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itskotka · 5 months ago

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Snow Day

Description: It snows and Johnny gets to keep Robby for a few extra days.

Notes: Idc what cannon says, Johnny is a good dad here. For @itskotka for @cksecretsanta ! Merry Christmas, sorry this is so late friend! Hope you enjoy!

“The road is covered,” Johnny peered out of the blinds of his shitty little apartment, glaring at the white covering the ground, “what is the plan?”

“The plan?” Shannon laughed over the phone and Johnny rolled his eyes. She wasn’t taking things as seriously as he was. Johnny had, surprisingly, been the one to take the custody agreement the most particularly. Sid had fed him with horror stories from his time as a divorce lawyer. One slip up and you never saw the kid again.

Johnny didn’t think Shannon would do that, but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want to miss being in Robby’s life. Not now, not ever. “The plan is that you keep Robby until the snow clears.” Shannon's voice was steady, “Look, I wouldn’t trust myself to drive in all this shit and I certainly don’t trust you to do it either.”

“You’re sure,” Johnny checked again, “I can go real slow-”

“I’m not risking you or Robby getting into a car crash because you’re too anxious. I’m not gonna take you to court for keeping Robby a few extra days John.” Shannon sounded exasperated, Johnny couldn’t blame her. “Just take lots of pictures of the little bug out in the snow, yeah?”

Johnny let out a sigh of relief and gave a small nod, though he knew Shannon couldn’t see it. He was honestly feeling…excited. Now that the worry was out of the way, he could focus on the fact that he was actually going to get a few extra days with his son. Not only extra days but extra snow days. On his first set of snow days they would get to have together.

Not that it was necessarily rare for them to get snow, but more often than not Robby would be with Shannon when it snowed and, by the time the roads were cleared, the novelty would have worn off. That and the snow would usually be a slushy mess of mud and ice. Not exactly great for father-son bonding.

Then, the one year it had snowed while Robby had been with Johnny, the poor kid had been so sick with a stomach bug that Johnny was taking care of him while covered in gloves and some of his protective equipment from his construction job. And Johnny had still gotten sick despite all of that.

So, in his mind, this was the first snow he would have with Robby. He was determined to make it a good one.

He gave a light chuckle into the phone. “Don’t worry, you’ll probably be sick of snow pictures by the time you get Robby back.”

“Feel warm, bud?” Johnny tucked Robby’s scarf into his jacket, giving a soft smile as he looked over his bundled-up son. Robby was all red-faced and puffed up. He’d been complaining for the last few minutes about how long it was taking for them to go out. Johnny wasn’t going to risk the kid getting a cold or pneumonia or something equally as terrifying to his already anxious mind. He’d already determined that he was going to be holding tight to Robby as they went down the stairs to ensure that his on wasn’t going to slip and fall and break something.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought as Robby answered, “Yes! I’m warm, can we go out now? I wanna make a snow man.”

Johnny gave a small chuckle before standing up and slipping his own gloves on. “We can go out, but you gotta hold on to me when we go down the stairs, okay? Don’t want you slipping.” Robby’s bright smile and eager nod was enough to send warmth blooming through Johnny’s chest.

They made their way down the slippery metal stairs of the apartment building carefully, aided by Johnny’s death grip on the railing and Robby’s hand to make sure that neither of them would go down too easily. It was only once Johnny finally felt the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet that he relaxed, releasing Robby’s arm and watching him set off into the snow with an excited little yell.

It was amusing to watch his son. Of course, Shannon shared pictures and told Johnny just how much Robby really loved the snow, but it was different to see it in person. Now, he could stand back and watch for himself as Robby practically dove into the snow. His phone was out in an instant, snapping pictures of his son laughing and throwing snow and already starting to try and build the very base of a snowman.

Robby had this big grin on his face and Johnny couldn’t help but match it as he watched him. He stayed back, watching and snapping pictures until Robby looked up at him with those wide eyes and asked, “Dad, come help me, its too heavy!”

Johnny’s heart melted in his chest. He was quick to shove his phone back into his pocket and join Robby on his knees, building up the base of the snowman.

