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kbtbb-soryu · 2 years ago

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Queen of Ice [Ryota x OC] Chapter 8

Covered in sweat, I walked through the front door the next morning. I shuffled into the living room and saw Mr Mochizuki in the kitchen. He stared at me, wide-eyed.

“Were you... at the gym?” he asked, eyeing my clothes.

“Dance studio, technically. But same principle I guess.” I shrugged.

“You must have been up pretty early, then,” he mused, a small smile playing on his lips.

I blinked. “Don’t tell me you’ve never even realised.”

“Realised what?” He cocked his head to the side.

“I go to the dance studio every morning.”

“Except when you oversleep.” The grin he gave me was playful.

“No, actually, I went that day. I just fell asleep again after I got back.” I shrugged. Then I noticed what he was doing. “What’s with the pancakes?”

“Figured something a little more breakfast-y would be nice for a change.”

I eyed the pancakes. “Kind of elaborate, but okay.” With the pancakes, there was a light salad, soup and fruit cups. Even café au lait.

“I call it the Mochizuki Special. Now pull up a chair, and eat my special.”

I chuckled. “Can you give me a minute to change first?” I didn’t bother waiting for an answer before going to my room to change out of my sweaty clothes.

“Slather my special delight in my jam, too. That’ll make it even better!” he said when I sat down at the table. I pulled up my nose.

“Hard pass.” I found him scratching nervously at his nest of tangled hair. “What?”

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday.” I looked down at the food.

I sighed. “I’m not interested in empty apologies,” I replied coldly.

“Haruka.”

I slowly looked up at him. “I’m not trying to be rude. I’m sure you’re sorry about the way you handled it, but you’re not sorry about what you said, because you were right. I forgot myself. It wasn’t my place to inquire about your personal life and your past.”

“It’s cool. Water under the bridge.” I didn’t answer as I picked up a fork.

“So, what would you like on your pancakes? Honey, maple syrup? Jam?”

“How about all of the above?”

“Good, because that’s what I was gonna do, anyway.” He smiled in an attempt to make the atmosphere lighter.

“I was being sarcastic. I’m not rearing to get diabetes, thanks.”

He chuckled. “I thought you’d say something like that.”

I shrugged. “So? What are your plans for today?” I asked before shoving a piece of pancake into my mouth.

“Video games,” he replied.

“Didn’t you play games all day yesterday?” I asked.

“Yeah, and I want to do it again today. I’m not even close to being done. Wanna join me?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks. I have plans with Eito today.” I finished my breakfast and put the plates in the sink. “Thanks for the pancakes. They were really good; not too sweet.”

After school the next day, I stared at the mark on my practice math test. I had only scored a sixty. No surprise there, I supposed. I could barely concentrate and I didn’t finish the test in time. I remembered what Mr. Mochizuki said before the test.

“If you can’t score high enough on this test, it’ll be tough to pass the midterm with a ninety.”

I reviewed the test, but I didn’t take anything in. Then I heard a thud from outside the classroom. I looked up. Eito was the only one with me.

“What was that?” I asked. Eito shrugged. I stood up and exited the class to see what was going on. In the hallway I found Sato and Mr. Mochizuki talking. I arched an eyebrow at them, but went back into the class.

“What was it?” Eito asked quietly.

“Dunno. Just found Sato talking to Mochizuki,” I said, my voice flat.

“Sato, huh…” Eito mumbled.

“What?” I asked.

“Why is Sato taking remedial classes?” Eito asked.

“How the hell should I know? Why don’t ask him?”

“He’s always staring at you,” Eito said. I shrugged. I wasn’t particularly bothered by things that happened all the time anyway.

“I bombed that test today,” I muttered as soon as I got home that day.

“Because you didn’t manage your time properly. That bad habit of yours rears its ugly head once again,” Mr Mochizuki told me.

“It never happens on other tests…” I said.

“Look, if you don’t want to give up, then you’ve got to suck it up and push through. Med school is gonna kick your butt if you’re not driven. You’ve got a dream to realise, so there are only two options: go big or go home.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing. What, you think I haven’t been trying?”

“Then you’re not trying hard enough.”

“How can you say that?” I stood up, fuming.

“Hey. Can you honestly say you’re giving 110 percent? Can you?”

I snorted derisively and sneered at him. “Like I want to hear that from someone who gave up in his so-called dream. Sorry I can’t be oh-so perfect like you.” I lashed out, my voice carrying an icy edge to it I hadn’t heard from myself in a while. I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut.

I ran my hand through my hair. Talk about being an ice queen. He didn’t deserve that. I was angry because he was talking the truth, and I hated it. I was the one who wanted to fight the odds and aim for med school. He was only trying to help. I hadn’t been working as hard as I knew I could. It wasn’t his fault. Unable to sit around any longer, I headed for the kitchen for some water when I noticed light seeping through Mr Mochizuki’s door. I poked my head in and found him preparing for his lessons tomorrow. He was up late working… He was working so hard, doing everything he possibly could… How could I have said something so cruel to him? Gave up on his dream? He wasn’t someone who would do that for no reason. Attacking something like that…

He wouldn’t be the teacher he was if he didn’t work hard. Always thinking about his students, staying up late to prepare for classes. I owed him an apology. I remembered how he played to his strengths when he wanted to apologise to me, and I decided to do the same. I brewed some cocoa and took it to his room.

“Hey,” I said softly as I knocked on his door.

“You’re still up? Get to bed or you’ll sleep right through your alarm tomorrow,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’m… really sorry about what I said earlier. I lashed out and that was unfair of me. You did nothing wrong.” My lip quivered and I bit it.

“Felt good to get all that off your chest, though, didn’t it? We can’t carry the weight of those kinda feelings around with us all the time.” How could he be so cool with this? Not only did I yell at him, but I also attacked something that was obviously very fragile to him. He was always so understanding, so accepting… Felt good? No, it didn’t. It felt like crap. I didn’t say anything that I really felt. I looked down and noticed some clump in his hands.

“What are you doing?” I cocked my head to the side.

“Oh, this? Just a charm I’m making for the soccer club. It’s nothing special… Just a little prayer to help them win.”

“That’s… kinda sweet, actually.”

“I was gonna make each of the guys a soccer ball, and stitch their number on it.” My eyes widened. “What?”

“Don’t tell me that’s supposed to be a soccer ball.”

“That was the plan, anyway, yeah?” I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t see it? You’ve got the black and white bits here, and then you sew them… Erk! Damn it.”

“Prick yourself?” I walked over to him and put the mugs down on his bedside table.

“No, just grazed it.” He looked away.

“Don’t even bother trying to hide it. I see right through you.”

“Psh, I’m a man… and it takes more than a little needle prick to hurt me. Here, now look. Doesn’t that look like a soccer ball to you?” He held up his shoddily sewn black and white monstrosity.

“No, it looks like a rice ball.”

“There are rice balls shaped like soccer balls, I’ll have you know.”

“That isn’t one of them.”

“Just, look with your heart, not your eyes.”

I sighed. “Give me that, Pocahontas.” I snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey! I can sew just fine.”

“The state of your project speaks louder than anything you could say.”

“Right, sorry. I think I’ve met my match with this sorta stuff.”

“You need to be more precise about cutting. Soccer balls have a very specific pattern.” I spoke as I tried making a decent soccer ball for him. “A 3D one may be a little tough; I can do it, but it takes a lot of time. If you’re good with a flat charm, this ought to do it.”

“Wow, colour me impressed.” I shrugged. “Haruka… Would you, uh, mind helping me? If I were left to my own devices, I’d end up making a bunch of rice balls.”

“What did you think I was doing?” I asked, brushing off the astonishment I felt at him turning to me for help.

“You’re a lifesaver. Seriously.”

“Can you iron the number patches on?”

“I can do that much.” He smiled broadly. Together we continued making the little soccer charms.

“We only have three more to go,” I said.

“We might actually be able to get through all of ‘em tonight.”

“If only you’d come to me sooner.”

“I couldn’t have asked you to help; you’re not part of the soccer team. Besides, I just…” He stopped himself from saying more.

“Don’t like relying on people?” You’re just like me.

“Well, yeah. I’m a never-say-die kind of guy. But…” he trailed off.

“But?” I urged him to go on.

“Working with you has been pretty fun.” The iron in his hand, he turned a big smile on me. My stomach somersaulted, despite myself. “Can’t even remember the last time I stayed up late with someone, chatting… Probably not since I was in high school myself, working on the school festival.” That big, innocent smile was one I’d never see in school. I was happy that he was enjoying hanging out with me. We continued working for several hours after that and before I knew it, I was asleep on his couch.

When I groggily opened my eyes the next morning, I found my teacher fast asleep next to the table, cheek resting in the crook of his arm. It was a bit of a thrill thinking how I spent the night in his room with him. My eyes fell on him once more. Sleeping like that, he was going to wake up with the worst bedhead. I was reaching for his hair when he shifted, his head finding my shoulder. I froze, unsure of what to do with this new, sexy weight. I could feel his heat through the thin fabric of our clothes. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like if I could snuggle with him, his arms wrapped around me. The thought made me want to slap myself. I poked his forehead.

“Hey. Wake the hell up.”

He opened his eyes drowsily. “Hm? Oh, sorry about that.”

“Hmph. Be thankful I didn’t push you to the floor.” Realising what I just said, I raised a finger. “That came out wrong.” He snapped back from me, to sit up straight in his seat.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked.

A mischievous smirk spread over my face. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

“So I’m ugly awake?” He jabbed a finger into my forehead. Damn, he wasn’t even frazzled. “I don’t think you’ve got the time to be clowning around right now.” I looked at my watch. “Alright, let’s hurry and get ourselves ready.”

“Don’t forget to take the charms today. I don’t want all that hard work wasted,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure to bring them.”

“Mind if I keep this?” I pointed to his disaster of an attempted charm.

“If you want it, it’s all yours,” he said.

I arrived at school bleary-eyed and sleep deprived. After lunch, I stepped outside for some fresh air and watched the soccer team from afar.

“Mochi, you made these charms?!”

“More or less…” Mr Mochizuki said.

“Damn, Mochi Stewart over here!”

“There’s no way we’re gonna lose our next game, now!” The players were elated with his gift.

For a moment his eyes met mine. Don’t tell, he mouthed to me. I smiled slightly, and I swore I could make out a smile on his face too. I found a charm dangling in front of me.

“You made these, didn’t you?” Eito asked.

“What makes you say that?” I asked nonchalantly.

“I know your handiwork.”

I smiled wryly. Eito knew everything about the stalker and my living with Mr Mochizuki. My teacher would probably throttle me if he knew I told someone, but there was no one I trusted more in this world than my cousin.

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#oc #hishikura #kbtbb #Our Private Homeroom #voltage inc #romance #love #teacher x student #fan fiction

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dazai-ism · 3 years ago

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bsd college au headcanons

i have so many thoughts on this that it's unbelievable. also, i'm an american, so i'm going to base this on u.s. colleges and universities (i'm so sorry). anyways, here we go

firstly, on dazai and fyodor:

for me, in all bsd modern aus, dazai and fyodor are rivals and begrudging acquaintances-maybe-friends. dazai is a psychology major, and fyodor is a criminology major. they share so many fucking classes together that they can't help but acknowledge each other's existence

that being said: they constantly battle for the valedictorian spot of their class (year). i would like to think that in the first semester of their freshman year, dazai won, but in the second semester, fyodor did. that earned him a whole quarter's worth of rebuking insults and pettiness

and they're both arrogant as hell, so they can't not brag about their scores

i imagine that if they were ever in the same literature class, one of them would purposely be the 'devil's advocate' in every single seminar just to annoy the other

on that note, can you imagine them debating the moral rationality of crime and punishment??? if you've read the book, you would understand. it would start world war fucking iii

they do work well together on group assignments and stuff, though. they prefer partnering up with each other because, in their words, "everyone else is too damn stupid"

next, dazai and kunikida:

kunikida and dazai are roommates. they met in college, not high school (probably came from opposite sides of the fucking country)

i imagine that their first interaction went like this:

dazai: oh!!! my roommate!!! welcome!!!! do you think this curtain bar is tall enough for me to hang myself on???? kunikida: what the fuck?? no????? dazai: oh, that's terribly unfortunate. also, did you request our dorm to be on the first floor? kunikida: yes, of course??? why would you want to unnecessarily climb extra flights of stairs? dazai: oh, no reason. i just wanted to try jumping out of the window, but i guess that's a foregone conclusion now [sighs wistfully] kunikida: what the actual fuck

(more under the cut!!!)

yeah. anyways

kunikida is ever-annoyed by dazai, but he also is a little bit concerned, not that he'd ever admit it

he's also a political science major on the pre-law track, so he's slightly stuck-up. at first, dazai can't believe he has this righteous, lofty dude as his roommate, but he gets used to it. i also think he would play tricks on kunikida like he does in canon—his notebook mysteriously disappears and then reappears twice a month without fail, like clockwork

kunikida is the suffering listener to most of dazai's daily ramblings (most of which are answers to 'philosophical' questions), his most recent one being: is "X food" a soup or a salad??

moving on. stem vs. humanities

there is a long-running war between the stem and humanities departments in the university, and people hold a lot of grudges. for example

tanizaki (a chemistry major) dumped a whole bottle of 1879 wine inside chuuya's (a literature major specializing in poetry) backpack once. dazai cackled at it (despite also being a humanities major), but he still took chuuya's side

kouyou (a gender studies major) started dating yosano (a biology major on the pre-med track) in their sophomore year, and it caused a huge ruckus. kouyou still has stains on her favorite dress

mori (a biology professor) is definitely not above joining in on the scheme. i imagine that he occasionally helps his students plan some quite elaborate pranks on fukuzawa (a comparative lit. professor) and his classes

atsushi is an anthropology major, while akutagawa studies astrophysics. with their peers involved, they've reluctantly participated in a few (read: a whole fucking lot) of prank wars, one of which involved a pack of gummy worms and the communal showers. dazai eggs them on every chance he gets

on the hunting dogs:

jouno is an electrical engineering major who absolutely delights in bothering his rather apathetic roommate, tecchou (a government major)

fukuchi is definitely the applied mathematics professor that everybody hates (fuck canon fukuchi)

teruko is a film and visual studies major, but she wants to minor in contemporary art. honestly, though, teruko is more of a wild card in my hcs because i like to think that she wants to dabble a little bit in everything but simply doesn't have enough spare time to invest

tachihara is a classics major. i love the idea of tachihara being a total nerd about greco-roman history. he probably sculpts as a hobby or something. i don't know

i have way too many ideas about this. i might update this more in the future >:D reply with your own hcs if you have any!!! i'd love to hear them

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #au #alternate universe #college au #headcanons #bsd headcanons

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imagine-the-fanfics · 4 years ago

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Memorized Words

Characters: College AU! Aragorn x Fem!reader

Tags: @entishramblings

Warnings: smut

A/n: this might become a series. I’m unsure, but we’ll see. Might be a series of stand alones in the same setting. I’m not sure because I have wisps of ideas, but I don’t know that I have enough to make a full-blown series. Ya know?

You first met him a month ago.

You were a new freshman, fresh off a gap year with a full ride scholarship in your pocket. Adjusting to the large campus from your small town was daunting. You hadn’t exactly been popular in high school, but you were friends with almost everyone. No one had really loved you, but no one had really hated you, either. Still, making friends was difficult.

