “It was so mean,” he says, trying to remain serious despite his laughter.

He points down to your half-empty beer. “Want another?” he asks. You chug down the remainder of your drink and reply with a short, soft-spoken ‘yes’. He grins. “Attagirl.” You follow him through the crowd, weaving between conversation circles, and up onto the patio, both of you dropping your empty bottles into the recycling bin as you make your way over to the oversized cooler. Chris kneels down and peels it open. You follow suit and the two of you gaze into the ‘Adults-Only’ red cooler expectantly. “Pick your poison,” he says softly, reaching for another beer. You shake your head. “Nothing’s jumping out at me,” you sigh, shaking your head. Chris lets the cooler close with a soft thud. “Well, now we have some thinkin’ to do. What would you want to drink for your last meal?” You lean back slightly, taken aback by how quickly he’d turned the conversation into a hypothetical in which you were on death row. “Uhm,” you ponder this for a moment before responding. “Somethin’ much stronger than a measly 8% beer.” You run your fingertips along the circular curvature of the bottom of his beer bottle. You don’t mean for the gesture to be so... obscene, somehow, but it is. Chris’s cheeks flush red. He stumbles over his words for a moment. “Wh-W-Wh... What do you have in mind?” he asks, swallowing hard. You cock an eyebrow. The man who can’t be moved is running full-speed into whatever he thinks you have planned. “Whiskey,” you reply, taking a step back. You make your way past him, shoulders brushing as you head through the sliding door and into the kitchen. Chris follows, like a lost puppy.

You sashay around the island counter and find yourself a glass. “Want some?” you ask, glancing over at Chris as he closes the sliding door behind him. He nods, setting his beer down on the counter absentmindedly. You reach up for a second identical glass and make your way over to the small alcohol tray and peruse for the exact whiskey you're looking for. You pour Chris’s first and hand it to him before pouring your own. “Thank you,” he says softly, holding his glass up. You give him a lopsided smile as you clink your glass with his and you both down your drinks. You pour another for each of you. The combination of your first beer and a glass of whiskey sends a familiar warmth through your veins. You let out a shaky breath. “Can I ask you something without it coming off strange?” he asks softly. You gaze up at him as you lean forward on your elbows over the island counter. He stands still on the opposite side, between two of the barstools. “Maybe. Ask away.” “Do you have a boyfriend down in New York?” he asks. You feel your body tense up, but you don’t let your being caught off-guard show through. “No, I don’t,” you purr, doing your best to keep a poker face. “Is this... mystery gal anything serious?” Chris watches you for a long time, throwing back his second drink. “She could be,” he replies, swallowing rather hard. You shake your head. “Crying shame,” you reply, straightening out and finishing off your drink. You can hear the soft sounds of the Teskey Brothers playing even from inside the house. “Why’s that?” You ignore his question, moving right ahead with yours. “Do I know her?” “Who?” “The girl,” you reply suspiciously. Chris shakes his head. “If I won’t tell Danny, what makes you think that I’d tell you?” “Because I love my bother, but he’s an idiot and you know it.” Chris lets out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Yeah, you know her,” he says softly. You shake your head, smiling despite your heart aching. “Oh my God, just tell me already,” you practically beg. Chris sighs, setting down his glass with resignation. “She... I don’t think I should...” he says softly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone to know about it yet. I’m not sure it’ll happen.” You gaze up at Chris with resignation. You know you’re not gonna get an answer out of him, so you yield. “I bet. Well, I’m gonna head back out, okay? I really don’t want a babysitter all day,” you reply sharply, not really listening when Chris retorts with some silly comment.

...

The homecoming party goes on for a few more hours before people start saying their goodbyes. You try not to make it obvious, but you are overjoyed that you get to sleep in your old bed again. You see Talia chatting with Danny in the hallway by the bathroom and you, without another word, shut the door behind Mrs. Robinson and make your way upstairs. You drag your feet somewhat as you make your way down the familiar hallway and finally stop in front of your old bedroom door. It’s cracked open slightly and your bedside lamp is on, to your surprise, so you push the door open a little further to see Chris gazing down into one of your photo albums. “You lost?” you singsong. Chris jumps about ten feet into the air, spinning around to face you. “S-Sorry, Y/N, I just... I remembered you had these. I should’ve asked, I know, but--” You hold a hand up to cut him off as you move to sit on your bed. “You’re acting so jumpy, Chris...” you comment. He sighs, shutting the dark blue photo album and pushing it back into its spot on the shelf. “I guess I am,” he agrees, sitting on the bed beside you. He’s silent for some time after that, gazing at his shoes as though they were the most interesting things in the world. You nudge his shoulder with yours to get his attention. He glances up at you and gives you a soft smile. “What’s up? C’mon, talk to me,” you say. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play stupid. I’ve known you my whole life.”