Johnny let himself be ordered about, Robby setting him to work rolling out a giant snowball while he started to build up the middle piece of the snowman. The two worked carefully, occasionally tossing snow at one another when things got a bit boring.

By the time Robby decided that the base of the snowman was big enough, the snowball was almost as tall as him and Johnny had used enough snow that they could see a bit of grass peeking through the white.

Next, Johnny was made to lift up the big snowball that Robby had made for the middle. He did so, all while trying not to laugh at the barking orders that his son was giving him. The little bug sounded like one of those construction workers that Johnny worked with. He decided he might need to get him his own construction hat for their snow-building projects to finish off the look.

Then came the head, he was also made to place that. Finally, he had to help Robby dig through the snow to find proper rocks and sticks to fit to their snowman. It took almost as long as building the body did, if only because Robby wasn’t satisfied until they’d found the “perfect” pieces.

Johnny held the two sticks and several rocks in one hand and hauled Robby up on his shoulder with the other. Ever so slowly, Robby placed everything in the snow. He smoothed out the eyes, pressed tiny pebbles in for the mouth, and positioned the sticks carefully so that it almost seemed like the snowman was waving. He was clearly an expert at that point.

Once the final touches had been made, the two stepped back to admire their work. Robby gave a slow nod of approval, as though he hadn’t expected for his dad actually to be able to keep up with his snowman-building abilities. After a moment, Johnny made him stand with their creation so that he could snap a picture of him with a bright grin.

“Looks awesome kiddo,” Johnny tucked his phone back into his pocket. “What’s next? Igloo?”

Robby grinned at him before ducking down and grabbing a handful of snow. Johnny knew immediately what he was doing, still, he wasn’t able to dodge his son’s quick throw. The cold snow smacked against his chest and Johnny gasped, pretending to be horribly wounded as Robby laughed.

“Oh you are going to regret that one,” Johnny gave a evil laugh before darting down to grab snow at the same time that Robby did, both of them laughing as they began to run around, hurling quickly made snow balls at each other.

Later, as Johnny was carefully stirring in milk and hot chocolate mix on his stove, he took a long moment to send all of the fifty pictures he’d taken to Shannon with a grin. He ignored her responding messages saying that she didn’t think he was serious about the photos, unbothered as he set the background of his phone to a photo of him and Robby covered in snow in front of their snowman.

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itskotka · 5 months ago

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slippery slope

for @beetlepassing @cksecretsanta

summary: johnny and robby have very different experiences regarding snow. on a snowy tournament trip, johnny has to face his fear. if only either of them knew how to ski.

A/N: psa i haven't written for a long time (major writer's block and lack of time) but this was so fun to write! it's a little bit angsty but i hope the happy ending payout worked out well. i hope you enjoy!

If there were only one major difference between Robby Keene and his father, it would have to be their opinions on the snow. Johnny loathed it; the way it stuck to his beat-down shoes, the cold slickness, and the heaviness of it all. Robby enjoyed the chill in the air and the way it fell so quiet. Of course, it rarely snowed in California.

Johnny, however, remembered the annual Christmas trips he endured with his mother in various wintery states. Resorts where he stayed inside while his mom drank or spent her days with his step-father, neglecting the so-called “family bonding” she planned the trips out to be. They encouraged him to go skiing (never mind that he hadn’t before) or “make friends for himself.” After years of sitting in their shitty hotel rooms, he decided this was the year he was going to go. And so he did, renting skis with his pocket change and venturing up the slopes. And because Johnny Lawrence wasn’t a wuss, he went to the black diamond.

He didn’t remember much of the accident - mostly just that there had been one. Somewhere he turned wrong, or somewhere he went off a cliff, or somewhere he hit a tree. He wasn’t quite sure. He did remember lying in the snow with numb limbs, shivering from the cold and pain, and waiting for his mom to find him. She was coming, she had to be. The weight of the snow he was stuck in felt impossible to move from. He waited until the sky went dark and he could barely move when he realized nobody was coming. Johnny had faced death numerous times, and maybe it was the chill in the air or the stupidity of it all, but that was the one that stuck with him the most. Using everything he had left, he got to his knees and trekked down the rest of the hill at an excruciatingly slow pace. With tears in his eyes and blood on his legs, he made it.