Trying to make friends with classmates went about as well as you’d hoped. None of the “friends” you’d made were interested in anything other than sharing notes and homework answers. When you saw the signs for something called “Org Smorg”, described as a smorgasbord of student organizations attempting to recruit new members. What was a better idea than joining clubs to make friends?

You were overwhelmed with the number of organizations there, but so many interested you. One was part of the people in charge of planning campus events, including the concerts. This semester some famous singer you’d heard about but never listened to was coming, as well as your favorite spoken word poet, Blythe Baird. You decided not to get involved with that one since you worried it would take up too much time. A production team club was planning to film a short film, so you gave them your information for when they had the details figured out. Alternate theatre and some other clubs ended up in your schedule.

It was a knight in armor that caught your eye. He was short, spoke with what you thought was a Scottish accent, talking about if the lemonade really was historically accurate since they hadn’t used the exact ingredients needed. Another man, tall and blonde assured him it didn’t really matter, and that it was close enough. He was wearing some sort of elaborately embroidered tunic and trousers, boots nearly to his knees. The third man, a scruffy man shook his head and smiled to himself.

The video that was being played caught your attention. You recognized the blonde man as he posed in what appeared to be holding a fencing helmet in one hand and a sword in the other. He was smiling next to a much older gentleman with a grand outfit, similar to what you saw kings wear in those period movies you liked to watch. You watched as the screen shifted to a fight of a short man, you assumed the man in armor since it looked like the same outfit, fighting with another person. It shifted to a video of something called The Pennsic War, according to the subtitle, with a date from last year added after. Two groups of people met on what you assumed was a battlefield. The screen shifted again—

“Greetings, fair lady,” the dark-haired man said with a slight bow and smile. “Interesting stuff, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” you greeted in return, giving an awkward wave in response. “It’s… Something. What am I looking at?”

The man explained every photograph, the blond man joining as well as the short man, his helmet removed and his red hair and beard exposed.

“That’s me,” the man said proudly, beaming at the screen. “That was a good fight.”

The trio spent the next two hours explaining the group they were representing. The Society of Creative Anachronism, or SCA for short, was essentially a medieval LARPing group.

“It’s like taking the best parts of everything that occurred during the 1600s and before to modern times, while leaving the bad parts – like the plague and misogyny – behind,” the man named Aragorn said with pride. “You said you liked period movies and Dungeons and Dragons, right? I think this group would be a good fit for you.” He gave you a flyer with different dates and meetings listed. “Legolas is going to be teaching fencing—”

“I can’t teach heavy fighting on campus,” Gimli complained. “You’ll have to come to an off-campus meeting to learn that.”

“Only if you’re comfortable; there’s no obligation to do anything,” Aragorn assured, his smile was charming and inviting, and you agreed to go to some meetings on campus to see if it was something you were interested in. “That’s great! Our next meeting is a potluck, but you don’t need to bring anything—Well, maybe a hungry stomach,” he joked. You laughed and he grinned.

The potluck was full of medieval food – sausages, bread, drinks, meat, soups – and some modern food, like Oreos and some crackers and cheese. The next meeting, Legolas started teaching you fencing, and Aragorn told stories, played a lute, and sang old songs. A complete surprise to you, Gimli worked on some illumination, fancy decoration on some scrolls that were for the baron of the area. He didn’t seem the type, but he enjoyed it.

You learned so much about them all during those meetings. Aragorn was a psychology major, minoring in plant biology. He was considering switching them as a major/minor combo, but he wasn’t sure. Legolas was a computer studies major, with linguistics as a secondary major. His minors included various languages. Gimli was an international student from Wales, majoring in history and minoring in art. He complained about people thinking he was Scottish frequently. These people were so surprising and endearing, and they quickly became your closest friends despite the age difference you brought to the table.

They learned about how you left your small town out of desperation to get away from your small town and your overbearing parents. Things had been hard, but you were granted a full ride scholarship that had been saved for the couple of years you had to take off of school. You were able to focus on your studies, which you were thankful for, but that you were still worried for your grades. Aragorn offered to study with you, since your schedules met up so perfectly and you agreed.

~~**~~

The four of you sat around a fire pit in Legolas’ parents’ backyard. Apparently, they were loaded. You couldn’t remember exactly what they did, something about being a politician or ambassador or something. He lived on campus during the week, but went home on the weekends, even though he only lived about 10 minutes from campus.

The house, if you could call it that, was massive. The backyard had a pool house, a full sized pool inside. It was the size of a two story house for a family, and you’d been told it had three bedrooms. There was a tennis and basketball court a short walk away from the fire pit. If there was any doubt about how loaded this family was, it was gone now.

Aragorn was playing his guitar, singing softly as Gimli drank beer. He tried to talk you into drinking, and you respectfully declined. Eventually, Legolas told Gimli to knock it off and Gimli stopped pestering you, though he grumbled.

“Do you play?” Aragorn asked.

“Like sports? Not really. I enjoy tennis and volleyball casually, though,” you replied.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I meant instruments.”

“Oh, not really. My brother tried to teach me guitar, but I never learned. I’ve been trying to learn how to play kalimba, but I’m not good at it.”

“What’s a kalimba?” Gimli asked.

“It’s a thumb piano that sounds like a music box.”

“That sounds lovely,” Legolas said with a smile.

“Maybe next time you can play it for us,” Aragorn suggested. “Do you sing?”

“I’m not good at it,” you admitted, looking at the fire.

“I disagree,” Legolas chimed in. “I heard you before I arrived at the last meeting.”

“I’ll judge it for myself,” Aragorn said, continuing to strum random notes on his guitar. “What do you want to sing? I know a lot of songs, old and new.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate. “Jenny of Oldstone?”

“From Game of Thrones?” Aragorn asked, starting to play it softly. You nodded. “I think I remember how to play it.”

“That sounds right,” Legolas said. Gimli leaned back in his chair.

Gimli frowned as he realized he was out of beer. He opened the cooler and cursed when he saw it was empty, and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he announced, “don’t start without me.” He made his way back into the house with the cooler.

“How much can that man drink?” You asked, amazed.

“A lot,” Legolas and Aragorn said in unison. Aragorn chuckled and shook his head.

“I guess you have time to warm up, if you want.” Aragorn was still smiling as he looked at you.

“I’m not sure how,” you admitted shyly, looking into the fire.

“I’ll teach you.” and Aragorn did just that. The two

you sang tongue twisters and scales.

By the time Gimli was back, you and Aragorn had finished.

“Didn’t start without me, did ya?” Gimli asked.

“Nope!” You smiled at him. “Aragorn helped me warm up. Gimli hummed in approval and you looked to Aragorn. “Should we start?” You asked.

He nodded and started to play. He stumbled on a note, surprised by the quality of your voice. He quickly recovered, focusing on his attention on the movement of his fingers against the neck of the guitar. You were embarrassed, but you still sang without issue.

Gimli clapped as you finished. “Sing something else!”

“Leave her be,” Aragorn sighed before turning to you. “You sing beautifully. Why don’t you think so?”

“Just been told that a few times too many to think otherwise,” you said with a shrug, looking into the fire.

“Bastards,” Gimli stated simply. “Liars and bastards.”

You smiled, not saying anything.

“If she won’t sing then you should,” Gimli said to Aragorn.

“Alright, let me think.” Aragorn looked up at the stars, to you, and then into the fire. “Got it,” he said before tuning the guitar. “I just started learning this one, though.”

“Oh?” Legolas looked to you as if figuring out a puzzle.

“I memorized all the words for you, but if you only knew how much that’s just not like me.” You shivered, you’d heard Aragorn sing before, but this was different. “I wait up late every night just to hear your voice, but you don’t know that’s nothing like me.”

It reminded you of those nights when you would call him, unable to sleep. He’d tell you a story until you were about to crash. You’d say goodnight, wondering what he had stayed up until 1 am, but dismissed it as him working on his schoolwork.

Legolas watched you, sipping a beer he’d just gotten from Gimli. You felt like you were being judged, and mildly ganged up on. You had a feeling what was happening, but you were terrified of being wrong.

”I want to make sure everything is perfect for you. If you only knew that's not like me to follow through. Maybe even give up all these dead end dreams just to be with you, but you don't know that's nothing like me.” His voice was rough but tender, gentle yet soft. There was some kind of yearning, some kind of heartache, in his voice as he sang.

You wanted him to be singing about you, though you weren’t entirely sure why. It was strange. You’d had crushes in the past, but this felt different. You’d thought it was close friendship, but now you were realizing that wasn’t the case.

“Just when I thought all was lost,” Aragorn’s eyes were glued to you as he sang, “you came and made it all okay.”

You damn near swooned and he returned his gaze to the neck of his guitar. Legolas watched you carefully, sipping his beer. Gimli, oblivious, watched Aragorn, finishing his beer.

The song ended and Legolas looked to Aragorn and then to Gimli before back to Aragorn.

“Mind watching the fire? It looks like it’s about done, and I’m tired. Gimli and I are tired—“

“I’m not tired,” Gimli interrupted.

“Regardless, we’re going inside. I’ll let you have some of my expensive whiskey.”

“The $300 stuff?” Gimli’s eyes were sparkling.

“Sure, but let’s get inside quickly.”

“I’ll help clean up,” you said, standing.

“No, that’s alright. It can wait until morning.” Legolas stood up, and Gimli followed him into the mansion.

The only sounds were the crickets, cackling of the fire, and Aragorn’s guitar. Fifteen minutes of this and the fire was dying. You didn’t realize you were shivering until Aragorn spoke up.

“Are you okay? You’re shivering.”

“I guess I’m a bit cold,” you admitted.

“Come here then,” he suggested, patted next to him on the bench.

His guitar was placed on the stone floor and he shrugged off his leather jacket, draping it around you when you took the spot next to him. He put an arm around you, pulling you closer.

Aragorn smelled of leather and patchouli, trees and dirt and grass, and it was comforting. You scooted as close to him as you could, his warmth so nice.

Silence loomed, but it was as comfortable as it was terrifying. There was so much you wanted to say, but couldn’t muster the courage until the fire was out.

“We should go inside,” Aragorn muttered, petting your head as you leaned against his chest.

“Can I ask you a question first?” You looked up at him but realized you didn’t have a good view, so you leaned away from him.

“Sure, ask away.” Aragorn looked nervous and relaxed at the same time, though you had never seen that combination before.

“That song…” You couldn’t finish it.

“I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot, actually.” He looked into the fire, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “That first night you called because you couldn’t sleep, I was asleep and woke up to you calling me—“

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you muttered, pulling his jacket around you tighter.

“No, it’s alright,” he assured. “I started staying awake later in case you called again. A few days of that and that song came on the radio and I realized that I had feelings for you, so I started to learn it.” He grabbed the poker and adjusted the embers, helping them go out. “And then I realized I’ve never learned a song for anyone except my ex, and now you.”

You didn’t know what to say, and he took your silence as an invitation to continue.

“I saw you at Org Smorg and wanted to you win you over and bring you into the SCA so I could keep seeing you. I was so excited when you showed up at the first meeting. When you said you were worried about your grades, I saw an opportunity and offered to form a study group. I’ve never studied with someone else before, but it was a chance to see you more.”

More silence.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have told you this—“

You cut him off with a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Don’t apologize. I’ve got a dumb schoolgirl crush on you, too. Have for a while, just didn’t realize it until tonight.”

Aragorn just stared at you in shock, so you kissed him again, one hand snaking around his neck, the other still holding his jacket over your shoulders. He kissed you back, and it deepened, getting more needy and intense. There was an urgency in it that caught you off guard, and you were surprised when you realized you had initiated that step.

One hand wrapped around your back, the other played with the bottom hem of your tank top before rubbing down your body and resting on your exposed thigh. You shivered at the gentle touch.

“Still cold?” Aragorn murmured against your lips.

“Yeah. Mind if we go inside?” You asked.

“Sure.” You could tell Aragorn was disappointed, but the fact he wasn’t going to pressure you into anything tonight made your heart palpitate.

He stood up, offering a hand to help you up. You graciously accepted it, making your way into the mansion. Neither of you had let go of the others hand, so you held hands until you got to the door. He opened the door for you, and then followed you inside.

You kissed him again, one hand on his neck and the other on his chest. His jacket fell to the floor, but he didn’t seem to care. One hand held the back of your head, the other resting on your waist.

“Can you walk me to my room?” You asked, breathless from the kiss. “I don’t remember where it is.”

Aragorn blinked for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure. This place is huge and it’s easy to get lost.” His brow furrowed, and he looked confused.

Every so often, your lips would meet his. Both of you were guilty of initiating; both of you were guilty of wanting more. You had no idea where he was leading you. Simply put, the feeling of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body, his hands on your waist, the smell of him coaxing you into a feeling you hadn’t felt in so long, made it impossible to make a map of this place in your mind. The longing for more was unrelenting, making your heart race in your chest.

At some point, you found yourself against a wall, his knee between your legs and his lips to your neck. He used one hand to brace against the wall while the other ran from your waist to your hip to your thigh, sliding under your skirt as it traveled up your thigh again. Your breath hitched when his fingers grazed the little bit of fabric that rested on your hip.

“Is this alright?” He asked, lust dripping from his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing just how much he was holding back -- the opposite of what you wanted him to do in this moment.

“Yes.” It came out as a gasp. You hadn’t realized you were panting until his lips were on your neck again. As if it had a mind of its own, your head tilted to the side, exposing your neck to him.

His lips found their way to yours once more, the hand that had been caressing your body slowly running up your side, cupping your breast before continuing up your body until it finally came to rest on your neck. Your hips rocked against him, one hand on his lower back trying to pull him closer and the other hand on his shoulder, moving to the back of his neck.

“We should--” He was panting, trying to catch his breath and focus. “We should get you to your room.”

“Join me?” You asked, breathless still.

“I shouldn’t,” Aragorn took your hands in his and took a step back, bringing your hands to his lips. “You need to rest.”

“Please change your mind before we get there.” You looked at him, wanting nothing more than to drop to your knees and satisfy him that way if you could not have him the way you wanted him.

He smiled softly, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I mean it, Aragorn,” you assured, pressing your hips to his again. “I want you, and I know you want me, too.” You moved your hands from his grip and rested them on his chest, pressing your lips to his neck.

Instinctively, he braced against the wall again, his leg between your thighs. Your hips had a mind of their own, and started to rock on his thigh, looking for any ounce of friction that could bring satisfaction.

“Are you a virgin?” He asked.

“What?” You couldn’t seem to focus.

“I don’t want this to be your first time. I want it to be special for you.”

“I’ve known a man before,” you sighed, biting your lip and closing your eyes. “Now I want to know you, too,” you breathed on to his neck, trying not to moan at the feeling of his thigh under you.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Aragorn was breathless, and the sound of it only made you want him more, need him more, “and decide from there.”

His lips crashed against yours once more, for the briefest moment, before he nuzzled into your neck. He took your hand, pulling you from the wall before dropping it. Quickly, he walked you to your room. As if it was ritual now, the two of you would end up against a wall, bodies pressed together, lips trying to devour each other.

By the time you made it to your room, there was no more restraint. The door slammed shut as you were pushed against it. You giggled at the sound, and Aragorn grinned, pressing a finger to his lips, eyes locked on yours.

“Shhh…” His forehead pressed against yours as he chuckled. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him. You were still giggling as he lowered you onto the bed, hovering over you. “How do you feel about oral?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only given it once.” It felt odd to admit it. No, you weren’t a virgin, but your experience with sex was limited. Your partner had been so vanilla the sex was almost boring, and you were already having more fun with Aragorn than you did with them.