He nods. “Yeah...” “So tell me what’s been on your mind,” you say, laying a head on his shoulder. “I’m a really good listener, I promise.” Chris gives you a look, his breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “This girl, I’ve known her forever. Hell, I’ve liked her like this for a few years now. I’m just afraid it’ll--” “Ruin it if she doesn’t feel the same,” you sigh. Chris nods as his fingers lace in yours. It surprises you, but you don’t comment on it. You don’t want to spoil the moment. “Exactly...” he breathes. You watch his chest rise and fall rhythmically. Your heart rate rises steadily. “She probably does,” you say simply. Chris glances down at you. “What do you mean?” “There’s no reason she wouldn’t like you, Chris. You’re a sweet, funny, talented mama’s boy who believes in equality. Also, you’ve got a great ass and you play Captain America. If Tumblr loves you, then chances are she will, too,” you say thoughtfully, doing your best not to stumble over your words. Chris doesn’t say anything for a long time. He turns to face you a little more, one leg folded on the bed and the other over the edge of the bed. “Y/N,” he says softly. You mirror his position, your knee pressed against his. “Yes?” “Can I do something stupid right now?” he asks. He’s nervous. You’d never seen him this way before. “Maybe,” you reply, a sly grin on your face. Chris leans forward, eyes fluttering shut. You close yours as well, leaning in for a moment you’d only admitted to Talia about dreaming of. Your lips inches from one another’s, he pauses. ”You’re okay with this?” he asks. You nod. “I’m gonna need you to use your words, little lady.” ”Yes,” you reply firmly. Chris’s hand is on your cheek in an instant, steadying himself as he presses a kiss to your lips. Your arms shoot around his neck, his scruff scaping gently at your soft skin as you kiss him back, your entire body heating up. You feel Chris’s heart pounding against his skin as you press your chest flush against his. Just when his hands slide down to your waist, you begin to feel his innate dominance take over. He pushes you down onto your back, onto the bed. His hands slowly make their way up from your hips to your hair, which he tugs rather aggressively. But you’re no sooner pried apart by the sound of Danny’s voice echoing down the hall, Talia’s giggling along. Chris sits up straight, hands folded on his lap. You reel back into reality and leap forward for the photo album. You flip it open to a random page as you sit back down beside Chris, feigning a laugh. Chris understands and relaxes, pointing to a picture and asking some dumb question. Talia and Danny make their way over to your bedroom and stand in the doorway like proud parents. “Wouldja look at ‘em?” she hums. “Seems like just yesterday he was spraying her with a hose while she was wearing a white t-shirt.” “That was her to him, Daniel,” Talia snickers. “God, you’re the worst,” you glower, narrowing your eyes at Dennis the Menace as an all-powerful duo. “We can hear you,” Chris comments. “No dip, doofus,” Talia giggles. “Get out of my room, Danny!” you exclaim, getting to your feet. “I’m not in your room, Y/N!” Danny shouts back in a mocking tone, pointing down at the floor around your doorframe. “This is your room.” “Mooooom!” you roar, stomping your foot. “Daniel!” your mother calls from somewhere in the house. “I’m not in her room!?” “Danny, listen to your mother!” Mr. (Y/L/N) shouts from his bedroom, just down the hall. “Alright! Alright! I yield!” Danny cries, taking another step back. “Talia and I were just wondering if you guys wanted to go out back and start a bonfire. There are a lot of people from high school who couldn’t make it to dinner that wanted to see you today.”

You glance over at Chris and he shrugs. “You gonna stay?” “Yeah, sure. I’ll get Scott and Carly to come back,” he says, pulling his phone from his back pocket. You glance up at your brother, slamming the photo album shut. “Sure,” you reply. Danny nods and heads out down the hall, already sending out a mass text. But Talia doesn’t move. “Holy fucking shit,” she says softly. You cock an eyebrow at her before following her line of sight to Chris’s... ahem... prominent erection. Chris glances up, confused at first, but soon a realization washes over him. He yanks the photo album from you and presses it over his crotch sheepishly. “Please don’t tell Danny,” he begs.

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 5 years

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Eye of the Storm, Ch 9

Got a little more NSFW, smutty hanky- panky for you. Maggie contemplates the life of a burgeoning rock star with a megastar boyfriend, and Robert gets vulnerable while in a vulnerable position. 😈 Thank you @firethatgrewsolow for the talk on the relationship angst.

Just want to reiterate that this story is AU--I make mention of Robert not being married. ❤️❤️❤️

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After some hushed pillow talk and more teasing and connecting of their bodies, Robert and Maggie drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, Maggie woke up, enveloped in Roberts arms, to moonlight flooding the room and the muted sound of the ocean. She smelled her perfume on him, mixed with his earthy, masculine scent. He was sleeping on his back and snoring softly. He’d piled his hair behind his head in hopes of cooling down after their lengthy tryst.

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest fuzz. It was one of her favorite places in the world to be, and it felt good to be back.

She had missed him, as she always did when tour dates or oceans separated them.

The lengthy gaps in their connections were the worst part of their unique relationship. Robert was always eager to wallow in the things that excited him about America while in the country, always eager to spend as much time with her as possible, but once his plane pointed toward England, things weren’t the same between them. He’d told her that he needed a few weeks alone to shake off his tour persona, but by then he was off to another pub or soccer pitch with his best mates, and English life with family and friends became far more seductive than she was.

Eventually he’d come around and they’d reconnect through letters and calls. She could feel his laughter during their phone conversations, and his sexy murmur still affected her from thousands of miles away when he unleashed it, but there was always a slight sense of distance. She knew that he didn’t have a wife and kids waiting for him, like Bonzo and Jonesy, and she knew that he cared for her, but he could not be moved from his wish for sanctuary and time for the rambunctious US fans and silver-tongued hangers-on to fade away.

It, by far, was the worst part of their arrangement, worse than knowing that Robert was galavanting with other women while on tour. There was no human competition; instead, there was a wall he’d built to guard his real life. She was glad to hear him admit earlier, at last, that the distance between them, this time apart in the same big state, hurt him as much as it hurt her.

It was satisfying to hear Robert speak from his heart, without hiding behind jokes or the sweet diversion of his seduction. She hoped this revelation, and the bond that would be formed with their extended time together, would lead to her first trip to his country sometime soon.

Maggie loved that Robert was so unflinchingly sure about his vision for their future, and she was beyond excited about it, but she wondered what would happen when they encountered people who didn’t care about any of that.

She had recently became more aware of the perks of being a front woman, and she could understand why being the lead singer was such a drug for Robert and others. The reaction from her regional touring was much more intense than when her band played the hyperlocal bar circuit in San Diego. It was new and exciting, she had to admit–having such a large number of eyes on her, knowing the crowd had felt and enjoyed the energy she gave to them, feeling the rush of their collective, appreciative energy washing powerfully over her, and gaining groupies of her own.

She knew her throng of admirers was nowhere near the harem that often waited for Robert backstage, a spectacle she had witnessed plenty of times, but there were men who showed up with flowers and flattering words for her, more than before. Their smiles were sometimes admiring, sometimes leering. Many of them made her skin crawl, or she sensed a creepy, possessive threat behind their flirtation. But some were men who sincerely enjoyed her music and wanted to spend a little more time with her. Some of that number were cute, too cute to resist. She had found herself in this same nighttime cuddling position with those men, but she could say it never felt as right as it did with Robert.

She sighed and stretched her legs. Robert stirred and held her tighter without waking up. The thoughts of future tour life persisted. She realized that it had been a few years since Robert last brought up the topic of her post-concert nights. Robert had told her many times that he couldn’t possibly demand exclusivity from her, knowing his reality, and now she wondered if his lack of curiosity was due to an easygoing spirit or a delicate heart. Only time would tell, under their new arrangement.