Before he could lock himself in the bathroom (in hopes that his mom or Sid didn’t see), he was stopped by a woman in the lobby who saw the state he was in and called an ambulance. His mom was pissed, but not more than Sid was. The man held it over him ever since in detail Johnny had blocked out for so many years. The trips stopped after that year and Johnny’s hospital bills were to blame.

Robby, on the other hand, saw the snow as peace. His mom took him on trips similar to Johnny’s whenever she was invited by a man wealthier than they could dream of. When the men found out she was bringing her kid, they started changing their minds. As a last resort, Shannon said she was simply his nanny. This lowered the pressure and shame of being a single mother, and Robby tried not to think about that too much.

He was a quiet, introspective child. On these trips, watching the snow was the one thing that got him through. Whether inside or out, he sat and watched in wonder. Every flake was unique and he found himself creating stories for them. Many hours of his were spent fascinated by the calmness of something as simple as a frozen water drop. He found most of his peace within the fluffy, mysterious white snow he always missed when they returned.

Johnny never wanted to revisit the cold climates, but Robby longed for it. When Daniel signed them up for a tournament in Aspen, the kids' excitement ultimately trumped Johnny’s resentment. And, because Johnny wasn’t a quitter, he followed suit.

With the tournament committee’s help combined with Daniel’s, they ended up at an all-exclusive convention center-turned-ski-resort. Johnny had one goal for the weekend: stay inside at all costs. Daniel and the kids had other plans.

The tournament went well. They won first over all with no surprise appearances from Cobra Kai or other enemies. It felt weird, but it was almost like they were a normal dojo again. Karate wars settled (at least for now) and hearts happy. Miguel and Robby were getting along fine; Tory and Sam were fixing things. If it weren’t for his paralyzing fear, even Johnny would have been relaxed.

On their last day, the four kids lined up in the lobby decked in winter gear. Johnny turned around from his midday drink at the bar and held his tongue at the sight.

“You aren’t going to join us on the slopes?” Daniel mocked, piling on thick layers of gear.

Johnny grimaced. “No, you guys go ahead. I’ve got a headache.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Leading up to the trip, he felt his head throb every time he thought of it.

Daniel threw him a skeptical look. “If you say so, John.” The group started for the doors, but Robby hung back.

“You sure, Dad?” he asked.

Johnny waved him off. “Yeah, probably gonna go lay down or something. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Robby agreed. “Just checking.” He ran to catch up to them, heading towards the girls. Johnny took one last swig of his drink and watched them go, preparing for a long, peaceful nap. A twinge of guilt pulled at his chest as they walked through the fresh fallen snow. Putting it off as heart burn, he turned to the hallway and to his room.

When Johnny woke up to someone trying to knock down his door, the daylight was long gone. He groaned, hoping whoever it was would go away. He was less than a day away from being back in sunny California. He could be a Scrooge if he wanted to.

“Johnny!” The knocking continued; Daniel’s muffled voice cussing him out through the thin hotel walls. Johnny rolled his eyes and lifted the covers. With his eyes half-shut, he opened the door.

“Larusso, this better be important.” He slowly adjusted his eyes to the light, finally revealing Daniel’s worried expression. His stomach lurched. “What is it?” His voice shook, sobering.

Daniel sighed, seemingly out of breath. “It started snowing and… ah, God, we got separated and…”

“And?”

“We can’t find Robby.” And just like that, Johnny’s last sense of peace vanished.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, John.”

“Holy shit.”

“He’s a smart kid.”

“I gotta go.” Johnny pushed past Daniel, starting for the doors.

Daniel called after him. “Jacket? Boots?” He stopped, turned around, and to his surprise, Daniel already was holding what he needed. He threw them on, softly muttering a thanks, and headed outside.