“Only given it once?” Aragorn’s eyes sparkled with mischief, even though his eyes were darker with his lustful need. “Well then.”

The next thing you knew he was pushing your skirt up, bringing your hips to the edge of the bed, maneuvering your knees over his shoulders.

“Tell me if you want me to stop at any time, okay?” He wrapped his arms around the outside of your legs, his hands resting on your thighs.

Your breath hitched as he started to eat you out, stopping after a moment to push your panties to the side with one hand, the other still holding your leg in position. You felt him in places you didn’t know you could feel him in, and it felt divine.

You started to moan and you felt him chuckle against you. He lifted his head away, smiling at you for a moment before returning to what he was doing. You closed your eyes, one hand grabbing the comforter and the other covering your mouth. You’d never made sounds like these before, but you were too in the moment to think about it.

After what felt like not enough time, Aragorn sat back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, grining.

“You like that, don’t you?” He was grinning like a mad man, but all you could do was nod and whine. “You want me to keep going?” he asked. You nodded again, moving your body in an attempt to coax him back to you. “Alright, alright.”

He was between your legs again, holding your panties to the side with one hand while his other slipped a finger inside you. You covered your mouth with both hands, your back arching at the new sensation. He chuckled against you, continuing to work, slowly adding fingers, until he could feel you approaching your orgasm. He picked up the pace, eager to make you cum hard, and cum hard you did. No matter how hard you’d tried to stay quiet, the moan you let loose was surely heard around the mansion.

His eyes closed, his fingers slowed, letting you ride out the waves they’d caused. His tongue continued for the same reason. He listened to your moans and pants like they were his new favorite song. Once it was all over, he carefully set your legs down from his shoulders and wiped his mouth off again.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing your knee.

“I--” It took a few moments for you to be able to think enough to speak. “Yes,” you said once you were finally able.

“I take it you enjoyed it, then?”

You looked at him, with his big, dumb, goofy grin that you’d seen so many times and looked back at the ceiling. “I did, but I--” You sighed, running your hands over your face to rub it. “I don’t want to stop there.”

“Why do we have to stop?” Aragorn asked, frowning.

“We don’t have condoms, and I’m not going to be able to blow you half as well as you ate me.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that on me, ever, unless you want to. Regardless of how ‘good’ you think you are, it doesn’t matter. All I care about is you being satisfied. If you’re not into something, you’re not into something.” You watched him as he talked. “As for condoms… There are some in the bedside table drawer.” You blinked, about to get upset when he continued. “They’re in all the rooms. Legolas host parties here sometimes while his parents are away. Things sometimes get.. Well. You know how it is at parties.”

You shook your head. You’d never been to the kind of party he was talking about.

“You don’t?” Aragorn seemed surprised. “I’ll have to take you to the next one, if you want to go, I mean. Like I said, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “I’d like to do that. You know what else I’d like?”

“Hmm?” Aragorn hummed, kissing your thigh.

“For you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Aragorn made quick work of getting you undressed, spending more time on pleasuring you than your last partner had. It made you feel cherished and adored and it made you embarrassed you weren’t doing the same for him. Aragorn was a giver, though, focused more on his partner’s pleasure than his own.

He trailed kisses up your belly, lifting your shirt as he went. By the time he reached your chest he was carefully pulling your shirt off. He kissed your chest, massaging your breasts before removing your bra and kissing those, too.

His mouth moved to your nipple and he suckled, kneading your other in his hand. His tongue flicked your nipple, and his other hand went from your breast down between your legs, sliding inside you once again. His pace was gentle, deliberate, until he curled his fingers and he moved faster. Increasing his pace until you were moaning. He moved to your other breast, curious if he could make you reach your orgasm with his mouth and hands once more.

Your hips started to move on their own, trying to quicken his pace, feel him deeper inside you. He obliged to the best of his abilities, only slowing down once he heard you moan and felt you pulsate around his fingers.

Aragorn pulled away from your breasts, watching you ride the waves of the pleasure he’d brought you. Once you were finished, he started to kiss your neck. Careful not to touch you with the fingers that had been inside you and were slick with your wetness. He got off the bed and you watched him, too spent to move at this point.

He grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped his fingers off, dropping the tissue onto the table for now, and grabbing a condom from the drawer and returning to the bed, kissing your neck as he undid his pants, pausing only to fully remove his clothing until he was as naked and exposed as you were.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aragorn asked, returning to caress your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I do,” you murmured.

He kissed your neck more, pausing only to put the condom on and climb over you. Once again, he peppered kisses to your neck, slowly trailing and climbing up to your lips. The two of you kissed, comfortable and relaxed, but passionate still.

“Are you ready?” He growled against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

You nodded.

Aragorn positioned himself at your entrance, eyes locked on yours as he made his way inside. You gasped, an airy moan escaping you. A shiver crawled up his spine this time, and he gave you time to adjust.

You rested one hand on his back, the other on his shoulder. You dug your nails into his skin as he started to rock his hips, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder and neck — biting and suckling on the skin available.

The thrusts started slow, quickly picking up pace as you continued to adjust. He pulled away from your neck to look into your eyes. He was bracing himself with his hands on either side of you, but he shifted his weight to one so he could caress and hold your face, smiling at you as he continued to fuck you. You put a hand over his, struggling to stay quiet.

“You don’t have to stay quiet,” Aragorn assured softly. “I don’t care who hears, I want you to moan for me. I want you to—” He had to pause to groan himself. “You feel so good, Y/n.” Once he was refocused he continued what he was saying, “I want you to call my name. Let the whole world know who’s giving you pleasure tonight.”

Your hips were desperately trying to meet his, trying to force him deeper. He paused to pull out, grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge of the bed again. He put your legs over his shoulders, aligned himself, and went back to work. You had tears in your eyes. It felt so good that you were already feeling a familiar coil in your belly.

“Aragorn,” you moaned, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” he was panting, watching you as your face was smothered in pleasure. You couldn’t see it, but he was grinning, proud of himself for making you into this. “So perfect.”

“Aragorn, don’t stop,” you pleaded, hands gripping the sheets. “Go faster,” you whined, your hips bucking.

Aragorn obliged, he reached down, playing with your clit as he pounded into you. After a moment he’s topped and pulled out, and you looked at him in frustration.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded, eyes dark.

You did as you were told, and he entered you again. His hands took your hips, and slammed yourself against him. He thrust and pulled you to him, groaning.

You were all but screaming his name as he pounded into you, hitting deeper than you thought he could. After what felt like not long enough, the coil in your belly snapped and your vision tunneled. You moaned his name, collapsing and your head rested on the bedding, riding the waves of pleasure that were hitting you.

You pulsating around him was enough to push him over the edge and he groaned your name, thrusting a couple more times before he bent over you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled out, gently adjusting you so you weren’t on your knees anymore.

Aragorn was panting, watching you as you stared back at him, completely spent from your orgasms. He grinned, running a hand from his forehead and through his hair, pushing it back. After a moment he rolled onto his side, gently caressing your body. Your face, your side, your arms, your back — his caresses reached everywhere sighing reach.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked gently, his caresses back to your face.

“Only the good kind of hurt,” you admitted with a soft smile.

“I guess I shouldn’t apologize, should I?”

“No, you shouldn’t.” You closed your eyes, sighing. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, but you should at least use the restroom. I’ll get your pajamas from your bag for you, alright?” He patted your butt and sat up, chuckling as your eyes followed him but your body didn’t move. “Come on, I know you’re tired, but I don’t want you to get an infection.”

You sighed, realizing he was right, and you rolled onto your back. He leaned over, kissing your stomach. It was comforting and tender, and you realized you never wanted to be with anyone else, sexually or romantically. You wanted to be with Aragorn, and you wanted to stay with him.

He helped you up, making sure you eased yourself into standing and walking. He helped you to the bathroom before returning to the room. Some time later, he returned, holding your clothing in his hands. You felt like you needed a shower, and debated on taking a shower. Ultimately, you decided you wouldn’t, so you took your clothes from him and dressed in the bathroom. Stepping out and gently kissing him before making your way to the bedroom.

You were a bit bowlegged, but you had no complaints about that. It was so delightfully worth it, and a reminder of the pure bliss Aragorn had given you moments before. You collapsed on your bed, not moving.

You knew instinctively that the hands that were rubbing your back belonged to Aragorn, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling.

“You’re exhausted,” Aragorn observed quietly, moving some of your hair out of your face. “Let’s get you tucked into bed.” His voice was so soft and tender it made you want to cry.

He was being so gentle, and this was something you’d never experienced before. He pulled back the sheets as best he could before picking you up and gently putting you down so your head rested on the pillow. He kissed your forehead before pulling the rest of the sheets and blankets down and then pulling them over you.

He kissed your forehead again, muttered a “good night,” and started to move from the bed when you grabbed his arm. Aragorn looked back at you, surprised.

“Stay with me?” You asked softly, moments from sleep. “Please? Sleep next to me.”

Aragorn looked into your eyes, unsure what to do. After a moment he smiled gently.

“Sure, I’ll stay with you tonight.”

#Aragorn #Lord of the Rings #aragorn x reader

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incorrect-mha-bnha · 5 years ago

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Headcannon/Au Drabble

Kirishima is standing too close to a villain when Bakugou detonates a viscous blast, not taking into consideration that he couldn’t harden everything immediately without fair warning. Kirishima ends up going deaf because of the close proximity.

Nitroglycerin is addtictive, therefore? Midoriya has been around Bakugou the longest (excluding his parents which would have been warned by a doctor awhile ago) and is probably addicted to it despite Bakugou’s many attempts to keep their distance. Midoriya is just a crackhead.

Shigaraki was never able to play patty cake as a kid and that’s depressing in itself.

Ship hc: Person A plays video games with friends and wears a headset. Person B doesn’t play but likes wearing a pair and sitting in their S/O’s lap while talking with everyone.

The Joker/Harley Q trope for a couple dynamic is really valid in many BNHA ships. Person A and B are very capable heroes/people that know how to defend themselves but like to call their S/O in times of trouble. Person A is stopped by a bad guy and calls out for Person B with pure enjoyment for what is about to go down. All the villain hears is loud banging as B gets closer.

Bakugou is actually really amazing at doing makeup and hairstyles, along with doing nails. I’m going to say he learned most of that from self taught occasions, his mom, maybe some aunts and Best Jeanist. ANYWAY, all the class girls love to ask Bakugou for some pampering whenever they can. They always win him over after the fifth or sixth time they beg or give some sort of puppy eyes but Bakugou would never admit to actually liking doing those things.

Kirishima is the type of guy friend to carry pads/tampons in his bag at all times just incase any of the girls may need emergency supplies. He may go as far as bringing Tylenol or even an extra hoodie.

Bakugou owns a lot of house plants, and for many reasons. He’s the best and pretty smart which means he’s eco friendly. What does eco friendly entail? Going green! I hc that he probably refused to show his room because it’s completely jungled out (or full of cute plants and fancy pots). Based on his personality and my own projection, he’d like a plant that isn’t too demanding on care but I doubt he’d mind a challenge. Maybe a handful of succulents and a good amount of cacti- throwing in some Devil’s Ivy and a cute palm tree. Bakugou could spend hours tending to them, watering and building a nice ledge to rest them on just before his window. Indulging in new pots and fancy equipment for the sake of being extra. It’s all about the principle really. Plants produce oxygen, not to mention that some are really good for health as well.

BAKUGOU IS TRANS (but I would never press that on anyone)

Deaf Bakugou?? At a young age when Bakugou was first starting to learn about his quirk, he unleashed a very large, uncontrolled explosion way too close to his ears. That resulted in him becoming completely deaf in one ear and partially in the other.

Shouto is partially blind/visually impaired/completely blind in his right (left??) eye thanks to the BOILING HOT WATER being poured on his EYE. You can’t tell me homeboy didn’t get some sort of damage done from that besides some gnarly burns.

Kaminari has ADHD

Kirishima is extremely roudy and wild, also gay. Very gay.

Kirishima is trans (there are many things that point to this conclusion). Such as: If a transmasc got top surgery, he wouldn’t wear a fucking shirt again either. Talking manly and wanting to be manly is like the basis of what trans guy are working on. And the whole thing about him being gay? Is he really attracted to them or does he want to be them????

They aren’t allowed to have animals in the dorms despite a lot of begging done by all. However, Bakugou decided to say fuck you to the rule and has a bunch of animals in his room. Now. He gets away with it for a few reasons. 1) He isn’t loud about it, doesn’t go around showing them off or boasting like usual. Won’t bring them out of the dorm or let anyone see when he brings supplies back. 2) No one would suspect Bakugou to be such an animal lover or one to break that rule. Sad to say, he does. Many times over the course of high school, in fact. What animals could he possibly have? HMmMm let’s think, shall we? No doubt a hamster, a real grumpy one though. It has to have personality. A Bearded Dragon, Ball Python, a few Corn snakes. Maybe a gecko. But you have to believe he has a cat too. There is no way he wouldn’t. A furry brat that keeps him company while he studies and works out? Jumping on his back as he does yoga and sleeps on his face at night. There is no way. The best part is that the cat is deaf, which is why he adopted it. He went in looking for another lizard and came out with a sassy feline with no hearing. So what? He went soft.

Midoriya would be the first to go to jail between him and Bakugou. Hands down. Think about it... He broke numerous laws just to get a friend back and had no guilt for it. He was just all ‘Ehh, what you gonna do about it?’ when the fuzz pulled up to press charges. Bakugou is just crass and volatile, he threatens to kill people... but has he ever been seen killing someone? In conclusion, Midoriya is a delinquent covered up by his positive cinnamon bun nature.

Alright, personal projection time!! Kirishima bites and chews ice cream. Denki eats soup with a straw. Shouto eats cereal with a fork, “What? I don’t like too much milk. It strains out this way.”. Bakugou is just as bad, he’s a teenager and will do shit just because. Aka, he will go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night for some milk n cookies. When he realizes there is no more milk, he will throw a silent fit because he wanted those damn cookies. Begrudgingly though, he will pour a glass of water and dunk his Oreos in then eat em like that. I don’t make the rules, it’s just what happens.

Bakugou needs constant love and constant positive reinforcement along with help on his anxiety. Give that boy a service dog. A big fluffy golden service dog. A really large, extremely fluffy service down he can hug and hide his face in whenever something is bothering him. A real big puppy that makes him feel secure and makes him laugh. Damn it! Give him a dog now!

Kirishima is rowdy and wild. Baby boy is a teenager. Not to mention is invisible and hyped up on manly shit. THERE IS NO BOUNDS FOR WHAT HE WOULD DO. Think about it. He’d literally card Todoroki into setting him on fire just to see how long he can hold his hardening for. He would have Inasa drop him from the FUCKING SKY just for the hell of it. Hello? Is this thing even on? Kirishima is wild.

Dabi is afraid of spiders. Don’t ask me to elaborate. He just seems like a man with that primal fear.

BAKUGOU IS A FUCKING FASHION ICON OUTSIDE OF SCHOOL. SO FUCKING HELP ME I WILL SCREAM THIS LOUD N PROUD—

Bakugou and Midoriya don’t know how to tie a tie. Midoriya learned that weird funky napkin trick shit from just giving the fuck up and saying “Oh, hey! That looks sorts similar!” And went with it. Bakugou just can’t. He can’t. The only reason his ID shows him with a tie is because Mitsuki tied it for him before hand, and he never let it happen since. They are hopeless. That is all.