Knowing those concerns could wait, she turned her attention back to Robert. Even asleep, without his expressive face in motion and his arsenal of charming words, he was irresistible. His classical jawline was relaxed, with his mouth open slightly, but his eyelashes fanned over his skin, creating a shy, boyish expression. It made her wonder what the schoolboy version of Robert had looked like.

Fully awake now, she decided to rouse him for some company. She gingerly pulled back the covers. By the light of the moon she could see his chest gracefully rising and falling, the soft ripples of his abdomen, his dormant manhood, which still teased with possibility, and his sturdy thighs.

She wanted to trail her tongue and lips over every inch of his skin, but she knew that focusing on his sex would be the most efficient way to get his attention.

She wrested herself from his embrace as slowly as possible, and then she headed south. She trailed a finger down the length of his cock which, in its relaxed state, was still larger than what some of the groupies presented to her. She sighed and shuddered with delight as some of the best moments of the last few hours played themselves back in her mind and body.

She lifted and encircled her fingers around Robert’s manhood, licking him to life with straight and circular lashes, similar to the varied methods with which she polished off her ice cream cone during the day. Back at her car, Robert had given a blow-by-blow (as he insisted on calling it) commentary on her ice cream consumption and became engrossed in her work to the point that his cone started to melt and drip down his hand. The thought made her chuckle with pride while she continued her current labor of love.

“Mmmm… What’s so funny?” The vibrations of her laughter had done the trick. “He not getting there fast enough for you, lusty woman? Even he needs a rest from time to time.” Robert’s voice was more breathy and husky than usual upon waking up, and the sultry tone made a strong current of need surge inside of Maggie.

She paused and crawled up to kiss Robert insistently. “I was just thinking of how much you like this.”

“That I do, love…” Robert propped himself up with pillows while she headed back to his lap and continued. He smoothed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him briefly and her eyes did the smiling while her mouth was completely preoccupied with the full swell of Robert’s sex. And then, eyes closed, she continued.

“My favorite was that one time we flew from LA to Seattle. Remember? The turbulence? Ah, the sweet feel of your mouth, the tease of life and death in the balance with each unexpected dip of the plane… I tried to get you back in your seat, but you were committed… Fuck, ‘til the very end… Every last drop… Best flight since the first time we left the British Isles… We’ll have to see if our schedules align for the long flight to Texas next year, love… Mmm…”

Maggie opened her eyes briefly and saw Robert’s head slowly roll backward. His lips were slightly parted, and she could hear his hungry breathing.

"You always did spoil me, Mags. Mmmmm…" He inhaled sharply as she teased his sensitive underside.

"Now's my turn to spoil you… Breakfast in bed, coming up in a few hours. Full English. I love Betsy’s cooking dearly, but you Yanks just don't have that touch of English domestic magic. Had to get my mum to ship some packages of our bacon, even. You can only eat those American fried fat strips so many times you know?"

"Fuck, darlin'... Feels like you could be down there for the next couple of weeks, if I let you! Mmmmm…" He held her hair tighter with one hand, while the other migrated from a shoulder to one of her breasts. He put the pad of his thumb to work on her nipple, adding to the pleasure she was getting from his reactions.

He started to thrust lightly. “I know exactly which stores we should visit for your tour wardrobe. But why don’t you also pick out a few things of mine? I’d love to see someone wear that black bolero again… The one with the white trim that I was still wearing around the time we met? Won’t be fitting me anytime soon…”

Maggie moved one of her hands to cup Robert’s heavy-laden balls as she continued to bob her head and corkscrew her other hand on the expanse of his shaft.

Robert groaned and his body became restless with the slow build of pleasure. “I had a dream about you onstage… Couldn’t get your moves out of my mind, I suppose… Perfectly filled pair of hot pants and the tiniest T-shirt that put your tits in the spotlight… I was in the front row, and you kissed me. I fully enjoyed being on that side of the groupie exchange. Let’s just say I showed my appreciation of you in your limo... You almost screamed as loud as you did in the kitchen earlier!” His pride in his dream performance pulled the corners of his mouth into a Chesire cat grin.

“But you know, I must see your lovely ass in some leather pants. Maybe a leather halter, too? I saw a bit of Chaka Khan in concert, and she had on a sexy ensemble like that… Leather, feathers… It would look great on you, too.”

Robert moved his hands to Maggie’s shoulders and thrusted deeper.

“Fuck! Woman… Uh…”

Robert’s chatter dissolved into agonized moans for a time before he continued. “I’ll… I’ll need a private concert, of course… Uh… Yes, love… Right there… It’s high bloody time I cash in on the perks of rock royalty, you know? I can see it now, the band breaking into a saucy rhythm, and mi amor, all hips and waist movement and flying hair… And… And.. Ohhhhh… That voice…”

Robert closed his eyes and let his body take over. His hands flew to the sides of her head as he chased the climax on the horizon.

“I bought a bootleg of one of your concerts… Forgive me, love, but I know you have some of ours! Uh… Uh… Shit, I’m almost there!” he hissed. “I couldn’t stop listening to ‘Last Night.’ That’s my favorite, I think… Reminds me of us! ‘Last night, when we rocked and rolled, oh, you struck my soul, and you filled that hole in my heart.’” He gathered the last of his waning strength to belt out the song, the same as she had.

“You really lost yourself in the song… Your voice! So wild. Fuck! Baby… Yes, Maggie, yes, Maggie, yessssss… Uh… The first time I heard the boot… Hot as fuck… I couldn’t help myself, I… I… Uh… Ohhhhh, baby, yes… I thought of you on top of me, and I… Made me so fucking hard… My hands… Needed you… Had to make do… But not tonight, baby… Not tonight, not tomorrow… You’re here… In my life, in my house, my bed… Right where you should be… I’m so glad you… Ohhh…. Oh! Fuck! I…” Robert’s body stiffened suddenly and his seed coursed. His final moan rolled on for almost as long as his climactic note in Kashmir.

Maggie’s lips softened their grip as she withdrew his cock. She kissed the glistening head before retiring to Robert's outstretched arms.

“I’ve never been so happy to be up at 4 a.m.,” he said, glancing at the glow-in-the-dark clock. “Hell of a wake-up call, Magdalena dear…”

"Great conversation," she teased. “Can't wait for this breakfast you've promised."

"You'll have to wait a little for that meal, but I'm going to have a delightful feast now…" He guided Maggie to rest in his spot on the bed, and with the first stroke of his tongue in her sex, she knew breakfast could wait.

