#this is because i ate a piece of sausage roll that had been in my niece's weird little hand isn't it.

[totowlff]

chapter seven — hope

➝ the most awaited day for cassie and toto has arrived. it was time to try for a child. for real.

➝ word count: 4,3k

➝ warnings: description of medical procedures

Cassie looked at the clock and sighed. It was getting too close to 7 for her liking and the entire house was running a little behind today. She took the sausage out of the frying pan, putting some on hers and her husband’s plates, and cutting one of hers in half for her daughter.

She could hear her daughter giggling all the way upstairs. 

— Come on, let’s go show mummy — she heard her husband say. 

She stepped into the doorway of the kitchen and hollered up the stairs.

— Hurry up, both of you, we’re running late!

She set out everyone’s breakfast plates on the table. Toast, sausage, and scrambled eggs for everyone. Her daughter would get just half of a link of sausage because she never finished it anyway, and strawberry jam on her toast, instead of butter. 

Her husband, Toto, strode into the kitchen with their daughter thrown over his shoulder, carrying her as if she were a sack of potatoes. She was squealing and giggling with delight. Her father was a very tall, strong man that she loved to use as a jungle gym, so it was likely her request to be carried down to breakfast in such a manner; it certainly wouldn’t have been unusual for them.

— Here you go, little one — he said. His daughter slid off of his shoulder and Toto lifted her up by her armpits, setting her gently into her usual chair at the dining table. It was the one with the booster seat — Let’s eat so you’re not late for school, we know mummy hates when we’re running late.

— Yes, because I’m the one the headteacher complains to — Cassie said, sitting down in her chair. She noticed that her daughter’s hair was done in a pair of braided pigtails, secured at the ends by light blue elastics that stood out against her dark hair. She’d unquestionably gotten her hair color from her father. 

— Your hair looks adorable today, darling. Did Papi braid it for you?

The girl grinned as she maneuvered her child-sized fork to spear a few pieces of scrambled egg. 

— Yes, but I picked out the elastics.

— She said she wanted to wear the light blue ones today, so they would match her shirt — Toto said, shrugging. 

The family ate breakfast in a hurry. It was Toto’s day to drop their daughter off at school, as Cassie had an early meeting over Zoom with an artist they’d contracted to create the team’s race posters for the upcoming season. The race schedule had just been finalized, and they wanted to discuss ideas for the visual marketing campaign for social media during race weeks. They’d worked with the same artist for the previous season, and her designs had proven wildly successful. 

— Don’t forget your lunch — Cassie said, rounding the corner out of the kitchen and into the entryway, her daughter’s almost-forgotten lunchbox in hand. She was scrambling to get out of the house. Toto was helping the child into her jacket, zipping it over her navy blue school uniform dress — And your kiss.

Crouching down, Cassie gave her daughter a goodbye hug and kiss.

— Have a good day, my darling. I love you so much. I will see you when I get home. Have fun at school today, and be good.

— Where’s my goodbye kiss? — Toto said, his voice teasing.

— You’ll see me in less than an hour, when you get to work! — Cassie said, exasperated.

— So? I want one for the road — her husband said. He had a mischievous grin on his face. Cassie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t aware she’d married a comedian.

— Okay, fine — she said, as Toto embraced her. She craned her head and stood on her tiptoes, and Toto bent town to give her a tender, yet still chase, kiss on the lips. Normally, they’d kiss with a bit more passion, but their daughter was watching — You’re lucky I love you so much.

— I am — Toto said, smiling fondly at his wife — And I love you, too.

— Okay, I have to go, seriously — Cassie said, pulling away from her husband’s embrace — I’m going to be late. I love you both!

As Cassie left the house, pulling the door shut behind her, her eyes snapped open. 

She awoke with a start.

It was still completely dark in her bedroom, save for the light from the streetlamp just outside of her window that managed to bleed in around the edges of her bedroom curtains. Her heart was racing, and her forehead was damp. 

— Oh — she said out loud, with a deep sigh — It was a dream.