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queenkrissy11-fandomaccount · 5 years ago

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Skeletons in the Closet - Eight

Biker!Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Wealthy!Good Girl!Reader High School Au

Warnings-Swearing, sandals, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, cheating, smoking, drinking, alcoholics, drug addicts, bullying, illegitimate children, abuse, and violence

With all the money the Mitchel’s have, many assume their lives are as picture perfect as they seem. Behind the glamorous vacations, luxurious mansion, and success that everyone sees, their lives are far from it. The only heir to the fortune, their perfect daughter Y/N, faces the worst of it. Beneath her perfectly curled hair and her flawless grades, is a closet full of skeletons just waiting to get out.

Their next door neighbor, Steven Grant Rogers, is far from your typical boy next door. He wore a leather jacket rather than button ups, sweat shirts, and tees like the boys in the movies. He opted for a smirk rather than a sweet smile. And to top it all off he chose a motorcycle over whatever you’d picture a cute boy in. But then again, Steve Rogers wasn’t cute, he was irresistible.

Atleast to most girls. Y/N refuses to give into the boy that likes to cloud her thoughts. The last thing she needs is a biker added to the list of things to keep from the media. A lot is expected from the heiress, and at the top of the list, right under taking over the empire, is having the perfect image. A hot, dirty biker is the last thing her image needs. However, her needs differ greatly from those of her image. And compared to everything else she keeps hidden, the media wouldn’t give Steve a second thought.

The cops show up in a matter of minutes and you have to fill out a statement. Natasha’s dad is also there, listening intently to every word you say and jumping to your defense any time they attempt to question you or what you’re telling them. Steve’s arm never moves from around your waist.

Now that they know where to look, they are easily able to pile enough evidence to arrest your father. Between his phone record, payment transfers, and an email detailing the location, he was also easily convicted.

Wanda pays you a visit while you’re in the hospital, clutching your hand tightly while she speaks. You have to stay a few days for observation.

As you leave the hospital, Steve insists on you staying with him. Before you’re even through the door, Sarah wraps her arms around you in a bone crushing hug, “Oh, we were so worried, sweetie!”

Her hug is so much different than those Alexis offers. Sarah’s is far from what would be deemed appropriate for people with reputations like the both of you, and yet, you find comfort in it. Alexis only hugs you to help the happy family front your parents put up. She never does it in private, only when it will be seen and noticed. The only person that saw Sarah was Steve. She isn’t doing this to put on a show, she’s just hugging you. It’s different than what you’re used to but you like it.

She pulls back, “Come in, dear.” She closes the door behind you and leads you to the kitchen. There’s a pot of soup on the stove and the long table is set for three. “Take a seat. Joe won’t be home until tonight so it’s just us for now. But, he’ll be home in time to see you off.”

“See us off?” You ask, glancing from Sarah to Steve.

Steve clears his throat, “We won’t do anything you don’t want to, but we are both 18 so keep in mind you can choose whatever you want.” You nod at him to continue, “It won’t be a problem to finish our testing and graduate early, and we can do that anywhere.”

Sarah sighs, “Steve, just spit it out.”

He throws a look at his mom, “We can leave, Y/n. We have houses around the globe, pick a spot and that’s where we’ll go. I think we need to get out of here and move on to live our lives.”

You can’t find the words but eagerly nod. Steve gives you a grin, “Yes?”

You can’t help but smile back, “Yes! Let’s get the hell out of this town.”

“Language,” Sarah scolds lightly, a small chuckle to accompany it.

By nightfall, you and Steve each have your necessities and a stash of cash in a backpack in addition to the card they practically force you to take. His parents had insisted they’d hardly miss the money they gave you and it would be more than enough to get the two of you on your feet. You guys will have to buy everything you need when you get there because you only have room for the single bag on the bike and you both decided that was enough.

“Don’t forget to call,” Sarah reminds you from where she stood, under Joe’s arm.

“Let us know if you need anything, and we mean anything,” Joe chimed in. “We’ll come visit you once you get settled in.” They each give you a tight hug, already treating you like one of their own.

You hop on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Steve tightly and ride off into the night. You’ve fallen in love with the rumble of the engine and the man in your arms all in one go.

You both fell in love with a small town in Vermont while passing through and chose Stowe as the perfect place to make yourselves a home. The days spent on the back of a bike and in cheap motel rooms had brought the two of you closer than you thought possible. It feels like you’ve been in love forever rather the short while you actually have. The two of you were able to test out and graduate a day into your journey and now are focused on finding an actual house.

You’d only toured half the homes in the town. You’d seen everything, big and small, old and new. None of them had felt right. You’re driving to the final house of the day when a for sale sign catches your eye.

“Steve, pull over here,” You give a soft tug on his jacket and he pulls to the side of the road. The house in question is definitely a fixer upper but something about it speaks to you. No one comes to the door when you knock so you call the number on the sign. In no time, the owner, a small older woman, is unlocking the door for you.

“Now, there’s nothing wrong with this place it just hasn’t been cared for properly. This was the first house I bought with my late husband. After he passed I couldn’t be here without missing him greatly. Haven’t been back since.” She gives a small sniffle but continues to show you around.

Everything is covered in dust and there is no furniture but you have a vision. You can see two leather love seats around the fireplace in the corner and a big rug in between. A fresh coat of paint on the walls and some proper cleaning would be enough to make this place look new.

The stone countertop is in perfect condition. The hardwood floors are scratched where bar stools would be so they don’t need to be redone. It isn’t close to the size of the homes you or Steve were raised in but it seemed to fit your needs perfectly.

The house has four bedrooms and three bathrooms, and to top it all off, the woman is selling it dirt cheap. “I need it off my hands and the two of you remind me of myself, when I was young and in love.” She offers a kind smile.

“We’ll take it,” Steve doesn’t bother asking you because he saw the starstruck look on your face as you toured the place. “I can transfer the money tonight if you’ll send over the paperwork.”

The woman stares at him in shock but eventually nods and makes a call. You flash enough money around and anything can be done in a night. The paperwork was done and it is just Steve and you alone in the house. Not the house, your house. You guys have a house!

The following morning you find yourself in the hardware store downtown. “Eggshell or ivory?” You hold up two samples.

Steve raises an eyebrow, “They look the same to me.” You stare him down for a moment. “Uh, ivory.”

You give him a big grin, “That’s what I was thinking.” You add the sample to the rest in your cart. Today the two of you are repainting the entire house.

“I think we should do a pastel for the kitchen,” You suggest, glancing over the wall of colors.

“Yellow?” You scrunch your face in distaste, “Blue?” You shake your head so he comes up behind you to look for the right color. He plucks one up, “Lavender?”

“Perfect. Maybe accents of mint?” You suggest.

Steve just shakes his head and gives you a lovestruck grin.

Steve disappears while you’re taping the trim and around the ceiling. The place had been properly cleaned overnight because you were too excited to sleep.

You’re halfway done painting the living room a warm cream color when the front door opens and closes. “Doll?” Steve’s voice rings from the kitchen.

“In here,” You shout, not taking your attention away from the walls. “How does it look, babe?”

He comes up next to you, “Great but the color looks even better on you.” Before you can ask, he brings his thumb up and is rubbing dried paint off your temple with a chuckle.

You raise an eyebrow and put a hand on your hip, “You gonna help or just disappear?”

He laughs, not being able to take you seriously in your attire. Your hair is up in a very messy bun, pieces falling out to frame your face. You’re in a thin white t shirt and half done up overalls that are rolled up your calves. The bare feet and paint down your clothes tie it all together. You’d come a long way from the girl that always kept up the perfect image, and to Steve, you’ve never looked more gorgeous.

He bites his lip for a moment, taking in your attire and how beautiful you look in it. “I have the finishing touch for your look.”

You roll your eyes and go back to painting, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” You turn around when he doesn’t elaborate and find him on one knee. The ring between his fingers is simple and delicate but more stunning than anything you’ve seen before.

The paint brush slips from your fingers and clangs to the floor, “Shit!”

“Not what I thought you’d say-” He starts but you cut him off.

“No, of course the answer is yes! We’re just going to have a hell of a hard time getting that off the floors.

He laughs and slips the ring on your finger.

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers biker au #steve rogers bad boy au #skeletons in the closet eight #skeletons in the closet 8

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years ago

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Innocent Intentions

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Tao x Reader

Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

“Honey? (y/n), honey, are you feeling any better?

You groaned, flipping over to your stomach to bury your face in the musky smelling pillow. The scent filled your nose and you smiled happily to yourself. Cold fingers brushed up against your forehead, making you shiver. Reluctantly, you peeled open your eyes to see your mom hovering over you from the back of the couch.

“Hey, there, sleepyhead,” she giggled at you.

With another groan, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. Did you dream that whole thing with Tao?

No. The bowl of soup was still sitting on the coffee table and your brain was connecting the smell left behind on the fabric of your pillow to the scent that you’d picked up on Tao’s shirt. Where the hell did he go?

“I’m glad you finally got some sleep,” your mom stated as she started for the kitchen. “Do you want me to warm this broth up for you?”

“No, that’s okay,” you said loudly before a yawn stretched out your face.

The fact that your mother wasn’t questioning another person being in her house while she was gone must have meant that Tao left before she arrived. But did he leave because she came home? Or was it because you falling asleep with your arms wrapped around him was already making him uneasy? You snorted to yourself. If it was the latter, then this whole “scaring him away” tactic might be easier than you thought.

However, you were going to have to be careful. You fell asleep too easily in his arms. Sure, it could be blamed on the fact that you were sick and your body was already exhausted so that sleep was inevitable, but you’d been trying to sleep all day and nothing – not even the strong cold medicine – had knocked you out. The way your head just seemed to fit so comfortably against his chest… admittedly, it scared you a bit. You liked it too much.

You’ll be happy when he’s out of your hair, you told yourself. Your life was perfectly fine before you’d ever heard the name “Tao” and it would be perfectly fine after he was long gone.

But a nagging feeling still pulled at your stomach, so you did what came naturally to you once you came to a dilemma, and turned to your mother for help.

When you shuffled into the kitchen – hesitating almost as if you didn’t want her to spot you – your mother was getting started on dinner for her and your father, the broth sitting in a plastic container off to the side and away from the heat.

“Did you change your mind about the soup?” your mother asked as you sat down at the kitchen island.

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay for right now.” After that, you didn’t elaborate, instead swirling your finger around on the shiny, smooth granite, drawing nonsensical pictures out of the different colors.

Knife in hand, your mother set up her chopping board and began to dice the tomatoes and peppers laying off to her left. “Is something bothering you, sweetie?”

Darn that motherly intuition.

“No,” you replied automatically. But that was dumb and counter-intuitive to your object. “Actually, yeah….”

Your mother snickered at your hesitancy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You blew a raspberry before finally giving in. “Yeah, kind of. I guess….” But there you went, stopping yourself again. Whimpering, you let your head fall down to the counter with a muffled thump.

“Oh goodness,” your mother laughed. “This must be serious. I haven’t seen you this flustered since you found out you had to kiss Devon Trinket in that school play.”

At the mention of your high school theater days, you snapped your head up, eyes narrowed at her for daring to bring that up.

Drama was just supposed to be a fun extracurricular activity that didn’t involve sports in any way. And you enjoyed it, whether you were behind the scenes or on the stage. But the fact that your first kiss had to be fake and on display for the audience to see had been mortifying. Up until that opening night, you’d come up with every excuse to not have to kiss him – from a cold sore to a particularly smelly lunch – but the inevitable could not be avoided forever. To this day, you cringed at how unromantic and awkward it had been. There was supposed to be a silent pact within the family to never mention it again, but apparently your mother had forgotten that.

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” your mother asked in a more serious tone.

“Well-” How the hell were you supposed to explain this? “There’s this guy….”

Your mother’s eyebrows jumped right up to her hairline. “A guy?” She teasingly felt your forehead. “Wow, you must be sick.”

“Stop,” you whined as you pushed her hand away. “I’m being serious.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she sighed as she patted your head. Even as you were about to graduate college, she still treated you like her little girl, teasing and affectionate gestures and all. “So, is this a guy you have feelings for?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” you countered quickly. “But… he did say that he likes me. Very bluntly, actually.” That had certainly never happened to you before. There was an incident where one of you classmates in your second year of high school had slid you a note, but since you didn’t feel the same way, you took the awkward way out and just pretended that it never happened. He never said anything to you again about it either, so it was probably for the best.

“And you’re not sure that you like him back?”

You shook your head. “I don’t. I know I don’t like him. Or… at least, I don’t think I do. I don’t know him well enough. But I do know that he’s a total player. Like, his reputation is infamous on campus.”

“And so you don’t know if he was being sincere when he told you?”

You nodded. “I mean, it seemed sincere, but I don’t know how good of an actor this guy is. I could just be another notch in his belt and I refuse to allow myself to become a laughing stock.”

With sympathetic eyes, your mother smiled at you. Unfortunately, that look didn’t seem to be meant for you. “I’m not going to say that a guy can meet a girl and just magically change. I will never say that… but, you are very special, love, with a warm heart. It’s possible that – while not completely changed – he might have genuine feelings for you.”

“So you want me to just dive head first into this thing?” you exclaimed.

“No, no,” your mother chuckled. “I’m saying don’t completely dismiss him. Keep him at arm’s length, but maybe also give him a chance to try. You might be surprised. Guard your heart, but let him show you his. If he ends up not being genuine, then you do what you do best – pick yourself up, brush it off, and hold your head high.”

You let out a long sihg, taking in every word.

She had a point. She had several points, actually. And – at a base level, at least – she was basically telling you to do what you’d already decided on.

Okay, so the whole you kind of overdoing it and making him feel trapped in a committed relationship until he ran for the hills thing didn’t exactly line up with what your mother was saying, but still. She was telling you to let him try. So, you would. But there was no way in hell Kendall was to find out about this. At all. Even if you tried to explain that you weren’t really seeing Tao like that, she’d explode. Her feelings were hurt easily whether she pretended to be over something or not and in the long run, you’d rather have your friend than a boyfriend who’d just leave anyway.

As you slipped off the stool and gave your mother a hug, your mind was swirling in every direction. For now, you decided it was best to not dwell on it in your current sickly state. Trudging back to the living room to maybe try and go back to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about how sweet Tao had been towards you. Being babied and fussed over was something you hated and yet, you let him do exactly that. And you kind of liked it. Even now, the thought of him holding you while you drifted off to sleep was making your cheeks warm.

You were absolutely losing it.

You were not the least bit surprised when you walked into the lab and saw Tao’s name scribbled in for your entire session for the day. What did surprise you, however, was the fact that he was early, already sitting at the table, book cracked open and eyes scanning the page. Or at least, he was making it look like he was reading the book. You couldn’t be too entirely sure whether he was really studying or not.

Whoa. You took a metaphorical step back. Was that too harsh? Thinking that he most likely was just pretending to be looking over the textbook instead of actually reading it? Did you already have that bad of an impression of him?

To be honest, Tao didn’t seem as lost as the other students you’d helped in the past. From what you experienced during your last session, after you explained it once at a slower pace than the teacher normally would, he seemed to understand and you moved on to the next section. Was he-

Shaking your head, you started towards the table. Whatever. He could do what he wanted. You got a small check from it anyway.

“Are you feeling better?” Tao asked in a warm voice as you sat down next to him.

You nodded, keeping your eyes down as you pulled the textbook closer to you. “Yeah, much better.”

“Good.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you fought against the urge to smile. Tao’s voice conveyed a relief at your acknowledgement of getting over whatever ailment you had as if you’d just gone through a major surgery without any hiccups. It was just the flu. And he was the one who ditched you while you were sleeping.