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The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary

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jeremys-blogs · 4 years

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Fantastic Beasts: More Beasts, Please

If you've watched a lot of movies in your time, you'll have likely come across a fair few that you wish would have done things just a touch differently. And I'm not talking alternate endings or the like, but rather finding that there's one part of the movie that you enjoyed so much that you wish the entire film had been centred around that, rather than what they might have ultimately done with it. As someone who has watched a lot of films in his time, I've come across several such films, but recently I've been thinking about one in particular, and as you can probably tell from the title, that movie is the Harry Potter spin-off, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Now, I am not saying that this is a bad or unentertaining film, not by a long stretch, but there's no denying that, as I watch it, I find myself hugely enjoying a part of the story that, by the end, I realised that it didn't really want to be focusing on. That part would be the titular beasts themselves, and especially the time they have with series protagonist Newt Scamander, played by Eddie Redmayne. Title or no, this movie had, sadly, left those creatures by the wayside, choosing instead to focus on other things.

If you're unfamiliar with the series, they centre around Newt, a former Hogwarts student and lover of all magical creatures, and he's devoted his life to them. Finding them, caring for them, returning them to their natural habitat and trying to help his fellow witches and wizards understand that they're not as dangerous as they might first appear. In fact, his very presence in the USA in the first Beasts film was entirely due to this passion for the creatures of the wizarding world, as he was attempting to ensure that a thunderbird was returned to its home in Arizona. During this American trip he comes across a muggle (a non-magical person) named Jacob, whom he introduces to many of these animals, and much like the audience, Jacob is fascinated by all of the different types that Newt shows to him. This right here was something that I utterly fell in love with in this movie, seeing all of these different beasts, learning about them and seeing Newt look after them. It was an utter highlight of the story and something I always returned to first whenever I felt the need to revisit the movie. When it came to delivering on its title premise, the movie did a, and pardon the remark, fantastic job of it.

Unfortunately, despite my love for this side of the movie, the film as a whole eventually shows that it's not going to be about that. For you see, the real story at the heart of this is the establishing of the conflict regarding the antagonistic character of Grindlewald, a wizard who will ultimately serve as rival to the famous Harry Potter character, Dumbledore. In fact, the only real connection that this main story has with the beasts of the title, and even the main character of Newt, is that the latter has possession of a particular magical creature (if it can even be called that) called an Obscurus, which Grindlewald needs for his plan. And in the sequel this becomes even more apparent, because while there are indeed more magical creatures for Newt and the audience to witness, the stuff involving Grindlewald moves even more to the forefront than it did in the first movie, to the point where the titular animals aren't even involved at all in the villain's plan. In short, despite the name of this particular spin-off series, the "Fantastic Beasts" are only marginally connected to what the movie actually wants to be about, almost to the point where they're only used as an excuse to bring the audience to this villain plot-line rather than wanting it as the focus.

Now, I fully acknowledge that this could all just be personal preference on my part, rather than any objective problem with the movie myself. I have, after all, always favoured the smaller and simpler moments in fantasy stories to the big and epic ones. And this was something that applied even to the Harry Potter movies that spawned Fantastic Beasts. It wasn't the battles against Voldemort, the big mysteries of what went on in the past or Harry's role as a chosen one that engaged me with those films and books, it was the everyday goings on of his and his friends' time at Hogwarts. Leaning new spells, spending time with the other students, playing their quidditch matches, those were the things that brought me the most enjoyment. And it's exactly the same here. Give me a scene of Newt looking after his animals, and I'm smiling, but force me to watch some big plot on trying to counter Grindlewald's plan and I'm just looking at my watch. So no joke, I truly believe that this film would have been near-perfect, at least in my eyes, if they'd simply stuck to the angle of the fantastic beasts, and just jettisoned all the stuff with Grindlewald and the whole subplot of Credence, as well-acted as they might have been.

Having made my stance as clear as I have, I can already imagine a few doubts for anyone reading this. After all, watching these charterers interact with the magical creatures is all well and nice, but could an entire successful film be made out of it? Would audiences be willing to come to Fantastic Beast is it was just about fantastic beasts and nothing else? Personally, I believe they would do. Remember, despite having a big adult audience, films in this franchise are meant for children above all else, and I don't think there's any denying that weird and wonderful animals are pretty popular with them, regardless of what story we're talking about. And even if we're sticking to just general audiences, remember that Hagrid, a guy whose entire thing was his love for exotic and dangerous creatures, was one of the most popular characters in the original Harry Potter films. And not just him but a number of the animals themselves proved pretty engaging. Fluffy the three-headed dog, Fawkes the phoenix, Buckbeak the hippogriff, people just really loved these animals. So yes, I'm confident that a movie that focused entirely on the beasts would have been a success, and if nothing else it would have given people a lot to enjoy, which is always the most important thing when making movies.

I suppose, at the end of the day, my main reason for writing out all of this is not really any dissatisfaction with the movie itself, but rather the trend that seems to overshadow movies like this and others. When a story that has so much in it to just be laid-back, peaceful and nice, the people responsible for it never seem to have confidence in that niceness. It's always that they seem to think that unless the stakes are high and the story full of plot and intrigue and all of that other stuff, then people won't want to come and see the film. Simple, to put it bluntly, isn't an eye-catcher. If a movie advertises itself as just nice and relaxed and chill with something straightforward like "a man looks after animals for two hours", the people behind it likely won't think of it as a winner. And as someone who, as said before, adores the lighter and more easygoing things in movies, it's just generally disheartening to see those aspects be shoved to the wayside just because someone decided that it wasn't going to put bums in seats. Again, it's my personal preference, but I doubt I'm the only one who feels that way, nor do I feel I'm the only one who feels it about these films in particular.