A blast of cold hit him immediately. Flurries started spiraling around him and he could picture himself stumbling down the hill in similar conditions. Daniel was right - Robby was a smart kid. However, that also meant he would have been back already if he was okay. Johnny considered puking, barely a few feet from the door he came out of. Go, he urged himself. He had no clue where he was going or what his plan was. All he knew was that he had to go find his kid, and he at least had luck with that in the past. Johnny eyed the towering ski hills. “Alright bud, where the hell would you be?” he whispered to the wind. With snow in his eyes and a chill in his heart, he began trudging up the hill.

Every second reminded him of his past. It seemed to be a recurring theme in his life that he wished he could escape. Before Kreese took ahold of his life, when he was supposed to “enjoy his youth,” he was stuck injured and alone. He could imagine Robby, lost and hurt, too, and somehow that hurt worse.

He was making progress, despite tripping over his feet and cursing at the cold for freezing his ass off. He was halfway up the tallest hill after what felt like forever when he realized one thing he could do.

On the very rare occasion that Johnny saw his son in his youth, they often played hide and seek. Johnny, being the deadbeat (probably still drunk from the night before) father, would get lazy, creating a whistle in true ‘marco polo’ fashion. He had absolutely no idea if Robby remembered it, let alone how he thought of it himself, but anything was worth a shot. He let out a low whistle. Once, then twice. No response, and Johnny thought for sure he was an idiot for trying. After attempting once more, Johnny fell back into the snow and sat.

Then, a whistle of wind. Once, then twice. Johnny recognized that sound: picturing a little kid in a soccer jersey and round glasses. He scrambled to get to his feet, repeating his first call. Call and response. Call and response. Johnny followed the sound, trudging towards the woods when he spotted a familiar navy blue jacket. He flung himself on the ground next to him, trying not to think too much about how cold it was or how long he was lying like this.

“Dad?” Robby’s voice trembled in a soft tone.

“I’m right here, Robby.” Johnny brought his gloved hand to the back of Robby’s helmet and started to analyze the situation. His bad knee was bent backwards and tangled with a tree limb. A familiar streak of red traced the snow around his head, and Johnny felt his head rush with panic.

“I - I don’t know what happened. I just… couldn’t get up,” Robby explained under his breath. As much as Johnny wanted to assure him that everything was fine, another twinge of guilt-striken panic hit him and he couldn’t breathe. His grip loosened behind Robby’s head as he began to shake. “Are.. are you okay?” He tried opening his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. “Hey, I’m fine,” he whispered. “I’ll be fine. It’s just snow.”

Suddenly, he could feel the weight crushing his legs all those years ago and his numb body and mind. The hope, the distrust, the shame. It all came rushing back as he looked down at his son.

“I’m… sorry,” he managed.

“What? Why would you be sorry?” Once again, he couldn’t bring himself to answer. “You found me anyway,” Robby continued. And then it struck Johnny: his mom never came, but he did. He would never receive a great parent award, but it had to prove something… right?

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” he breathed out. “Let’s get you out of here.” Focusing his energy back onto Robby, he began lifting the branches and piles of snow away from his legs. He grabbed the bad leg gently and shifted it toward himself. Robby barely flinched. “Don’t worry, it’ll hurt later. The cold numbs it real good,” Johnny explained nonchalantly.

Robby scrunched up his face. “How would you know? I thought you’ve never even seen snow.”

Johnny sighed heavily. It was better to explain now than never. “I have, unfortunately. Ma used to bring me places like this and my dumbass went skiing without knowing how. I had an accident and… it was pathetic.”

“Wait, what?”

“Broken legs, concussions, some stitches. Ma and Sid were pissed when I got sent out in an ambulance. Not that Sid couldn’t afford it, that selfish asshole.” Johnny looked back down at Robby, who wore an expression he couldn’t describe.

“What? Is that why… why you were blanking out?” He nodded and Robby considered this. “Did they not look for you?”

“Uh… no. They didn’t. I had to find a way out myself.” Just like he did his entire life.

“I’m sorry, I can’t believe that. For whatever it’s worth, I’m glad you came for me. I mean, I could barely step foot into the school after everything with Miguel. I can’t imagine coming back like this.” A small smile formed on Johnny’s lips. Maybe he could turn things around for himself. He didn’t have to stay stuck in his past. He finally had a relationship with his kid, his karate enemy, and had people in his life who actually cared about him. This was new, and it was different.