“Why did you leave without waking me up?” you snapped, a little more forceful than you’d anticipated it being. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t say goodbye… not at all! It definitely wasn’t something you found yourself stewing over throughout the weekend.

Indifferent, (y/n). You’re supposed to be indifferent.

“I didn’t think that’d be the best way for me to meet your mom,” Tao smirked.

You let out a fake laugh. “Are you insinuating that at some point you’ll be meeting my parents?”

He shrugged. “It’s bound to happen at some point, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. He would never get that far. Right? “Okay, homework time.”

“That’s right,” Tao shifted his chair so he was angled more towards you, “you’re stuck with me for the next three hours.”

A triumphant smile flashed across your face. “Actually, our session’s being cut in half today. I have to leave before three.”

Tao’s face fell, a strangely cute pout forming on his lips. “What? Why?”

“Since I was sick last Friday, I’m picking up a few extra hours at the shelter,” you explained. When he huffed at the statement, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ve already signed up for my entire slot on Friday.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “Wait. What?”

Chuckling, Tao leaned in close to you. “Gonna miss me if I decide to skip?”

With a single index finger against his forehead, you pushed Tao back until he was out of your bubble again. “No, not really. In fact, I think it’ll be kind of nice.”

Grumbling under his breath, Tao turned to the textbook and started reading aloud. You pressed your lips together tightly to keep from laughing. This constant push-pull, rile each other up contest going on between the two of you was becoming a little too much fun. Tao’s reactions to your rejects and dodges were the best entertainment you’d come across in a long while.

For the next hour and a half, the focus remained on the homework that Tao was supposedly struggling with. As time went on, Tao didn’t seem to be putting in much effort into pretending he didn’t get it. In fact, at one point, you found a problem that was done so perfectly that you’d just assumed it was done wrong and ended up with an incorrect answer yourself. Tao grinned brightly, but if any sarcastic remarks were bouncing around in his head, he kept them to himself.

It was strange, how much you were actually hating the fact that the minutes clicked closer to the time you needed to leave. This was definitely a side of Tao that you enjoyed. With him being… normal, not flirty or overly caring or snarky. Just being himself.

Or what you hoped was himself.

“Tao? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Both of your heads jerked up at the intrusion, Tao’s face remaining stoic and uninterested while your own pinched in confusion.

A very tall, leggy, super-model-type girl who you vaguely recognized as one of the volleyball players was standing on the other side of the table, hand on her jetted-out hip. There seemed to be an air of superiority radiating from her, but more than likely that was you and your ill-conceived prejudices projecting it on her. For all you know, she was probably a very nice person. However, you kind of wanted her to go away.

“What do you mean, Anica?” Tao asked. His voice was lower than normal, almost growl-like. “I’m here to get a better understanding of my mathematics lesson.”

“Since when do you need help with math?” the volleyball player named Anica snapped back. “You aced every test last semester even after spending the entire night with me.” A feline-like smile curved up one of the corners of her lips as she leaned in extra close to Tao as if you were completely invisible. “Speaking of which, I kind of miss those nights. And it’s not volleyball season anymore, so I’m free any time.”

Tao seemed completely unfazed. “Not interested.”

Anica straightened up with a huff. Her eyes zeroed in on the lack of space between you and Tao. “So, what? You’re sinking this low now? Whatever.” She turned her icy stare towards you. “Have fun screwing Tao. Just don’t expect much once he drops you. Poor thing gets bored very easily.”

Tao’s chair nearly flung across the room as he jumped up to his feet, a strange growl rumbling in his chest. Anica blinked, a little bit of fear in her eyes, but not as much as you conveyed. You wouldn’t even had thought it possible for Tao to explode like that. While her words certainly cut deep, there was no faliable reason for Tao react in this way. Anica rolled her eyes before walking away.

You wasted no time gathering up your notebook and papers, shoving them into your bag and rising to your own feet. You didn’t want to be here anymore. Not even looking at Tao, you started for the door.

“(y/n), wait!”

Tao caught up to you, blocking your way to freedom from this embarrassing scene. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other students sneaking glances at the piece of entertainment happening in their vicinity.

“Move,” you ordered through clenched teeth. “I have to get to the shelter. I’m going to be late.”

“Listen to me first-”

But you had no intentions of listening to whatever nonsense he was about to spout out. You managed to squeeze through the space between Tao and the door frame, out into the hallway where you were practically running across the tile.

Tao didn’t catch up to you until you jumped into your car, roaring the engine to life. He slapped his hand against the window, calling out your name repeatedly. He just wouldn’t give up, would he?

You sped off, tires squealing and vehicle vibrating as you headed out of the parking lot, probably cutting off a few other motorists who really had the right-of-way. When you reached the shelter, you killed the engine and fell back into your seat, releasing all the tension that you’d been storing in your muscles with a heavy sigh. What Anica said really shouldn’t be bothering you like this. But it just made the whole ordeal with Tao even more confusing.

Why had he honed in on you? You weren’t anything like any of the girls he’d supposedly been with in the past. Hell, you weren’t even like Kendall. So why did he target you? If this was really some game, then you just wanted him to stop. You wanted him to go away. Because keeping him at arm’s length, staying guarded and not giving in trusting him completely was becoming too hard.

You just didn’t know how to handle something like this. You weren’t equipped with the tools to navigate this sort of board game; you were hardly good at checkers and so far this felt like the world championship of chess that you were just thrown into as a last minute replacement. All the pieces were in Tao’s hands and you had no idea what your next move should be. Running away seemed like your only option. Being done with the whole seemed to be the only way to save yourself.

Letting out another sigh, you took the keys out of the ignition and willed yourself to out of the car.

“So, are you ready to listen now?”

“Shit!” You jumped at the sound of Tao’s voice coming from behind you.

He was leaning against the hood of a red convertible that definitely didn’t belong to any of the employees inside the shelter. Why were you not surprised at his car of choice?

Out of pure instinct, you looked around the parking lot, knowing full well where he came from, but still stunned at his presence. “Did you seriously follow me all the way here?”

“Yes,” Tao stated before pushing off the hood and stalking up to you. “Because you need to know that Anica is full of crap. Did we hook up once or twice? Yes, but that has nothing to do with us now.”

“Us?” you scoffed. “Tao, there is no us. I was tutoring you in math, but you obviously don’t need the help. If you keep insisting that you need help, then I know several other tutors in the math lab that have open slots.” Not wanting to hear any sort of response, you turned on the balls of your feet and headed for the entrance. But Tao stopped you with a hand around your upper arm, whirling you back around.

“Whatever happened to giving me a chance to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”

Teeth clenched and fists balled at your side, you snapped, “I’m done playing whatever kind of game you have going on, whatever fake intentions you have. There are plenty of other women on campus who will gladly take you back, go to one of them!”

“I’m not playing a game! My intentions are sincere!” But even at his own insistence, he let you go, telling you that maybe he wasn’t as in this as he was expressing in the moment. Until he passed you and walked right up to the shelter’s front doors.

Now it was your turn to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing?”

He smirked at you, leaning in close with his gaze steadily on yours. “Proving it.”

And then he just swung the door open and marched right on in. At least he waited for you in the hallway instead of waltzing in to a random classroom. He stayed close on your heels, not letting you get too far away. Fine. There wasn’t too much you could do about the situation, anyway.

When you walked into the room with Mrs. Choi and your favorite kids, you waited for the possible fallout of your unannounced visitor. Mrs. Choi was picky about the volunteers who worked in the shelter. She wanted to make sure they’d be good influences on the kids, leading them down productive paths and bettering themselves outside of their circumstances.

“Well, I don’t believe it,” Mrs. Choi gasped.

You cringed. “Mrs. Choi, I am so sorry-”

But she walked right on past you to Tao, throwing her arms around him and rocking him back and forth happily.

“Tao, you’ve grown up so much!” she chuckled. Pulling back, she kept her hands on his shoulders, staring up at him with pride-filled eyes. “Why haven’t you come to visit sooner?”

You stared at the two of them slack-jawed. This was so not happening right now.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged shyly. “I went traveling for a bit, came back to finish school.”

“Well, at least you’ve finally came to say hi.” Mrs. Choi turned to you. “Do the two of you know each other?”

“(y/n)’s been helping me with homework,” Tao loosely explained.

Mrs. Choi was smiling more than you’d ever seen her do so before. “Oh, how nice! You are welcome to stay as long as you want. None of these kids were here when you last came by, but feel free to introduce yourself. And don’t be a stranger!” She looked to you. “(y/n), the kids are working on their multiplication tables if you want to go around and check their work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mumbled, walking off in a daze. Tao followed you and the children seemed to light up at the new potential. They were fascinated by the blonde stranger who would crouch down to their level and genuinely listen to them as they rattled on their cute stories.

At one point, you were so engrossed in trying to explain how to find the multiples of nine on their fingers to a table of very excited and talkative children that you didn’t notice at first when Tao had walked away. It wasn’t until Tony kept looking over your shoulder at something that you noticed the absence.

Following Tony’s gaze, you gasped quietly. Tao was off in the corner of the room, slowly walking up to Daeyoung. You watched with anxiety-ridden nerves as he approached the boy, crouching down and waving.

Daeyoung ignored him at first, keeping his focus on the crayon on his hand as he drew random shapes on the construction paper. Instead of forcing a conversation, however, Tao simply picked up another crayon and started drawing on his own piece of paper. A few minutes went by of just the two of them coloring in their own separate worlds until Daeyoung picked up a pink crayon and handed it to Tao without a word. Tao thanked him and went on coloring.

Then Daeyoung pointed towards the door that lead to the playground outside. No one else was out there since recess time was long over and it would be another hour or so before free time started. Taking Daeyoung’s hand, Tao led him through the door. You jumped up and ran after them. Daeyoung was a delicate child and you were worried that he might go into one of his fits if Tao wasn’t careful. But as you leaned against the door frame, you stared in awe as Tao simply helped Daeyoung onto the swing and gently pushed from behind.

Fifteen or twenty minutes went by with you just standing there, watching the two of them play on the swing, Daeyoung even letting out a few giggles that you hadn’t heard before.

Mrs. Choi came up behind you and whispered, “He was always good with the kids who had special needs.” At your questioning look, she explained, “He used to volunteer here several years ago, when he was in high school. I think his older brothers wanted him to stay out of trouble. But I don’t think that boy could really get into anything bad. He’s too soft. His heart is too warm. He was always a little guarded, but it's nice to see him smile like that.”

“He has a nice smile,” you admitted a little shamefully.

“He’s a nice boy.”

There was no missing Mrs. Choi’s indication behind her words, but she walked away before you could reply. Perhaps… well, maybe she had a point. Seeing this side of Tao was throwing you off. When he declared that he’d prove to you that he wasn’t simply the playboy the rumors made him out to be, you didn’t think he’d actually succeed in doing it. And yet, here he was, showing you another side that you were finding attractive. Very attractive, indeed.

At the end of your shift at the shelter, you were still a little speechless at Tao’s ability to connect with Daeyoung so quickly, so easily. You hadn’t said a word to him when they came back inside just before free time, but he’d certainly caught you staring when he helped Daeyoung eat his dinner.

Outside, Tao stopped you before you could reach your car.

“Still think I’m a bad guy?”

You huffed, biting down on the inside of your cheek so harshly you were sure you’d draw blood. But you didn’t want to smile like the giggly school girl that was bouncing around in your mind at the moment. “I never used the words ‘bad guy’.” You kept your gaze down on your keys that you were fiddling with in your hands. “But that was really sweet how you spent time with Daeyoung.”

“He’s a good kid,” Tao smiled. “Smart, too. You just have to know how to communicate in their way.”

“Mrs. Choi said you’ve had a lot of practice with that.”

“Just a little.”

A silence fell between you two. What was supposed to happen now? You kind of wanted to get in your car so you could have room to breathe again, but you also wanted to stay right there with Tao.

Actually, you didn’t want to just stay there. You kind of wanted to hug him, placing your head against his chest again. He was melting you right there on the asphalt without even trying. But you fought the urge, surprising yourself at not giving in.

“(y/n)?”

You looked up at Tao. “Yes?”

With a hesitant hand, he reached up, the very tips of his thumb and fingers barely brushing against your cheek. His face lowered, coming closer to yours. Was he actually going to kiss you?

In a panic, you dropped your keys, quickly bending down to get them and dodging the possible lip-lock. Disappoint was evident all over his face, but he didn’t push or try again. No matter how sweet he’d been over the last few hours, you weren’t ready for that little step.

“I’ll see you later,” Tao sighed as he took a step back. “Drive safe.”

You nodded. “You, too.”

Shaking his head, Tao walked away and hopped over the door into the driver’s seat. Admittedly, that move kind of made your heart jump, but you were able to recover as he drove away.

It was time to be honest with yourself. You were falling for this boy. All it took was a few sweet moments and you were doomed. He was more determined than you’d previously thought. At this point, you didn’t think he’d run away as easily as you’d planned. And, staying on that honest train, you didn’t want him to run away. You wanted him to run towards you, only you.

Yeah, you were in trouble big time.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #tao x reader #huang zitao #z.tao #tao #exo series #exo supernatural au #Innocent Intentions #untamed wolf universe

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echoghost1 · 5 years ago

Text

DannyMay 2020 Day 15 - Fav AU

So this is inspired by the Role Swap AU by Phangirl96 and Anthropwashere. Hopefully, I did this AU some justice, despite being 6 years late to the party lol

You can read it here

or down below the cut

Axion labs had been spending the better part of a week going through the heaps of inventions they had gotten on loan from the Government which had been originally invented by the now-defunct FentonWorks.

Most of the pile had been ignored just by their sheer ridiculous nature. Why a ghost toaster? And the Weasel looked like a souped-up leaf blower. Although the information on the thermos sounded promising.

Valerie currently held the collapsible fishing pole in her hands. It seemed ordinary enough, despite the unbreakable fishing line. She shrugged and figured it was harmless.

"Hey sweetheart," her father greeted happily as he made his way into the lab, "whatcha looking at?"

She showed off the pole, "what do you think they were gonna do with this one?"

"Fish for ghosts?"

"More like fish for ghost fish." Valerie joked but couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if the GIW hadn't closed down FentonWorks so early after she got her powers.

"Wanna give it a whirl?" Her dad asked with a playful grin, "I mean we've gotta test it anyway."

After about 15 minutes of staring into the swirling green void of the Ghost Portal and getting nothing her dad sighed. "Well, this is a bust. I better mark it-" he stopped and looked around, "oh darn I left the clipboard on my desk. I'll be right back sweetheart." He quickly handed her the pole and darted off.

"Wait Daddy what am I supposed to do with this? Do I reel it in or-" she felt a shudder run through her and felt a violent tug on the fishing line. "oh no."

Before she could react, a dragon, an honest to god dragon, walked out of the portal with the fishing line between its razor-sharp teeth.

"I want to go!" It roared dropping the hook on Valerie's head just barely missing her hair.

"Go where?" She dropped the fishing pole and held up her hands trying to calm the beast.

"I have to go!" It roared again and swung its tail knocking Valerie off her feet.

"Hey, there's no need for all that!" Valerie shifted into her Wraith form and floated up, "can't we just talk for a minute?"

The dragon roared again and Valerie wondered how her Dad had not heard any of this. Either way, she knew she didn't have much time so she put her inhibitions aside and wrestled the angry dragon to the ground. Luckily it didn't take too long and the dragon changed back into a girl in a medieval dress.