Please don't take any of this to mean that I think you shouldn't enjoy this movie. And also don't think that I have a dislike of people who prefer the more complicated or high-stakes kinds of cinema. Your tastes are your own and life is too short to not just like what we like. And besides, since this movie wound up doing about as well at the box office as several of the Harry Potter films, then I have to conceded that there's an audience out there for this. I guess all this really is just me musing on what could have been, the kind of movie I wanted it to be rather than what it was. And in truth it really was a good movie. The sequel wasn't perhaps as enjoyable, but again, as I mentioned before, they did away with the beasts even more in that one, so I guess it was inevitable that I wasn't going to like it as much. But I maintain that a story that was just Newt, Jacob and their colleagues being around these extraordinary animals would have been something special. Something that would have brought me no end of joy to watch. And while I know I'll never get that movie, I suppose I can at least take solace in the fact that, in times we do indeed see those fantastic beasts, they were the best parts of the movie 😊

#essay #writing #my stuff #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #harry potter

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himbohargreeves · 5 years

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hallo here are the hc's i whipped up for the teacher au!! i'm sorry this turned into an essay i'm just a dumbass who loves soft teacher au a lot!!

“not sure what the others would teach in this teacher au tho-” *wakes up in the dead of night with cold sweat* *kicks down the door* I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS!!

oh boy…get ready….cause it’s A LOT

- Submitted by @katgreeves

luther: physics teacher, cause you know…spaceboy……everyone is scared at the beginning of the year when they get him as a teacher cause he’s TALL AND HUGE AS FUUUUUCK, but then fast forward two months later and everyone is chill because turns out he’s a really easygoing and soft teacher…just really socially awkward and lowkey dumb sometimes

asshole kids in his classes use his softness to his disadvantage and pull pranks on him constantly, poor guy….the other kids tho always tell them to shove it tho because he may be soft and dumb and socially awkward but he’S OUR SOFT AND DUMB AND SOCIALLY AWKWARD TEACHER DON’T TOUCH HIM!! the first time they protected him he had to remind himself not to tear up because HE FELT SO LOVED!!!!

he gets them snacks even if they’re not supposed in the science classrooms because “eXPeriMENts and CHEmIcALsSsSsssSS!!!” and will rant for hours about space and starts and THE MOOOOON cause when he was a kid he always wanted to be an astronaut ( :’))))))) ) and his kids get fed up one day and go “why don’t you just make an astrology club mr luther????” and he does and IT’S A REAL SUCCESS WITH THE SCHOOL BODY YAY!!!

(five when he grows up also becomes a physics teacher and pesters luther all the time like “I AM 10 TIMES THE TEACHER YOU EVER WERE-” “NO YOU AREN’T STFU” and he’s technically wrong and right because material wise??? yes he’s 100% the better teacher and he always has answers to the kids questions and teaches them extra content cause he’s always been a genius but as a physics teacher that kids really like????? no siree that title goes to luther because he was a soft teddy bear to his students and they trusted him while five is eccentric and strict the the point where his kids are scared the FUCK out of him)

diego: pe teacher, SWEARS SO MUCH IN FRONT OF THE KIDS IN CLASS OMG HOW IS HE NOT FIRED YET?? is tough on the kids sometimes so push harder but IS ALSO SOFT AND REALLY ENCOURAGING THE KIDS TO WORK AND TRY THEIR BEST BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN THEM!!! (except for the group of cocky assholes he’ll get in every class and don’t want to listen to them…he has personally removed their rights in the class)

whenever the self-defense unit comes around he’s sooooo dedicated to it and makes sure that the kids master everything to a t, cause who knows when it might come in handy??? he wants to make sure that the kids know how to protect themselves as the world is a shitty place and you never know when shit will go bad (except he does…he’s had enough bullshit and scared happen to him and has gotten involved in so many fights that he wants to make sure that the kids won’t hurt like him :“’))))))))) )

he’s a secret softie that will protect the kind kids that are not as good at pe and get bullied by the cocky assholes in the class becAUSE THAT’S JUST WHAT HE WOULD DO NO IM NOT SELF PROJECTING OF WHAT I WANTED OUT OF MY PE TEACHERS SHUT U-

also eudora is a pe teacher and the two of them are very competitive to be the best pe teacher and this rivalry turns into playful flirting and big ass crushes that they’re way too stubborn to admit, the entire school still ships it anyways (the entire school also ships klaus and dave because gay rights!!!!!)

allison: either school counselor or principal i can’t decide because she can be super kind and open to talk and gives advice that helps a LOT but she’s also a hbic THAT CAN AND WILL run the place.

anyways, whatever job she has, she also helps with the drama club and school plays, and literally every year the theatre kids BEG HER to kick out the current drama teachers and replace them because allison>>>>>>>>>>>> all of the existing drama teachers there

ben: is either a literature or philosophy teacher. super smart and knowledgable but is also really laid back and fun to talk to. he’s got a dark and snarky sense of humor and his students always have sass battles with him. the number of INSANE inside jokes his students and him share is HUGE.

HE DEMANDS THAT HIS STUDENTS PARTAKE IN READING TIME IN THE BEGINNING OF CLASS NO MATTER WHAT THEY HAVE TO DO BECAUSE READING IN AN IMPORTANT SKILL AND HOBBY FOR DEVELOPMENT AS A READER, WRITER, LEARNER, AND OVERALL PERSON AND NO AMY DON’T ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME I’M THE TEACHER HERE AND I SAID NO ELECTRONICS SO PUT THE GODDAMN PHONE AWAY BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AN-

anyways…he is really considerate to what students need and makes them as relaxed as possible because school is HELL. students LOOOOOVE HIM. HE’S THE ONE TEACHER BESIDES DAVE THAT LITERALLY EVERYONE LIKES. (highkey inspired by my philosophy and lit teachers because they’re also really smart but sassy and cool like ben and I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT)

vanya: strings orchestra teacher for obvious reasons. she was real shy at first when she first got hired but the the strings department at that time was soooo small and crappy that she went “oh HELL no,” rolled up her sleeves, and set to revitalize it just because she cares about music so much.

she recruited more students, got more advanced music so the kids could feel a challenge and be motivated to improve, and collaborated with the choir and band departments to provide more clubs, events and opportunities outside of class for kids to do music.

she is a no business type of teacher when it comes to arrogant people that put other players down or people who don’t practice and goof around and will snap at them SO HARD because everyone needs to be at their a game for a concert and in an orchestra no single person is bigger that the collective. she’s however SOOOO SOFT with really soft playing and shy kids because she understands how it feels when you think your playing isn’t good enough, so gives them extra help, gives them solo lines or solos to play so they gain more confidence in themselves, all while constantly giving encouraging words about how much they’ve improved that always makes them feel better and more motivated to improve.