“Thank you, Robby.”

“Now… can you get me up?” He laughed, and Johnny hoped that he would remember this moment after the delirium faded. He obliged, of course, and helped him. Holding him upright, they began the trek down the hill very cautiously. Dislocated knee or not, if Johnny could do it, Robby could, too.

“I’m shocked you remembered that whistle,” Robby commented, his teeth chattering between phrases.

“I didn’t even think you would. You know, you’re way stronger than me, kid,” Johnny remarked.

“If you say so.”

“What do you say we plan a ski trip next winter?” he joked.

“I’d say I hope you’re kidding.”

“We can break ourselves together this time.” The pair laughed, swaying in the thick snow and leaning over each other. And Johnny realized, as they staggered down the hill, that maybe the snow wasn’t too bad. Maybe Robby had it right all this time: with snow could come peace.

#cksecretsanta24 #fanfic #writing #angst with a happy ending #winter #snow #robby keene #johnny lawrence #johnny and robby #fatherson #christmas #secret santa #fanfiction #cobrakai #karatekid #daniel larusso #skiing #accident #whump

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itskotka · 6 months ago

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peter's last words when he dies in front of tony: i'm sorry

peter's last words when tony dies in front of him: i'm sorry

everything's his fault, apparently. he's just like me.

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itskotka · 6 months ago

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Peter: You think I’m ready for this?

Tony: *softly* You’ve always been ready, kid.

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itskotka · 7 months ago

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the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating

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itskotka · 8 months ago

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★ "But I knew him" ★

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itskotka · 10 months ago

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i want more and more and more!!!

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned.

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot.

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him.

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season.

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over.

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were.

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed.

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered.

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile.

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised.

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–”

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly.

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?”

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back.

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open.

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds.

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners..

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back.

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison.

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said.

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.”

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna.

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled.

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp.

Well fuck me, you thought.

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin.

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler.

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag.

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned.

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy.

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him.

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation.

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him.

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor.

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

…

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did.

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go.

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside.

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses.

“C’mon!” you screamed.

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled.

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately.

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won.

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way.

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!”

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up.

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did.

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again.

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next?

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake.

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath.

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress.

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed.

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything.

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin.

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble.

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry.

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart.

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort.

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could.

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest.

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night.

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not.

“Was I screaming?”

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself.

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth.

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised.

“What?” you asked.

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.”

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly.

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.”

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise.

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.”

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded.

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either.

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely.

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you.

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you.

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it?

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.”

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.”

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed.

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later.

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it.

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased.

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked.

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

#tyler owens #tyler owens fic #fanfiction recommendation #tyler owens x reader #twisters #tyler owens x reader fanfic #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine #twisters x reader

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itskotka · 10 months ago

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If you feel it, chase it.

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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I love sitting in another fandoms, but my heart will never beat faster with so much joy like when I am reading irondad spiderson fanfics.

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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“Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.”

— E.E. Cummings

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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fanfic writers, here’s a friendly reminder that you are not less of a writer if you haven’t posted anything in years, you are not less of a writer if your works aren’t as popular as other writers’, you are not less of a writer if some trolls left you rude comments (they either just want your attention or are simply intimidated/threatened by your talent), you are not less of a writer if you write short one-shots instead of a 100k novel-length fanfic, you are not less of a writer if you’re not satisfied with your writing (I promise you it’s so much better than you think, you should be proud of yourself), you are not less of a writer if you’re not comfortable posting any of your works at all.

you are always as valid as any other fellow writers out there.

another reminder: fanfic writing is not a competition, and it’s not a job. don’t put so much pressure on yourself. always remember, the point of writing fanfictions is that we get to have fun, escape reality into the world we create in which we can write anything we want.

it stops being a getaway and a safe place the second we treat writing fanfic as a job or a competition. no, you’re not writing for anybody. you’re writing for you. this world you create is just you and your blorbos. have fun. it’s your getaway.