"I just wanted to go to the ball," the ghost lamented, "but my horrid mommy won't let me!" She wailed before diving back into the portal.

Valerie changed back to normal and let gravity take hold just as her dad finally made it back into the lab.

"Sorry that took so long. I got to talking to-" he stopped dead noticing how still she was in the center of the lab, "what happened?"

Valerie spun on a dime and plastered on her biggest good girl grin, "Nothing Daddy, everything's fine!" She scooped up her bag that had somehow gotten on the floor. "I should really go home and study. Good luck with your report!" She gave her dad a quick peck on the cheek and made her way out of the lab before he could protest.

***************************************************************************

The whole school was abuzz with hype for the upcoming school dance. Valerie was pretty excited with it being her first high school dance after all. She was looking forward to the dress shopping trip with her friends later that week, but she still didn't have a date. Sure she could always go with Kwan as long as he was still free, but she didn't really want to go as someone else's stand-in.

During lunch, she, along with the rest of the student body, watched the awkward exchange between Fenton and Paulina. He somehow lost his balance standing still and stammered his way through his introduction that only got him laughed at. It was bad enough to give her second-hand embarrassment.

Sure Fenton was a bit of a dweeb, but he didn't deserve that. Plus with his family having to move to Elmerton after all the ghost stuff started, she sort of felt responsible.

"Hey Danny." Valerie greeted cautiously.

"Oh, hi Valerie." He looked around confused, "what's up?"

"I," she hesitated just now noticing how cute he was. "Was just wondering if you had plans for the dance."

His shoulders slumped, "Haven't you heard? I had the audacity to ask Paulina." He slammed his locker angrily but then recoiled, as if the noise scared him.

"So no backup plans?"

He turned to face her and shook his head. "No, and now I'm probably just going to stay home."

"Or you could go with me?"

He perked up at that, "really?" Then he squinted at her in suspicion, "this isn't some elaborate prank is it?"

"What? Of course not! I would never!" She stammered out and felt her bag pass through her now intangible shoulder spilling its contents between them.

They both dropped down to gather her things and they had a brief moment where they reached for the same book and their fingers touched.

Still embarrassed from dropping her things she grabbed the last book and ran off before she said or did anything else.

***************************************************************************

Had Valerie really asked him out? Danny stood in the hallway and watched her run off, his head still reeling.

Maybe his luck was turning around after all. He looked down and saw a gold necklace with a bright green gem. "Did that fall out of Val's bag too?" He picked it up and wondered if he had ever seen her wear it before.

"Hey Fenta-relli." Sneered Dash as he roughly pushed past Danny. "Whatcha got there?"

"I, uh, it's not mine." Danny stammered suddenly feeling like he was a thief caught red-handed.

"Oh no, I think it is! Why don't ya show us?" Dash teased as he pinned Danny against the lockers. "Put it on."

"No. It's not mine. I need to return it." Danny tried to wiggle free but it was no use.

The quarterback snatched the necklace and easily closed the clasp around Danny's slender neck. "And don't you dare take it off until school's over." Dash gave him one final shove and laughed as he headed off to class.

Danny waited until the jocks were gone before he tried to reach for the clasp. If he wasn't allowed to take it off yet he could at least loosen it, right? His fingers passed over the cool metal but he couldn't find the seam.

Great, he really couldn't take it off.

***************************************************************************

The week went by in a blur and Valerie was beyond excited for the dance, but hadn't actually told anyone who she was going with.

She had a feeling the other A-listers might tease her for her choice, or call it a charity case, but she was more worried about the boys picking on Danny.

Speaking of Danny, he was sitting alone on the front steps. She almost didn't recognize him in that turtle neck.

"Hey there." Valerie greeted him with a smile which quickly fell once she really got a good look at him. "You okay?"

"I got in a fight with my friends. Or I guess I should say I yelled at them until they went away."

"What happened?"

"That's the thing! I don't know! I've been so angry lately and I'm lashing out at everyone. And I just want this stupid thing to get off of me!"

During that last outburst, it looked like Danny's eyes were green and glowing. But that didn't make sense, she was very sure his eyes were blue.

"That's right! The necklace!" He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal the golden chain and emerald jewel, "Look it fell out of your bag the other day and Dash made me wear it but I think he broke it because I can't get it off. Can you fix it?" Danny looked up at her pleading, desperate.

His eyes turned green again, the pupils slit like a cat, no, reptilian.

Valerie hesitated because something supernatural was definitely going on, but quickly recovered. "Yeah, of course, let me take a look."

He let out a sigh of relief and leaned forward so she would have better access.

She ran her fingers across the chain and was surprised to see how seamless it was. Too seamless. "Uh, where was the clasp again?"

"It should be in the middle, I think."

"Danny, I don't see it. Or feel it. I don't know how we're gonna get this off."

"Can't... get it... off?" Danny quietly muttered, "I need it off."

She watched his shoulders tense as his breathing got more ragged.

"Need it off." Danny's voice came out rugged and low, lower than she had ever heard him speak before.

Then he screamed and the next thing she knew there was a giant dragon where Danny had just been. Specifically the same ghost dragon she had fought earlier that week.

And it was wearing the same necklace Danny was. No, he was still wearing it.

"Gonna make him pay." Dragon Danny growled before leaping up into the air and flying over the school.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #phan fic #prompt Fav AU #Role Swap Au #phangirl96 #anthropwashere #I saw that Danny got the amulet in this AU and I RAN with it!

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comingofagefilm · 6 years ago

Text

Kindness | Wong Yukhei/Lucas

Synopsis: this one’s about being friends with a boy whose heart is bigger than his appetite (sometimes)

Genre(s): angst, coming-of-age, friendship, highschool au, college au

Warnings: uhh some minor swearing, brief mention of counselling + a cheesy ending.

♡ Author’s Notes: honestly, this is an apology letter to my friend back in 2018. I wrote this during that time of conflict and am only publishing it a year later oop

PRESENT

You’re watching Lucas with such fondness in your eyes; there is also amusement but that’s because everything is amusing when it comes to Lucas. The boy is loud and big in everything he does and right now his big mouth has moved from the pantry to inhaling the contents of your fridge.

“Hey, don’t you have a date tonight?” You ask Lucas, watching as he rips open a box of oreos.

Lucas nods his head vehemently in response, grinning all the while he stuffs an oreo into his mouth.

“Then why are you eating now?” You deadpan.

“I don’t know man,” Lucas mumbles in between bites. “You know I get hungry when I’m nervous.”

It’s true, you snort. Lucas was all words and false bravado but when it came to actually following through with his flirtations, he became more or less a nervous wreck.

“Well it is always fun to see you nervous around cute girls”. You make your way to your couch pretending like you didn’t see Lucas pout at you before shoving another two oreos into his mouth.

“Ooh, can I eat this ice-cream?” Lucas asks even though he’s already opening the lid of the ice-cream tub.

“Yeah but don’t eat all of it again or else my sister’s going to kick my ass,” you mutter with some distaste. Your warning is met with obnoxious laughter.

“Your sister loves me,” he proclaims and you can’t help but agree. Your little sister absolutely adores Lucas as much as you do but you don’t say anything. Instead, you peer over your shoulder at Lucas, who you see has taken the liberty of using a soup ladle as a spoon, and smirk at his childishness.

“Wow, you’re such an idiot,” you say in a tone laced with nothing but endearment.

“Oh come on man, you love me!” Lucas grins. As he leaps over the couch, his foot nearly knocks you square in the jaw.

“Ugh,” you groan, shoving his foot out of the way, “how is it summer already?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he replies, grinning widely.

You snort; as if having to attend compulsory night classes in your final week was considered fun.

“Take that back,” you say half-heartedly. Lucas just giggles at your demise. He’s already finished with his classes and only has one exam to prepare for while you‘re suffering through classes and assignments that you probably shouldn’t have put off until now.

“Why was everything much easier back when we were kids?” You ask, a bit dramatically.

Lucas gulps down a spoonful of ice-cream and wags his soup ladle around in what you assumed was disagreement. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Care to elaborate?”

Lucas looks at you with a playful gleam in his eye that makes you sit up straighter.

“Well, do you remember when it took you until halfway through fourth grade to invite me to play with you?”

You glare at him dead in the eye, fully aware of this conversation’s direction, and mutter your next few words with a little bit more bitterness than intended.

“Oh please, you were the one with that group of kids, remember? The ones who hated my group for ‘taking you away from them’ — like they weren’t the ones who brought this upon themselves for talking shit behind your back.” You pause to exhale loudly through your nose and somewhat recollect yourself. Thinking about the past just made you automatically defensive for some reason (oh you knew the reasons), even though it had been over a decade since the incident happened.

“You have to admit though, we had the absolute cliché kind of mean kids at our school.”

Lucas’ face suddenly changes into a sombre expression and you wonder if you went too far by bringing up the past.

“Yeah, elementary school was a nightmare,” he says grimly as he stares off into the distance.

Then he’s turning his head back towards you with a goofy smile and you consider throwing a cushion at him when he breaks into his comically high-pitched, wheezy laughter.

It was easier to make friends back in elementary school. But for Lucas, well, it was super easy to the point where it was laughable.

Lucas was always big in everything he did and so with his big heart and even bigger personality, it was nearly close to impossible for anyone not to find him endearing. Not to say that you weren’t friendly; you were just very selective of who you wanted to share your precious recesses and lunchtimes with. Unfortunately, this also meant that you sometimes ignored other children who were interested in playing with you. And Lucas was right; it wasn’t until halfway through the year when you and your friends agreed that he should join your group effective-immediately.

It just so happened that you were quite the observant student. Although teachers would say that your class participation and grades were average, you were always complimented on your keen observation skills.

“Always looks out for others” was a sentence you often heard throughout your childhood years and it didn’t mean much to you then because that’s what you thought everybody else did. That is, until you were proven wrong by a group of gossipy 10-year-olds.

A few weeks back, you overheard these boys talking about Lucas and didn’t like what they were saying about him. Afterwards, you found out that these gossipy 10-year-olds turned out to be Lucas’ so-called friends and so, being the one to “always looks out for others”, as your teachers would say, you took matters into your own hands. His family life was, after all, his own personal business. You weren’t just about to let these kids believe that they were better than Lucas and therefore could say mean things about him just because they had two parents and he no longer did.

It was during English class when one of the notes you passed to your friends slid down to the very end of your row where Lucas sat. “Do you want to play with us at lunch?” The note had read in half-cursive, half-print handwriting. Lucas had turned to look at your group, who were all leaning over their desks and eagerly awaiting his answer, and then back at the note. He gave a quick thumbs up as he mouthed a “hell yeah!” and with that simple exchange, the beautiful friendship between you two had begun.

When Lucas’ voice first cracked, you could hardly hold in your laughter. It happened when you were on the way to school. Lucas had offered you oreos when you told him that you only had a banana for breakfast and you scoffed at him before pointing out that oreos were not a staple breakfast food.

“Don’t worry man” became one of Lucas’ favourite things to say and when he said it to you this time around, his voice cracked. You had stopped in your tracks, not believing what you had just heard, and burst into laughter. Lucas had started whining for you to stop but his voice cracked again, and you laughed even harder. He tried crossing his arms to make himself look sterner, but the corners of his lips had already begun quirking upwards and next thing you knew you were both laughing wildly on the footpath.

During your time in high school, Lucas was considered odd but charming by majority of the school, staff included. Sometimes his ability to be amused or distracted by the smallest things was questionable and it had gained him the nickname ‘One Brain Cell’ from Jungwoo two year-levels ahead. Of course, Lucas had embraced this nickname, like many other things in his life, with bright eyes and an unshakeable grin.

Voice-cracking aside, Lucas did undergo more obvious physical changes. You fully noticed this over the summer before your last year of high school when he surpassed many other boys in both height and build. You found it odd, but unsurprising, that Lucas had garnered a reputation for himself as a ‘playboy’. The boy did love attention and by now you were well acquainted with his flirtatious behaviour. But when this school year came around, the number of students who observed his every move had surprised even you.

There were rumours that followed you into every class; some of which, left you wondering why people had so much free time. It felt like you were kids again but instead of the kids gossiping about Lucas’ recently divorced parents, these students were spreading rumours that were exaggerated to the point of ridiculousness and convincing themselves that at least SOME part of it was true.

It didn’t occur to you that Lucas didn’t need protecting.

Lucas, being — well, Lucas, just wanted to breeze through high school without worrying about what other people thought he did during his spare time. To you, his patience was admirable; his obliviousness, not so much.

Jungwoo, who always seemed to witness Lucas’ most eccentric moments, once asked you if Lucas really was a player; if he really did sleep with those college girls and broke the hearts of the younger ones.

Look at him, you said and gestured towards Lucas. Lucas was busy giggling behind a slightly terrified Mark, waiting to scare underclassman, Chenle, from behind a classroom door. He just wants to be loved, you told Jungwoo. Jungwoo rolled his eyes at you but his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile.

Before you knew it, the younger boy let out a high-pitched screech that you swear you could still hear ringing in your ears even now.

Although you hate to admit it, Lucas tended to be right about a lot of things while you were growing up. So when he told you that you were too nice for your own good, you shoved your books into your locker way harder than necessary.

“Is this about those boys I reported? Because they had it coming.” You scoffed while Lucas’ hand went to the back of his neck.

He rubbed the spot anxiously. “It wasn’t a big deal,” Lucas had said. At this, you gritted your teeth and made a few hand movements that you hoped conveyed some sort of message that said no, it wasn’t right at all. Lucas shrugged as if he had mentally heard your message.

“You’re always looking out for others but sometimes I’m afraid that you’re not looking after yourself,” he added quietly. This gave you pause. Lucas was hardly ever quiet, nor was he the type to openly admit that he was afraid of anything. If he was afraid, he would’ve masked it with humour or even something slightly self-deprecating. This was different and your face softened when you met his slightly worried eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. But when you went home that night, you couldn’t fall asleep as Lucas’ words replayed in your head.

Maybe you were too nice for your own good.

You lifted the blanket over your head and curled into yourself all the while the words “nice”, “gentle” and “kind” morphed into something darker in your mind, something more self-sacrificial. Did it become an obligation for you to be compassionate towards others? Or was it always that way? You felt like a fraud and that everything you had done for other people in the past was to soothe your own twisted ego.

The pain of having these thoughts taking over your mind and your body made you want to cry so badly. At this point, you knew that you needed an explanation or validation of some sort from somebody that you trusted. And you loathed yourself for it.

It took whatever little energy you had left to push the blanket down enough for you to reach out to your phone and message Lucas. None of your friends really had the best sleeping patterns and this was one of those times you were glad that Lucas was awake at this ungodly time.

[2:18AM] dude it’s 2am and i’m having an identity crisis… did you really mean what you said about me being a people-pleaser?

You had messaged Lucas in a private chat where he replied a few minutes later.

[2:18AM] Lucas: uhh ye. u love people and people love u. u have a good heart man. y r u up?

But?

Lucas: But I can look after myself sometimes ya know?

I know… I just really hate it when people are assholes for no reason. Like, why do they have to be like that? And to someone they don’t even know as well.

Lucas: Hahaha. People can be assholes sometimes but life goes on, even after high school.

I know.

Lucas: Do you??

You stared at your phone incredulously. There he was again, implying that you were too worried about the opinions of others.

Hey just because I like to see the good in people doesn’t mean that I am THAT naïve. Like I told you before, those guys deserved what they got. I was saving you a semester of being the main topic of their gossipy asses.