she’s an absolute anxious and cranky maniac a week before the concert but she throws parties with food, drinks, and games afterwards to celebrate with her kids. she constantly gets them to play music related games and challenges that they do as a class for team bonding to make things more entertaining in class. she makes dumb music puns a lot too!

she also will in the class say crazy stories of her childhood and the crazy shit she and her siblings did and then somehow always relate it back to the lesson and make it some sage advice…the kids never understand how she does it

(me???? self projecting more of my teachers into this au cause they’re cool??? more likely than you think)

also one day she chops her hair real short and cute and the conversation with her students basically went like this:

students: miss vanya you cut your hair???

vanya: yes kids I’m a lesbian

students: !!!!!!!!!!!!

vanya: ;))))))))

students: MISS VANYA SAID GAY RIGHTS!!!!

vanya: HELL YE I DID!!!

bonus grace yayyyy!!!!!: is the school nurse…she’s so sweet, so soft….has precisely whatever people need when they feel sick/injured…helps them calm down in they’re freaking out…always has a couple of beds in the nurse’s office so people can lie if they feel dizzy…gives out candy/sweets/food to people so they feel better!!

diego meets her a lot because a lot of kids in his class gets injuries and he takes them to the nurse and he jUST LOVES HER SM!!! INSTANT MOM FIGURE!! THEY TALK AND JOKE AND LAUGH TOGETHER AND GRACE WILL ALWAYS GIVE HIM A PASTRY SHE MADE WHENEVER HE COMES BY AND HE JUST IS SO SOFT AROUND HER ITS GREAT (his students find his sudden change in his demeanour amusing “hey mr diego is nurse grace your MMMmoooOoOooOOOmMMMMMMmmmmmM??” “kid your a good one but say that shit to me one more time and I will beat the sh-”)

she always has a smile on her and everyone LOVES HER…..except for the administration that always want to get her fired because they are assholes and they think she’s too weird to stay. however, every time they try to fire her, a certain teacher comes by the office for what they claim is a civil discussion...and after an hour of yelling, death threats, and the door getting 10 knife marks they go “you know what grace…you can stay"

those assholes are persistant though, and one time though not even a certain teacher could get them away from firing her so once the news breaks out that nurse grace is leaving the whole school is FURIOUS and throws a 1 week riot and the administration get so scared and tired that they just go "OK WERE SORRY JUST KIDDIN- OK OK SHE’S STAYING FOR GOOD JESUS”

grace is so grateful that she makes a whole bunch of cake for everyone and everyone with tears in their eyes just goes “this…is why we love you sm nurse mom”

~~okkkieee that’s the end of it sorry it’s a literal essay I just got very passionate about this au lmao rip!!! I’m slowly tempted to write a fic about it even though i’ve never written a fic before in my LIFE and I already have like 3 other au fic ideas in my head already smh

#NURSE MOM #tua #katgreeves #submission #teacher au

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vvirgils · 4 years

Text

Chronicles of Straith #2-The Witch’s Dragon:Chapter 7

Chronicles of Straith #1-Fate’s Door///Chapter 6/Chapter 8//Masterpost

Roman’s second day in Canea passed completely normally. They slept in, woke up, and got dressed in the first clothes they saw, making sure to put on their mother’s scarf. Jessie delivered breakfast to their room, and told Roman there was someone who wanted to spend the day with them. Besides their day already being planned, it was normal.

Abnormally, it had been months, maybe years since Roman had a day like this. They’d spent their whole life under Epos’s thumb, and then under the completely different pressures of being king. It was impossible to feel guilty about leaving Straith when the sensation of being relaxed was this pleasant.

Eyes still foggy, Roman followed Jessie’s instructions and walked to the library, not knowing why this mystery person wanted to meet there. Truth be told, they’d started to zone out when Jessie explained who this person was. Absentmindedly, Roman walked around the library, admiring the books. It was two, if not three times bigger than the library in Straith’s castle.

A few volumes on sorcery caught Roman’s eye, and they were just prying a book from the shelf when someone asked, “excuse me, are you Roman?” The voice wasn’t familiar, but when Roman turned around, the woman’s warm brown eyes and easygoing yet dignified disposition set them at ease.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Roman replied. This was clearly the person Jessie told them to meet, judging by her professional attitude and that she knew their name. She had long black hair flowing down her back, complementing her brown skin and dark suit. Old enough to be their mother.

She smiled. “I’m Lilly, nice to meet you.” Lilly shook their hand, something glinting in her eyes that Roman couldn’t place. Almost recognition.

Roman’s head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, probably from sleep deprivation. They weren’t really sure what was going on. “Nice to meet you too. You must be the person I’m supposed to um, spend the day with.”

“Yes, that’s me. Normally, I’d be advising Mark, but I’ve never met you and…I was a close friend of your mother’s. I’ve been wanting to meet her son since the day you were born. We all miss Madeline very much. You really look like her, it’s bittersweet.” Lilly smiled, the sadness reaching her eyes.

“Thank you, I guess,” Roman said, a complicated blur of emotions rising inside them. “I never knew much about her, I’ve barely seen a painting of her face. Hopefully you can tell me more about her.”

“Right. Your father was secretive in his own way,” Lilly said, “I have lots of stories to tell you. It’s sad that you’ve never really known anything about her until now. Let’s go for a walk, I have some places I want to show you.”

Excitement rose in Roman’s chest, and they practically skipped after Lilly. She didn’t say anything as they walked, but after a few minutes they emerged into a small courtyard. Snow was already gracing the ground, falling in soft flakes. Lilly sat on a stone bench, sweeping away the dusting of snow so that Roman could sit next to her.

“This was one of her favorite places,” she said, looking around. Roman took in the flowers that were in full bloom despite the snow falling around them. Irises and crocuses, tulips and daffodils. Spring flowers, and even though Roman was shivering without a cloak, they made the air seem warmer. It was a circular courtyard, filled with flowers except for the path and the bench.

“It’s beautiful,” Roman said, not sure what else to say. It was hard to imagine their mother sitting there—hard to imagine her at all, really. They paused, hoping Lilly would have something to say.

She looked down at the bench and sighed. “She used to come here all the time to think. When something big happened, or even when something little happened. Madeline would sit right where you are, and we’d just sit and be silent there. Together. I miss that silence.” Her voice choked up, and Roman wanted to hug her, to say something, to comfort her for the loss of their own mother.