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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Summary: Robert Swayze Keene’s application essay has caught the attention of UCLA’s application committee, and in order to secure his place in UCLA and a full ride scholarship, he must explain that yes, he actually is telling the truth regarding what he wrote there.

Here it is, my barely on time @cksecretsanta23 gift for @ediewritesstuff! I hope you love reading this gift as much as I loved writing it, and I hope you have had a deliriously happy holiday season.

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itskotka · 1 year ago

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the greatest gift of all

for @dull-c @cksecretsanta23

summary: it's johnny's first christmas with robby and he's determined to make it okay. he ends up at daniel's house for christmas.

A/N: this was so fun to write and i'm very excited for you to read this! apologies it took a little longer than expected and was slightly rushed, but nonetheless, merry christmas and happy holidays!

Johnny Lawrence didn’t know what to expect. It was his first Christmas with Robby - finally after all of these years - and all he wanted was to not screw it up. He was notorious for ruining everything in his life, so why would Christmas be the exception? He needed this to go over okay. After the last tournament, they had been better. Good, even. Part of that he attributed to Daniel and his good influence - even as hard as that was to admit. Johnny knew the mistakes he made and the irreversible damage they caused, but he was determined to fix it. Bandaids don't fix bullet holes after all.

Everything was set up to be good, mediocre in the least. Until his power went out, he cursed out the tenant upstairs, almost got into a fight, and burnt the only edible food he had in his kitchen. Breathe in, breathe out, assess the damages. There was a method to his madness, as difficult as it was to see what that method was. He glanced at his watch. There were only 20 minutes until Robby was supposed to be over and there was no way he could host anymore. Hell, even the skinny tree in the corner was falling apart and had no lights to cover it up with.

And that’s how Johnny Lawrence and his son ended up on Daniel LaRusso’s doorstep on Christmas night.

“Come on in, John. Hey Robby, how are you?” Daniel greeted them as he opened the front door and led them inside.

“Thanks for having us, Mr. LaRusso,” Robby answered and shook his hand. Johnny rolled his eyes, both in embarrassment and jealousy. Over the phone with Daniel, Daniel had insisted it wasn’t a problem at all to have them. Johnny disagreed, but what other choice did he have? His plans were already ruined anyway and he wasn’t succumbing to Robby going back to Shannon’s alone for Christmas. Robby didn’t mind the change of scenery - God, his politeness and patience were surely not inherited from his father. Johnny couldn’t seem to mind as long as this all got smoothed out and Robby had a good night.

The LaRusso’s front room was decked out in bright white lights and greenery. Smooth jazz music erupted from the corner, along Amanda quickly adjusted the sound. Johnny peered down one of the hallways, noticing they took the phrase “deck the halls” a little too literally. It was impressive, honestly.

Amanda approached the pair and was quick to shake their hands. “It’s very nice to see you both,” she told them, lingering slightly at Johnny. Maybe it was the maternal instinct in her to know when something was wrong, but she definitely sensed tension with Johnny. Johnny tightly smiled at her until she walked away to the kitchen, trying to make himself seem put together.

He turned back towards Robby who was taking in the decorations. “Sorry again, Robby. If that jackass upstairs hadn’t tried to light three trees at once, we wouldn’t be here.” Robby looked up at him, confused.

“It’s okay, Dad. Really.” He let out a breath of relief. Being addressed as ‘Dad’ was new to him and a foreign concept, but it warmed his heart every time he heard it. “I’m gonna say hi to Sam if that’s okay,” Robby said with a small smile. He waved him off and patted his shoulder as he walked past and down the decked hall. He was proud of his son for following in his footsteps in that way; arguably one of the good traits he inherited. For their sake, he hoped it would work out this time.

“Well, merry Christmas Johnny!” Daniel exclaimed, sneaking up out of nowhere on him. “Mi casa es su casa. Wait, do you know what that means? I know you’re with Miguel a lot but-”

“I’m not an idiot, Daniel. I passed Spanish in high school, thanks to Ali’s homework.” Daniel chuckled, putting his hand on Johnny’s shoulder.