Lucas: Uhh

Okay that came out worse than I expected. I can see that now. I’m sorry. Fuck. What’s wrong with me!?

Lucas: No one’s telling you to let go of your bubbly personality.

I was never bubbly, you take that back.

Lucas: You know what I mean. Anyway, it’s not bad that you believe that there’s still good in the world. It’s just – well it’s just a part of who you are man.

Can I tell you something? It’s going to be really childish and maybe it is naïve of me to still be thinking this way but I think I’m going to type it out anyway because I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t haha.

Lucas: Dude of course. Go ahead.

Okay so I sort of had an epiphany before. First, I thought about all those losers that have made your life harder. Now I know you say that it’s okay and that it doesn’t affect you but I just want you to know that it affects me a lot. And I know that you’re probably sick of me trying to protect you all the time too… I don’t know why I always do it but I feel like I’m just dumping whatever issues I have onto you and that’s definitely not fair. Lucas, honestly, you always seem to look like nothing affects you from the outside. I know it does though. But it just messes me up that I get defensive all the fucking time. I hate how not everyone is kind, that not everyone has other people’s best interests at heart. I hate how the actions between other people affect me so much even though it’s not about me. But then I thought about it for longer and realised that, well, all these thoughts are a part of growing up right? Soon I’ll learn that I can’t help everyone and that not everything is about me. But it’s just so hard sometimes. I hope this make some sense…

It’s hard for you to express your concerns. Lucas knew this, didn’t comment on it then, and only read patiently as you continued to open up.

Your hands were shaking as you were about to type out the next few words for the very first time.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is that I think I need to go to the school counsellor or something because I’m literally about to explode.

You shut your eyes tightly in fear of what response you would get. But when you opened them again, Lucas had sent you a small paragraph of his own.

Lucas: Hey, I feel so stupid for not knowing that you probably felt that way. I’m sorry but you know how spacey I am sometimes. But it’s not your fault. I guess I’m just not used to accepting or even responding to people’s concerns towards me, even when they mean well. But uhh… my therapist is helping me with that. Yeah I have one of those. If you want, I can help you call the place that I go to IF you’re not comfortable with going to the school one? And like you said, you’re always looking out for me and I really do appreciate it but just know that I always have your back too.

There was a brief silence, tersely broken by Lucas.

Lucas: Uhh, where’d you go? Hello? So this is what happens when I express myself.

You had to pause and swipe away at your eyes before you could type back.

Wait a second, I’m crying.

Lucas: Oh… :(

Sorry that I suggested that you were a robot with no feelings.

Lucas: Look, I love you and I trust you. I knew that you were going to be there for me back then when I needed someone to talk to but I also knew, and my dad knew, that I also needed professional help. Back then I was even more closed up than I am now.

Back then? How long have you been going?

Lucas: Since we first became friends.

Oh crap. Alright, I need you to knock me out when I start acting like a therapist instead of your friend okay?

Lucas: Don’t worry, you’re not my therapist. My therapist is actually double your age and a lot taller. In fact she’s almost as tall as me and I haven’t told her yet, even though I’m meant to tell her everything, but her tallness makes me feel like I’m losing my individuality because I’m so used to always being the tallest person in the room… like always.

I’m serious, Lucas. I don’t ever want to be your therapist. :(

Lucas: It’s like… without my height… who am I?

It was just like Lucas to make any situation more funnier than it actually was and you tried your best not to grin at your phone with tears streaming down your face.

Shut up I’m serious.

Lucas: So you don’t think I should wear high-heels to assert my dominance?

Lucas.

Lucas: Okay!! HAHAHA. Seriously though, I’m happy that you can trust me more. We’re practically young adults now and we can have these conversations because we’re all in this together man!!

Says the one who eats Oreos for breakfast.

Lucas: And that is my choice as a young adult.

You know you’re actually really smart, Lucas. Like that thing we learned in Psych – emotionally intelligent? Anyway, I’m glad we had this convo.

Lucas: Thanks boo. Seems like I suddenly have the energy to cram for tomorrow’s test. OMG… is this the power of friendship?

Good luck dumbass.

There was this one incident that happened not too long ago that tested Lucas’ seemingly endless amount of energy. Lucas had entered the library hoping to study with you but as soon as you saw his heavy eyebags and slumped shoulders, you told him to go to sleep to which he responded by immediately passing out on the thick textbook in front of him. Luckily, it didn’t disturb anyone else, besides you of course.

Nowadays, you keep a close eye on each other. Lucas is still the literal big mouth who clears your fridge and/or pantry every time he comes over to your house but some things are different. Now you’re using your own money instead of the money your parents would give you specifically for grocery shopping, even though you always got just breakfast food and snacks. When you got your part-time job, you started stocking up on actual food but it was hard to find the time to prepare meals in between your schedules. Usually, you didn’t like to skip meals so you usually snacked on something in between your breaks but recently you haven’t found the time to do even that.

So now you have evening classes and Lucas has a date with a cute girl he met through Mark. Lucas is eating the rest of your snacks and wondering why you’re rejecting his offer of your food. And when you let it slip that you haven’t eaten anything since 7AM, Lucas’ jaw drops in the most dramatic way that it does and you pray to god he doesn’t yell at you. But he does, in the loudest and most loving way he knows.

“WHAT IF YOUR BLOOD SUGAR GOES DOWN AND YOU FAINT BECAUSE YOU ONLY HAD HALF A BAO?” Lucas drags his fingers down his face in horror at the prospect of not being able to finish food and more importantly, of you not being able to finish your food.

You close the door behind you before turning around and fixing him a big smile. Lucas just continues to stare at you in horror and confusion.

“This isn’t something to be happy about man!!”

The fondness in your eyes return and you reach forward to ruffle his hair.

“Oh my god, don’t worry I’ll eat something else on the way to class.” You grin widely before adding in your best impersonation of him: “Don’t worry man”. Lucas sighs exasperatedly but can’t help but grin back at you.

“You better show me video proof or else you’re dead.”

“Jokes on you, I’m already dead inside.”

Now it’s Lucas’ turn to ruffle your hair and instead of feigning irritation, the gesture makes your heart swell up with tenderness; for you loved your big-hearted, big-mouthed, big-stomached friend.

#nctwriters #nct scenarios #nct fics #wong yukhei #lucas scenario #yukhei scenario #nct angst #yukhei #lucas #wayv scenarios #wayv

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duchesslablanc · 7 years ago

Note

MEOWTAINNNN

🌱- When is their birthday? Where were they born? What was the time of day?

Their first child, a beautiful little girl, is born January 25 at 6:30 am. Their second, a handsome baby boy, is born August 3 at 5:45 pm. Both are born in France.

🔠- Who named them? What does their name mean?

From thee moment of conception the group discussed names. In the end Duchess won out on naming their first child Renee Rose Khan O’Malley. Their second child, while planned, is a bit harder. They fight over his name because Duchess, being the woman that she is, has already picked out names. But Thomas and Shere both want to have their say. In the end the boys got their way and Advik Connor O’Malley Khan was chosen.

💤- Was it difficult to get them to fall asleep at night?

Both babies were particularly fussy when it came time for bed. But they could be soother. Renee often drifted off easier while listening to Duchess’ lilting French songs and Advik dosed off to stories told by any of his parents. It was safe to say both children enjoyed their parent’s voices.

🌀- Were they a social, giggly baby? Or were they a shy baby who did not like forced socialization?

Surprisingly, Renee did not like socializing. She was very shy and often stuck close to her parents. Advik on the other hand. Oh my God that boy was a flirt and a social butterfly. It was so easy for him to make friends.

🍳- What is their favorite childhood dish?

Just like her mother, Renee was very fond of coq au vin (the very same recipie Duch’s nanny made). Advik was the pickiest child and only ate freshly made tomato soup and grilled cheese.

🐻- Did they have a favorite teddy bear/stuffed animal?

Renee had a raggedy Anne doll that she toted around everywhere. Duchess mended it so many times it was ridiculous. Advik, ever the peculiar child, had a stuffed aardvark he got on a school trip to the museum. Everyone was confused by it but no one questioned it. Duchess also spent a ton of time mending it.

🏡- What kind of environment did they grow up in? Was it in a rural or farmlike home? Or did they grow up in the cities? Or were they a small town/suburban child?

Once the children were born, they all settled in Swynlake even though both children were born in France. Duchess stayed fond of the town and both Thomas and Shere wanted to stay at their places of work. It was an easy decision to stay in Swynlake where the trio had met.

👦🏻- What was preschool/kindergarten like?

A nightmare. Duchess wanted to do a private institution but it wasn’t possible so they attended a public school. It was nerve wracking and they totally went over board by being those parents who attended every single PTA meeting and every teacher conference. The kids loved it. They liked finding their little group of friends and enjoyed being able to play all day with less strict rules.

👧🏻- What was elementary/middle school like?

IT DID NOT PREPARE THEM FOR ANYTHING. Renee Rose had a boyfriend by the time third grade rolled around and Advik got into trouble for being the class clown and overly social.

👱🏻‍♀️- What was high school/college like?

High school gave everyone gray hair. Both children had come out of their shells by high school and it was just… so much. There was constantly teenagers at the house and a never ending barrage of school events. But sending them off to college was the actual worst. Duchess cried when they left, both studied abroad, wanting more than what PrideU could offer them.

🌋- How often did they get caught doing something bad?

Advik was always caught with his hand in the cookie jar. When Renee got caught she offered innocent looks that sometimes got her out of trouble. Not always, though.

🌡- Did they get sick a lot as a child? Did they ever have to go to the hospital for any reason?

There was one time when Renee was a couple of months old that she had to go to the hospital. It was the scariest moment in all of their lives. She’d gotten the flu and they couldn’t get her temperature down and she cried, oh God she wailed. In the end they spent two days in the hospital praying for their baby girl to get better.

🎀- What kinds of games/activities did they like to play?

Renee enjoyed dress up. Saturday mornings were always the days where Duchess would let the little girl into her closet and dress her up and even do her make up. Advik enjoyed playing games that required imagination. The den always had couch pillows and throw pillows on the ground to protect them from the lava or made up into a fort.

And every Friday night the whole family would build a very elaborate fortress out of pillows and linens and blow up mattresses and watch movies. The children often opted to crawl all over their parents, disrupting the movies, but none of them cared. The house was filled with laughter and that was important.

🎏- Did they have a lot of friends? Can you describe a few?

Christ almighty. Advik had so many fucking friends. There was Thomas, who liked to eat glue (or so their son said), and Charlie, who was actually a girl her parents just liked to be funny, and Lucas who could climb any tree and not be scared.

Renee had Cynthia, who liked pink just like her, and Samantha, who had two moms!, and Lucy, who wasn’t really allowed over because her parents didn’t understand how Rose could have one mom but two dads.

💢- Did they ever have a rebellious phase?

Renee got very angry once and wore nothing but black and dyed her hair outrageous colours (her parents didn’t really care but they understood they needed to act like it was #bad). And Advik, spent much of his pre-teen and teenage years acting antisocial and yelling whenever they asked him to do something.

❓- Did they ask a lot of questions when they were younger? Did they like to explore the world?

They were fairly curious kids. Being the kids of two teachers and a well traveled woman, there were plenty of trips to foreign places where they could put their curiosity to the test. Most of the time Shere and Thomas would devise little treasure hunts for them whenever they went to new cities to keep them interested and satiated in terms of knowledge.

🗯- How well did they get along with their siblings?

They got along pretty well, actually. Of course there were little spats here and there but at the end of the day they loved each other very much and was always there to defend each other.

🔷- Free question!

excuse me while I go cry

@professor-lungri, @omalleyofthealley

#pidgedarling

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dreamingcellardoor · 8 years ago

Text

Always blame the witch

For the lovely @mrasayf who asked for an arranged marriage au where A and B start of hating each other (and apparently lives in a country where Western Union doesn’t work). It took me a while to figure out an arrange marriage/royalty au set up that was different from all the other ones I have sitting on my hard drive. But I managed in the end.

One did not simply refuse the demands of witches or fairies.

Especially not ones that had recently saved your country from a drought.

For the budding monarch, it might also be wise to remember that it was equally unwise to point out how the witch looked like a water-logged kitten or how she was getting water all over your floors.

That was just asking for the sort of trouble that involved futile, national banning of integral textile production equipment that doesn't actually stop anything except exports.

The king simply nodded at the servants who were quick to bring a towel, the way he simply nodded when the witch said, "I will arrange your son's marriage prospects."

It was auspicious to have a wedding that was blessed by a witch. Some monarchs sent out hundreds of invitations and only ended up with a hedge wizard who was only good for growing humourously shaped vegetables.

King Umar was trying to explain this to his son who looked less and less impressed the longer he talked.

"No." Prince Altair of Masyaf, known by some as the Eagle Prince of Masyaf for the striking colours of his eyes (but more often known as the Royal Pain of Masyaf when people thought he couldn't hear him). "Why should I marry a woman some hag chose?"

But he was not the Eagle King of Masyaf (would not be until his father unfortunately passed away from choking to death on an olive) and "Royal Pain of Masyaf" did not actually carry with it any sort of real political power (except maybe the sort that led to break down of international trade).

So, five months later, when they received a message from the witch in the form of a twitchy toucan telling them to start the wedding preparations and have it all ready in three days there was nothing he could do except scowl and glare as everyone rushed to get everything prepared.

~ + ~

Altair did not want to get married. The sight of the filthy beggar youth that tagged along behind the witch had about as much effect as a trikle of water on a mountain.

"He is missing an arm." Altair said before his father shushed him

The youth hesitated then had to hasten his steps to catch up with the witch again. He licked his lips as the King and the prince bowed at the witch, standing there akwardly.

He said, "my wife is here?"

"Your husband, actually." Altair corrected as he straightened up and looked him up and down. The cool, blatant arrogance in the prince's face made him unattractive and piggish. Then the implication caught up to him and his eyes widened.

"Fuck." he said and the witch grinned.

~ + ~

The youth's name was Malik, and as soon as he stepped foot int he courtyard there was a group of women ready to whisk Altair's bride to be away so he could be made presentable.

"He probably has lice." Altair pointed out, seeming bored (but he was furious).

"The witch chose him. You and I have no choice in the matter."

~ + ~

At least under all the grime Malik wasn't entirely ugly, though it was hard to see past the scowl on his face. He jingled as he walked, from the numerous silver ornament sown into his elaborate clothes.

"This is women's clothing." He sounded so insulted and Altair, who was lounging at the window in his own wedding clothes only smirked at him.

"Well, we thought you'd be a bride."

Malik glared at him.

~ + ~

It was not ideal, but Malik had been ready to put up with the arrogant asshole, up until the point where Altair stepped on his foot while they danced.

Malik scowled at him. "Watch where you're stepping."

And Altair looked down at him (the prince had a few years on him as well as inches), "or you can just not put your foot where I'm going to step."

For that, Malik kicked him and was thankful for the skirt that hid the motion.

~ + ~

If Altair had been aware of the sort of petty revenge Malik was capable of he might have stepped on him harder.

During the course of the wedding reception, Malik had spilled wine on him three times ("A wife must pour the wine for the husband." he had said with a smile that was a slash of sharp white across his face that matched his sarcasm), as well as nearly stabbed his hand with a knife. It was lucky that the knife had lodged himself in the space where his ring finger was already missing.

By the time they made it back to their bedroom, it was clear that love was nowhere in sight.

They were glaring at each other even as Malik all but ripped the headpiece off.