“How long have the flowers been blooming?” they asked, letting a long silence pass before trying to clear the cold air. It was a question that did not need to be answered, but Roman was curious.

“As long as anyone can remember. It’s the courtyard of eternal spring, or something fancy like that. There’s one for the other three seasons, but this one was her favorite. It’s the smallest one, like a little cubbyhole for her to curl up in,” Lilly said, letting a few tears fall down her face.

“How did you know her?” Roman asked, tucking the story inside of them to keep. It was incredibly sad, in that moment, that this was Roman’s mother, but Roman didn’t have any memories of her. Lilly had to fill in the gaps.

“We met when she was still in school. It was a big college, but everyone was nervous about approaching the princess. I didn’t even recognize her, I just complimented her shirt and said she looked familiar. It turned out we had a class together, and we just started talking. I came to the palace with her one winter, and hit it off with her family. I’ve kind of been an honorary member ever since. Hence, being the king’s chief advisor.” She smiled at the memory, happiness soaking into her face for the first time since they’d entered the courtyard.

Roman smiled too. “That’s wonderful. Do—do you have any other stories? I’d love to hear them all, if you’ve got the time.” They ran their fingers over the red scarf, wanting to know more.

“Of course, I have loads. She was a lot of fun, your mother. I’ve never met anybody quite like her”

They passed their time in the courtyard that way, Lilly reminiscing and Roman listening. She painted a picture of Roman’s mother, of an intelligent, brave woman who saw being queen as a service to her people. As they talked, Roman wondered what it would be like if they met her. Would they get along? What would she think of what they’d done?

Lilly had an answer for that question too. When their conversation turned to discussing Roman’s life, she reassured them that their mother would be proud.

“You’ve done a lot for your country,” Lilly said, reaching over to ruffle Roman’s hair. “More than she ever thought could be done.”

Something about her words seemed to hint at something more, but Roman was more preoccupied with going inside to see Madeline’s other favorite places than questioning her further. It was getting cold, and Roman wanted to find out everything they could about their mother while they were still in Canea. They felt guilty being away for more than a week and only leaving a note on their desk.

It was lunch time, so they ate. Afterwards, they had a few hours to kill until dinner. With a big smile on her face, Lilly told them that King Mark would be there this evening. Roman couldn’t wait to meet him, and hoped that the dinner would go well. They didn’t mind waiting, though, jealously hoarding the information about their mother like a dragon. Lilly almost showed them Madeline’s private quarters, but decided it would be up to the king whether Roman could go in there or not.

She shared some of her favorite memories of Roman’s mother in the palace—every other hallway seemed to hold a moment in Madeline Elthren’s life. Before long, it was time for dinner, so Jessie came to bring Roman to their room.

“How’s Lilly?” she asked, leading Roman through a throng of ministers trying to get out of the palace.

“She’s nice. We got to talk about my mother,” Roman said, not sure what to say. “I can’t wait to meet the king, though. If Lilly, his chief advisor, is any indication, he should be a good king.” And, hopefully, uncle.

“Are you nervous? I was nervous.” Jessie whispered something under her breath, and a door opened in the wall. She pulled Roman through it, startling them.

“A little. Wait, are you a sorcerer?” Roman asked. They were now in an entirely different corridor.

“Not at all. Most people aren’t, there’s just the few who are born with the true gift. Canea just happens to highly value sorcery, so it’s used almost everywhere. Sorcerers are rarely out of work. But the door unlocks with a passcode that only the staff knows,” Jessie explained, walking a little faster. “Let’s hurry, I don’t want you to be late.”

“That’s interesting. So it works the same as in Straith.”

“Basically. It’s not like the water makes people magical or something. We’re almost to the dining hall,” Jessie said, laughing a little at her own joke.

Roman fell silent after that, trying to prepare themself for meeting the king. While they were also a king, this was not Roman’s kingdom. And they’d never met Markus before.

“Should I be worried?” Roman asked Jessie when they reached the door. They played with the end of their mother’s scarf.

“No, not really. You’ll be fine, trust me. He’s nice to everyone, and he can’t wait to meet you.”

She pushed open the door for Roman, and they walked in, not sure of the etiquette. In Straith, there would have been some sort of presentation, a herald announcing their title before Roman sat down at the table.

Instead, the scene was casual. The king sat at the head of the table, his crown perched on top of his head offhandedly, like he’d just thrown it on for dinner. The other twenty or so people looked to be either the king’s family, or dear friends. Lilly gave Roman a wave.

They closed the door behind them, and Roman decided to just make their way to their seat and hope nothing went wrong. There was one empty seat, so Roman took it. The food was already on the table, so Roman took some, hoping that eating something would calm their nerves.

“Ah, Roman! So happy you could come, really.” Roman looked up from their plate to see King Markus, Ruler of Canea and Lover of Dogs giving them a warm smile.

For whatever reason, Roman had worried that Mark would turn out similar to Epos, another ruler whose heart was hardened by the throne. But from the way everyone around them was saying hello, the scattered “you look like your mother”s, and the smiles on people’s faces, Roman decided that the King of Canea was someone he could trust.

“I’m happy to be here. It’s great to meet you, King Mark,” Roman said, returning his warm expression. “The food is great, by the way.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re enjoying it. It’s a special occasion, after all, the return of our dear Madeline’s son. I made sure we had some of our special dishes, including a few magical ones. Oh, and you can just call me Uncle Mark while we’re here. I’m not terribly attached to my title,” Mark said, passing Roman a plate with small sugar fairies flitting around.

“You can call me, um, Roman,” they said, transfixed by the tiny creatures. They sparkled under the chandelier lights, rainbows spilling onto the tablecloth. Although they moved independently of one another, they never left the plate or flew more than a foot above it.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” one man said. “Don’t worry, I was hypnotized when I first saw them too.” He ran a hand through his curly brown hair sheepishly. “Which was about fifteen minutes ago. Hi, I’m Dan. Nice to meet you.” He chuckled, a little insecure, but Roman didn’t see why. It was rather funny, when he put it that way.

They laughed in response, and the dinner was off to a promising start. It was, to put it simply, the complete opposite of the stiff, formal dinners they put up with in Straith. There were almost no politics at this table, besides a few joking comments. Jokes and laughter abounded, and Roman could barely find the time to eat when they were trying to listen to the stories being told around them.