“And look how far that got you. Make yourself at home, John. Dinner’s almost ready. I don’t have any Coors Banquet, but you can pick your poison.” Daniel presented him with his bar cart, fully stocked with a large variety of alcohol. Johnny mumbled back a thanks and cracked open a beer.

“If I didn’t know better,” Johnny started, pausing to take a swig out of his bottle. “I’d say you were an alcoholic.”

“And what do you think the cause of that would be?”

“Bullshit, LaRusso.”

“You’re telling me!” Johnny rolled his eyes at Daniel’s remark. The pair was on better terms now, but those terms still weren’t good . Acquaintances with a past, at most. Either way, Johnny was ready for this night to be over. Daniel led them into the kitchen (which was still, ridiculously decorated) and helped Amanda finish up dinner. Johnny found himself examining their family photos on the mantle and the walls. The most he had was Robby’s soccer picture from God knows how many years ago. He secretly wished for what LaRusso had. The perfect family, the perfect mentor, the perfect life . Aside from his part in it, of course. He’d never admit to it aloud, but he felt its presence everywhere. In everything he did, he realized the weight of the things he’d done and how hard they were to fix. But he was working on it. Trying had to count for something.

Robby, Sam, and Anthony eventually came down from the hall and sat to eat the five-course meal Amanda had prepared.

“You’ve outdone yourselves. Thank you,” Johnny commented to the couple next to him. Robby sat on the other side of him, but Daniel insisted on sitting next to Johnny (even if it wasn’t his ‘usual’ spot as Anthony put it).

“Of course, any time,” Amanda accepted with a smile.

Daniel, on the other hand, protested. “A compliment from Johnny Lawrence? It must be a true Christmas miracle.”

“Laugh it up LaRusso. I’m here out of pity.”

“Sure you are, John.” The table succumbed to the silent chatter of forks scraping against plates and small comments here and there. When everyone was finished, Daniel put on Home Alone and ended up at the kitchen island with Johnny. Johnny watched a lot of television and films, sure, but he was enjoying the peace and sense of comfort he found there. It was a change of pace and he hated himself for enjoying it there. At Daniel LaRusso’s mansion nonetheless. “Not a fan of peak Christmas movies?” Daniel approached, holding a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Nah, I’m just. Watching, I guess.” Johnny didn’t know how to lie very well, which was funny considering his track record. Daniel set the glasses down and gestured to ask permission. Johnny grabbed the glass and nodded. “Thanks, man.”

“You not a fan of Christmas or something?”

“It’s my first Christmas with Robby, you know. My mom, uh, didn’t have a great track record with holidays. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes,” Johnny admitted, unsure why he was even talking about it. His mom had been gone for years and he didn’t even like to speak about her when she was still here. Daniel just nodded silently and sipped his drink. “I feel like I already ruined it,” he whispered. At this comment, Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him.

“You didn’t ruin it. I may not be your biggest fan, but I can’t watch you self-deprecate like this. You don’t deserve that. And look at him.” He pointed towards Robby, who was laughing on the couch next to Sam. “He’s happy.”

“No thanks to me.”

“You brought him here. That was enough.” Their conversation lulled as Johnny thought about what he had said. Robby looked happy to be there and that’s all that mattered, wasn’t it? Maybe it wasn’t such a bad night after all, and maybe this was where they were supposed to be.

“Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, Johnny.”

“Do you have wrapping paper?” Daniel coughed out a laugh.

“Wrapping paper?” He asked back, laughing over his words.

“Whatever, man, forget I asked.”

“No, no, I do. Come with me.” Johnny rolled his eyes again and followed Daniel to a room opposite the other hallway. “Choose wisely,” Daniel teased, showing him an array of papers. Johnny wasn’t going to bother wrapping Robby’s gift, but he felt like the Christmas spirit was upon him. It didn’t help that he’d never wrapped a present before, but hell if he was going to ask Daniel for instruction. Johnny smiled weakly at him and grabbed a random blue roll with snowflakes on it. Expecting Daniel to leave, Johnny took out the gift from his jacket pocket and tried to align it with the paper. “Johnny,” Daniel sterned.