Then Altair snorted and got ready for bed. There was no verbal agreement on the issue, but Altair settled on the bed and Malik settled himself on a pile of pillows in the corner that also happened to be the one furthest from where Altair was sleeping.

And then they slept (and both of them thought, at least he doesn't snore.)

~ + ~

Altair woke up while Malik still seemed to be sound asleep, but he rolled into sudden awakeness when Altair walked towards him, before he even got close enough to nudge him awake with the toe of his boot.

Malik stood up, his hair sleep mussed, but his eyes aware like he had only slept lightly. He frowned.

"What do you want?"

"You're expected to come down to dinner with me." He looked Malik up and down like he had every right in the world. "Should I call the servants?"

"I can dress myself." Malik snapped back.

But Malik had underestimated how complicated his new clothes were, how unecessarily covered in tiny buttons it was.

Altair had watched only as long as it had amused him to do so before he said, "I'll send someone to come help you."

(But later, during lunch, Malik had upended an entire container of spices in Altair's soup jsut for the satisfaction of watching his face pale, then flush before he choked himself on water.)

~ + ~

"Both your behaviours are disgraceful." King Umar had said after a thrown clump of horse manure had escalated into a brawl out in the courtyard.

In the aftermatgh of it, they'd both been to see the doctors before being shepherded to the King's study by guards. Altair had acted like it was an every day occurence while Malik had tried not to feel cowed.

Altair's mouth had to be stitched shut where it had been cut open when Malik knocked him into a fence hard enough to break it.

As they stood before King Umar's desk, Malik couldn't dregde up any regret for what that. He took not small satisfaction in the knowledge that he'd have trouble smirking with the wound bisecting his mouth. It was even better if he stayed perfectly still to not further agitate his bruised ribs while he celebrated this small victory. He could only hope Altair's pride was similarly bruised.

"You are not getting out of this. You need to make this work." The King waved at Malik. "I wish to speak to my son alone. You're dismissed."

Malik bowed, holding in the grimace of pain until he was out of the room.

When his footsteps faded off, King Umar glared at his son.

"Are you pleased with yourself?"

"Very." Altair said.

"If the witch finds out she will be displeased."

"Then she can marry him."

~ + ~

But despite Altair's dismissal of his father's words, he was intrigued.

His face ached whenever he moved his jaw. The nobles who had been his classmates at school would probably be equal parts pleased and humiliated to know that a boy a few years younger than them and with only one arm (and who didn't even have any noble blood in him) had done what all of them had never managed to accomplish in all five years of their schooling.

It did not mean that Altair was not also humiliated himself.

The walls vibrated with the echoes of that when he slammed the door to his room open.

Malik didn't startle, just calmly turned the page of a book he had gotten for himself before Altair got there.

The door closed with the same sort of violence it was opened with and Malik looked up, closing the book. "Do you mind?"

"This is my room." Altair said, "you are not wanted here. If this whole farce wasn't the will of the witch you'd have been punished for laying hands on me."

"What?" Malik said, "Your Highness couldn't take a hit?"

Altair tackled him because their fight had been interrupted, because Malik looked so damn smug. Because he was furious at the fact that he was stuck this way and that he had been beaten by a one armed peasant boy.

Malik yelped, but they were soon wrestling and trying to hit each other. In the heat of the moment, when Altair had him pinned, Malik bit him on the forearm hard enough to draw blood.

"You bastard!" Altair did not get off him but did sit back with a hiss.

"Actually," Malik said, "I do know who my father is. And if you wanted a fair fight you should go pick a fight with your noble friends instead of a slum rat."

Slum rat was something the nobles and even the middle class sneered about the beggars and thieves living in the allyes and streets that were where the ones who could afford nothing went off to live.

It was nothing more than the worst sort of insult but Malik, his teeth pink with blood, said it like it was a badge of honour.

Altair thought, the witch must be looking to humiliate their family and kingdom by forcing him to marry, not only a peasant, but a possible criminal as well. He stood up and only then did Malik sit up and wipe his mouth.

Malik licked his lips, grimaced at the taste of blood (and missed the way Altair stared). "Your father is wrong. This arrangement is temporary. After a year my obligation to this charade will be over."

"Why a year?"

"That is between the witch and myself." Malik leaned back on his hands and tilted his head, "I can play nice until then if you can."

Altair nearly smirked, but partway there his mouth changed into a wince. "Are we calling a truce, then?"

The answer he got was a shrug. "Call it whatever you want." He picked up the book and then gathered all the pillows within arm's reach back into his pile. "I just want to sleep."

~ + ~

They began to ignore each other after that. Altair was usually gone by the time Malik woke up and Malik made it a practise to not return until after Altair had gone to sleep.

But Altair knew Malik did not sleep right away, because in the nights when he thought no one could hear, he'd crack open a book and quielty sound his way through the pages (he'd guess the words he didn't know and Altair always fell asleep before he could decide if he wanted to bother to correct him). And Malik knew Altair sometimes tossed and turned at night, as if he were having a nightmare (and Malik turned onto his side and told himself he didn't care what a spoiled princeling dreamed of).

~ + ~

The kitchen began to complain about missing silverware, mostly knives. Altair, being prince, was notified of the issue and how no one could find the culprit.

Altair found their thief at the back of the stables, hurling cutlery at a tree.

"It's not as if you can't afford to buy more." Malik said as he walked over the pull the knives out of the bark. The holes were mostly collected in the same fist-sized area with only a few landing outside of it.

They didn't speak, but Altair stayed until Malik turned and threw the knife at him. It flew over his shoulder and buried itself in the wood wall of the stable with a solid thunk. "What are you staring at?"

Swordsmanship was something expected of the prince, but he was kept away from other forms of combat. Knife throwing was considered dishonourable. Something more fitting for an assassin than a prince.

So he said, "teach me how to do that."

Malik's brow went up as Altair turned around and pulled the knife back out. He walked it back to Malik and held the handle out to him. He hesitated to take it but then grabbed it.

"I'm not going to coddle you. If you can't stand the thought of being yelled at then you should leave."

But Altair didn't leave. Even when Malik insulted the way he couldn't seem to hold his wrist right, even when his arm ached from the unfamilalir movements he still stayed until the sun was nearly setting.

It was Malik who finally said, "let's call it a day. It's time for dinner."

~ + ~

Altair thought about offering to teach Malik to read, but there was a realization he came to between getting into bed and falling asleep, that said if Malik had wanted his help he would have asked for it already.

~ + ~

They were married during an oddly warm autumn that led into a bitingly cold winter.

"We could find you another room where you won't need to sleep on the floor."

Whatever deal he had made with the witch must have prevented him from accepting because Malik rolled his eyes and said, "I can handle a bit of cold. Not all of us are used to sleeping in beds with think blankets."

But the palace was high up in the mountains where the cold seeped into your bones and the first night the temperatures dropped to winter conditions, Malik was shivering from his spot on the floor. Altair could hear his teeth chatter, and he sat up.

"Malik."

"What?" He glared at Altair. "I'm trying to sleep."

Altair lifted the blanket in invitation, shivered at the cold and waited patiently as Malik stared. Pride battled against the temptation of warmth Altair offered and eventually lost.

Malik's body slipped under the blanket like a cold breeze. He kept his distance from Altair. Right before he fell asleep he said, "thank you."

~ + ~

The next night, Malik had the servants bring up a pile of furs. "I told them I was restless before I slept and did not want to bother your sleep." Was his explanation when he caught Altair frowning at him. "Our sleeping arrangement remains between us."

That was good because if his father ever realized they slept separately he'd never hear the end of it. (All the same, he couldn't help but be disappointed.)

~ + ~

They only shared a bed once more that year, weeks later when Altair had been caught in the grips of a nightmare (of drowning. Always it was the water closing in, filling his mouth and lungs until there was no room for air and--)

"Altair." There was a hand at his shoulder shaking him and Altair grabbed it like it was a lifeline, his grip tight enough that he could hear Malik's bones creak. Instead of complaining, Malik only said his name again, more softly. "You were dreaming. You're safe."

Altair released him, slowly, waited to be mocked only to find Malik's hand stroking over his hair.

He did not ask what he had dreamed about and Altair did not say. But Malik followed when Altair dragged him down into bed with him.

In the morning he'd be embarassed by the needy way he'd grabbed a hold of Malik (so it was just as well Malik had extracted himself from the bed long before Altair was awake), but in that moment, he hadn't wanted to be left alone.

~ + ~

He brought Malik a horse when the snow was thick and furs as well as a reliable pair of boots were necessities.

It was an even tempered mare with a lineage to be proud of. He wasn't sure how much Malik could appreciate her quality, but he seemed awed at the sight of her.

"She's yours." Altair said and watched the way Malik's eyes turned even wider (horses were rare in the poor district, even when there were any they tended to be old, sickly things maybe better suited to the slaughterhouse than to be ridden).

"....I do not know how to ride a horse." Malik admitted, as he reached for the horse as if he were afraid he was going to be bitten.

Altair took his hand in one of his. Malik's fingers were indistinct under the padding of the glove but Altair could feel the way his fingers twitched beneath it as he pressed it asgainst the horse's nose, "Then I'll teach you."

~ + ~

In return, because Malik hated to owe anyone anything, he taught Altair how to cut purses.

"Though I can't imagine what you'd do with this skill. You are a prince. What could you possinly need to steal?"

And Altair said nothing.

~ + ~

Spring was slow to arrive but Malik's pile of furs grew smaller as the days grew longer again.

It was still cold enough for him to wrap himself in furs as he read by what little light remained in the hearth and Altair watched him surreptitiously as he did. Some dying coal in the hearth crackled as Malik was trying to sound out a particularly long word and it made him jump, pulling the book close to his chest.

He looked up (to see if it had woken up Altair) and Altair hadn't anticipated the move fast enough to feign sleep again.

They were left staring at each other in mute shock, both of them caught in the act of something they weren't yet ready to talk about.

"What?" Malik shrunk back and he clutched the book more tightly. "Why are you awake?"

Altair got out of bed and moved like Malik were a skittish rabbit, ears perked up and ready to flee. What he had learned in the last months was that if he said anything wrong, Malik would clam up.

Malik did not run, but was supicious even when Altair slowly reached out and touched the book's spine, hooked his fingers over the top and slowly pulled it back down into Malik's lap.

"This is how you pronounce this word--"

He was surprised when Malik relented, breahed more easily when Malik settled beside him, even allowing Altair a space beneath his blanket of furs as they slowly worked their way through a book that was probably too hard for someone who was just learning to read.

(But Malik helped lay him down when he nodded off, and they slept like that, with a book between them and by the dying hearth).

~ + ~

"I have a brother." Malik said when they were stuck inside due to the first spring rain. Altair looked up from the trade agreement his father had told him to follow up on. Malik's forehead was pressed against the glass, looking a far cry from the skinny, filth-covered youth he'd been when he came to the castle. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips that seemed too private to be shared.

And yet, he tilted his head away from the window to look at him when Altair said nothing.

"Do you miss him?"

Malik looked outside again, and maybe his thoughts taking him far away (but maybe because Altair's participation in the conversation reassured him). "I will see him again." Was apparently his idea of an answer.

(And Altair thought, it the disappointment that shot through him seemed out of place in this moment).

~ + ~

Winter saw them spending far too much of their days indoors, but by the time the weather turned warm, Altair deemed Malik competent enough to ride out into the forest and they were often found together outside. Even when they didn't take the horses out, it was easy enough to find them in the gardens

The landscape seemed to change daily until the buds that grew on the barren winter branches settled into being mature, green leaves. The changes in the gardens were as fasinating for Malik (who had never seen so much green in one place) to watch as the careful way he walked through the garden, touching all the young shoots and the blushing pink flower buds was for Altair

~ + ~

It was late spring when Altair found out about Malik's birthday.

Mostly because the palace had begun to prepare to celebrate it.

"You never said anything." He said while Malik was rearranging his fingers to correct his grip on the knife.

"I wasn't aware it mattered so much." Malik stepped back, "there. Try throwing it again. Like how I showed you."

~ + ~

There was a large feast the night of Malik's birthday that he didn't really appreciate. (He did not enjoy feasts but tolerated them.)

Afterwards, back in the privacy of their room, Altair handed him a wrapped set of throwing knives.

"You shouldn't have." Malik said as he pulled one out. Altair didn't listen to his words, knowing that Malik was not often honest with them, but focused on the way his fingers cradled the blade, the way he tested it for balance and the smile that lit up his eyes even as it met resistence in settling in the curved of his mouth. "Thank you."

"You're wselcome."

~ + ~

Malik did not ask when Altair's birthday was because it was a public holiday.

If it were as easy to figure out what to get him.

~ + ~

Altair was tied up with the trade agreements by mid-summer, which neatly dropped an oppurtunity into Malik's lap.

That he then promptly threw into Altair's lap.

"What is this?" He said as he pulled open the leather pouch Malik had thrown at him.

"A birthday gift." Malik said as Altair unrolled the parchment. "I had considered working in town to get some money to buy you something, but this seemed more practical."

Altair's mouth quirked up in a smirk. "You stole this?"

"What a stupid question." Malik said with a roll of his eyes. "Will this give you leverage in the upcoming trade talks?"

Altair rolled the paper up again. "It will."

And Malik had never felt more pleased by his own success than when Altair took his hand and thanked him.

~ + ~

Altair hadn't thought much about the anniversary of their wedding, or the agreed upon one year of forced marriage they had both decided to endure.

It was easy to forget when he was busy arguing with Malik about the whether or not table manners were important.

(Altair had never been in favour of them. He expected Malik to agree, but he seemed to care more for appearances than Altair had ever managed to.)

But then, there was Malik, who had a list of things he could or should take with him in his head and a bag buried in the pile of pillows he had thought would be useful.

When he finally grew tired of thinking about it, he said, "I'm not sure where I'd put a horse. We don't have a stable and even if we did I think she'd be stolen and sold overnight." He was reading with far more fluency now with Altair's help, but the words didn't make an impression on him tonight.

Altair's arm, that had settled so naturally on his waist drew him closer. "Well." He said slowly, "I could always settle you somewhere else. Somewhere with a stable where no one will steal your horse. Or your boots." Because Malik had become inordinately fond of footwear that could be worn out without fear that it would wear out in a matter of days.

"Where would that be?"

"The rich district is nice. But if you want the best security there is nowhere better than the castle."

"Are you telling me to stay?" If Malik had wanted to be convincing in his sarcasm he might have tried not leaning into the curve of Altair's body until they fit snugly against each other.

"If you want." Altair shrugged. "I just realized, we've been married for a year and I've never even kissed you."

Malik arched a brow, "well. It hasn't been a year yet. We could still fix it."

"Yes," Altair's hand rested on Malik's cheek, "we could."

~ + ~

They had not kissed at their wedding. It was clear to the entire court that married was the last thing they wanted to be. Making them kiss in public would have been pushing an already strained situation and it was possible one of them would have bitten the other person's tongue off.

It was a sharp contrast to their anniversary celebration where, against all Malik's warning glares, Altair had pulled him in and kissed him deeply to the catcalls of the entire banquet hall. Malik might have hit him for it (he knew from his readings that this was completel inappropriate and that all of Masyaf would be gossiping about their prince's lack of shame for days), but instead he tilted his head up and grabbed a fistful of Altair's clothes in a fist and kissed him back.

#altmal #mrasayf #who is wonderful and fun to follow on Tumblr #thank you for everything you contributed to the fandom #I wanted to play anon fairy for a bit longer #but 500 characters would have been impossible for me #alas #this is me playing at being anon fairy #things i write

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