Mark insisted they eat a sugar fairy, even though Roman felt bad about eating something that looked and felt so living. But the fairy froze the second it made contact with Roman’s hand, and it tasted delicious.

“We’ve got an amazing sorcerer for a chef,” Lilly said, plucking two fairies from the plate. “These are her specialty, but she’s got some other wonderful creations. She made these tarts that were tiny volcanoes once, and they were delicious.”

Roman of course, had to ask her about all of the other confections, and other people chimed in. The conversation switched topics over and over, but Roman found themself keeping up and laughing along. Eventually, the meal came to an end, but even as the dishes were cleared away, nobody left the table.

“I hope you all enjoyed your meal, compliments of our wonderful cooking staff, and the wonderful chef Ro, because I do have some evening entertainment for you all tonight,” the king said, and the curtain behind him swung open to reveal a theatre troupe, all set up for a performance.

It was a very familiar theatre troupe, or at least one person was. Roman couldn’t believe that Thomas was actually here. They hadn’t seen him since Epos’s reign, when the king had invited the small-town troupe to stay at the castle for a few months to provide entertainment for the royal family. Roman had grown close with all of them, and gave a small wave to Valerie from the audience.

She winked back, and the show began. It was a silly tale about vampires, and everyone enjoyed it. Roman couldn’t wipe the smile off their face if they tried; it was a great show. Seeing everyone again was almost as awesome, Roman couldn’t help but miss getting to spend time with them during their stay in Straith.

After the final curtain, Roman was itching for the chance to get out of their seat and talk to everyone. They wanted to congratulate all of them on the performance, and talk to them a bit. Roman hadn’t gotten the chance to see how they were in ages, and wanted to know everything about their adventures.

The actors walked down from the stage. Roman wondered why at first, but then they all greeted the king. Perhaps that’s the custom here, Roman thought, but hopefully Thomas can still say-

“Roman!” It was Thomas, walking towards them. “How are you?”

He gave Roman a hug, not giving the startled kid a chance to respond. “I’m doing pretty well, thank you for asking,” Roman said, once the hug had ended. “But what about you? Where have you been?”

“Oh, everywhere. We haven’t been to Straith in a while, unfortunately, but traveling Canea is wonderful. There’s so much to see! I am sad that I missed your coronation, though,” Thomas replied, sitting down next to Roman. Lilly had gotten up to talk with someone else. In fact, there were lots of empty chairs. It was becoming more like a party, everyone talking around them.

“It wasn’t anything special,” Roman said, really not wanting to elaborate. Their coronation was probably the last thing they wanted to discuss with Thomas, of all people. As Roman waffled, trying to think of something to say, they remembered Logan, how he always had something to say.

Their friends. Of course, Thomas didn’t know about them. Roman could feel their excitement already growing just thinking about them. “But I did make some friends. Three, actually. And I told them, my um, my secret.” Roman added the last part in an undertone, not wanting someone to overhear. Even here in their mother’s kingdom, the paranoia of Straith still stuck with the young king.

“Really? Roman, I’m so proud of you.” He hugged Roman again, and Roman smiled against his shoulder. “Tell me about them, they must be really special. I’m happy you found people, you couldn’t hang around with us for forever.”

“Ok, ok. There’s three of them. Virgil, Patton, and Logan. We met up because of this crazy prophecy thing that eventually led to me becoming king. I met Virgil first, and she’s kind of my best friend? Like, it’s understood that we would both take each others company over anyone else’s.”

“Even me?” Thomas joked, beaming with pride.

“Yeah, even you.” Thomas pretended to be offended. “Um, she’s got long blond hair, and she’s always wearing a cloak. I mean, she’s the Apprentice Sorcerer now and we had to put a cloak in the uniform or she wouldn’t do it. She can be really funny sometimes, and she’s just as freaked out by life as I am, which is nice. I have someone to sympathize with, it’s great.”

“That’s amazing for you. What about Logan and Patton? I actually know a Logan who lives in Straith, I think. And I’m so glad that Straith is embracing sorcery more, now. I used to get really paranoid about it when I was there,” Thomas said, absentmindedly letting tiny strings of light wind themselves around the hand he rested on the table.

Roman looked at the strands, feeling a little bit dumb. “I didn’t know you were a sorcerer.”

“It’s not like I was going to keep it a secret, believe me,” Thomas said, ducking his head a little. “I wish I could have told you I was a, well, light sorcerer, but you were the prince of Straith, and that’s a risk I couldn’t take.”

“I understand,” Roman said, wishing they didn’t understand so well. “I wouldn’t want you to be banned from Straith forever. But…could you maybe help out the very new Department of Sorcery in Straith? Rafaela—long story—and Virgil are both dark sorcerers, but we’re finding people who aren’t, and it’s really hard to train them when nobody’s actually a light sorcerer.”

“Roman, I wish I could help you out, but I chose acting over sorcery a long time ago. I couldn’t leave the troupe for very long to train people, and I’m not very good at it anyways. I stopped trying to get better when I was like, thirteen. I’m a level fifteen, or something like that.” Thomas paused, then shrugged. “It is what it is. So, Logan and Patton, right?”

“Yeah, they’re dating. They’re really cute, believe me, and they kind of run the bookstore together. I mean, Logan runs the bookstore with his parents, and Patton helps out at the orphanage because he’s such a dad, but one of them is always there. Patton lives there with Logan and his family because even with some generous federal grants, it’s still the same place and he doesn’t want to live there if he doesn’t have to. He checks up on the kids there a lot, though, it’s really sweet,” Roman said, looking off into the distance. They’d love to have a relationship like that some day, really.

“Logan runs the bookstore with his parents? I think I know them, they’re,” Thomas said, snapping his fingers, trying to think. “Corbin and Sloane! They’re the best, my goodness. I could talk with them all day, they invited me over for tea and I just loved them.”

“I know, they’re amazing. They’ve offered to adopt me on more than one occasion.” They made Thomas laugh, and the two kept talking. Roman was amazed at everything new that had happened in their life in the months since talking with Thomas. Not much had changed for Thomas, by the looks of it, but Roman suspected that Thomas cared more about their life than his own.

How far they’d come, since being so scared to tell the one person they trusted their identity, to running a kingdom with true friends at their back. Thomas had been the first person who looked at Roman and saw a person, a kid like any other, and he was the mentor and father figure that Epos never was. Roman made him promise to come visit Straith soon.

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