“What?”

“Have you ever even, you know, wrapped a gift?”

“Pssh, of course, I have.” Johnny held his pocket knife up towards the paper, the paper crinkling in his hands.

“Doesn’t look like it. Here.” Daniel took a pair of scissors off a desk and laid the wrapping on the floor. Johnny crouched to meet his level and watched the man cut the paper and carefully wrap it around the rectangle. “Tape?”

“Oh, right.” Johnny turned and found the tape, ripping off too long of a piece and handing it to him. Daniel chuckled at it but took it anyway. They continued on it mutually (although Daniel definitely knew what he was doing; Johnny did not). When done, Daniel stood and bowed to it as if it were a karate match. Johnny shook his head at him and took the gift from the floor. “Thank you. I appreciate it, man.”

“Anytime John.” They left the room and returned to their whiskeys at the counter. “You’re really worried about this whole Robby-Christmas thing, aren’t you?” Daniel asked, pushing the subject further. Johnny gulped and took another swig. “For what it’s worth, I think your worry is proof you’re doing something right. As parents, all we want is our kids to be okay.”

“I screwed up. Bad.” He sighed.

“We all do.” Daniel paused. “Sam’s 8th Christmas? She caught me writing from Santa on a present. How’s that for lazy planning on my part?” Johnny laughed, picturing the story.

“That’s different.”

“Sure it is. Point is, we make mistakes. We learn from them. We grow up. And along the way, we realize that maybe, someday, things will be forgiven.” Johnny stared at the bottom of his glass, taking the other man’s words to heart. “You’re doing alright, Johnny. And believe it or not, it’s good for you to be in his life. You both deserve that.”

“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but you give good advice LaRusso.”

“We’re not so different, you and I. We were raised differently - sometimes that’s the only difference. We don’t have to fight.” Daniel smiled meekly.

“No. I suppose we don’t.”

“Christmas truce?”

“Christmas truce,” he agreed. The men shook hands, accepting the fact that tomorrow was a new day. Maybe in the new year, things would be better for them; they could only hope. The movie shortly ended and Johnny collected his things to leave. Daniel started leading him towards the front door. “Thank you again, Daniel. It was a good Christmas.”

“I would have to agree with you there. Wait, where’s Robby?”

“Saying goodbye to Sam.” Daniel nodded, but as he turned his head towards the hallway, he saw the couple kiss under a conveniently planted mistletoe. Daniel scoffed as Johnny started to smile. “Attaboy,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I guess it is tradition,” Daniel agreed solemnly. “I need another drink.”

“Tradition or not, if you try getting me under that? It’s over LaRusso. I will kick your ass until there’s no ass left to kick.”

“Ouch. You forget I’m also a trained fighter.”

“I don’t know how I could forget the thing you’ve lorded over me for how many years now?” Johnny started counting on his fingers. Daniel struck his hand down, laughing as he did.

“Point taken.” Robby suddenly appeared from the hall, joining them.

“What’s happening over here?” He asked calmly, a sly smile on his face.

“Your father’s being his ridiculous self.”

“What’s new?” The three of them shared a moment before Johnny and Robby headed out the door, thanking Daniel once again. Once outside, Johnny reached into his pocket.

“Before I forget,” he started, “I wanted you to have this.” Robby looked up at him, his breath condensing in the cold air. He carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing an old walkman. “I know it’s not much and I’m sorry. It used to be mine and it got me through some tough shit. If you think it’s stupid or you don’t want it, that’s fine I-” His rambling was cut off by Robby flinging his arms around him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Johnny’s jacket. Johnny, slightly taken aback, hugged him back cautiously and closed his eyes.

“Merry Christmas kid.”

“Merry Christmas Dad. I love you.” Johnny’s eyes filled with tears and he grabbed onto his son a little tighter. Maybe Daniel was right, in all of his weird wisdom and philosophy. Some things were worth fixing.

“I love you too, Robby.”

#cksecretsanta23 #cobra kai #fanfiction #writing #christmas #fluff #light angst #angst with a happy ending #robby keene #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #the karate kid #tkk

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