She rolled over and fumbled for the phone on her nightstand, squinting as she turned on the screen. It was 4:45 in the morning, almost two hours before her alarm would be going off.

It was a big day — Cassie would be going to the clinic for her embryo transfer. It was all she’d been able to think about for the past few days — it had been a week since she’d had the egg retrieval done, and the clinic had called to report that the fertilization process had gone well, and had resulted in several fertilized embryos.

Only one would be implanted, while the rest would be frozen as backup. “Just in case the first round does not work,” the doctor had told her, but Cassie had every confidence that the first round would take. She was in excellent health, and so was Toto. The doctor had said the embryos were all of “top quality”, and she’d read stories from women on IVF forums that had existing health issues and had a successful first round.  

Everything seemed to be in alignment, so, in Cassie’s mind, there was no reason she wouldn’t be pregnant soon.

Cassie settled back down into her pillow. She tried closing her eyes for a few minutes to try to go back to sleep, but she kept seeing afterimages of her dream. She was married to Toto. They had a daughter together. It wasn’t a bad dream, but something about it made Cassie uneasy; a sure sign that she had fallen for Toto, too hard for her own good. 

So, she laid in bed, staring up at her ceiling in the dark. She couldn’t see any way around the fact that she would have to break her own heart by denying her feelings for Toto. They had entered into some very strange territory together, and Cassie hadn’t anticipated this when she agreed for Toto to become her donor.

Of course, she knew that he was a kind, caring man, but she hadn’t anticipated how tenderly he treated her, how he would be there for all the pain and procedures she’d gone through, or the work he was putting into being able to anticipate her needs. Toto treated Cassie more kindly than anyone she’d been with romantically for certain, and maybe treated her more kindly than anyone she’d ever met. But, she was sure it was a matter of convenience.

For all of Toto’s kind words about how brave she was, how good of a mother she’d make, how he would be there for them, there was no way Toto would ever see someone like her as anything more than what they were — coworkers, friends, co-parents. He’d never see her as someone to love. If her own parents didn’t see her as worthy of love, why would someone like Toto Wolff?

They had, through the miracle of science, produced a fertilized egg together, a fertilized egg that would become a child that they both desperately wanted, a child that would bind them together, but he didn’t see Cassie as someone to settle down with and make a life with. He had said so himself, in the solicitor’s office, when they signed their co-parenting agreement. 

Cassie kept replaying that moment in her mind, when the solicitor had asked them both if there was any possibility that they would develop a romantic relationship. Her heart sank when he denied it so quickly, so resolutely. But, that was the reality of the situation, and Cassie would have to learn how to deal with it. 

She rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes again, trying to at least get maybe another hour of sleep, but her father’s face appeared in her mind. 

“Don’t worry”, she imagined Albert saying, in the cold, cruel voice he always spoke to her with, on the rare occasion they did speak any more. “He won’t be so kind once he has what he wants from you. He’s only being nice to you because you’re having a baby for him”.

“No, that’s ridiculous”, she thought. “That’s not the kind of man Toto is”. She knew that for a fact, as he had always been kind to Cassie, even when Cassie had nothing she could offer Toto, beyond being his employee. 

The fact that such a thought would spring to mind, unprompted, was a bit jarring. Cassie tried to tell herself that such thoughts were ridiculous, had no basis in fact, and were not worth entertaining, but, then again, her family tossed her aside after she refused to live the life they wanted her to live, and give them the son-in-law and grandchildren they thought they deserved.

She gave up the prospect of more sleep entirely after that, opting to try and distract herself by getting ready for her appointment. She showered, brushed her teeth, and went to the kitchen to make some toast, hoping it would settle her stomach.

The embryo transfer didn’t involve any sort of anesthesia, so she was able to eat something beforehand, unlike the egg retrieval. Her doctor noted that this procedure would be quick — as little as five minutes, usually fifteen minutes — and would feel similar to the cervical cancer screening that Cassie had been getting every few years since she was a teenager, as part of her routine medical checkups. The longest part of the procedure would be the need to stay lying down for fifteen minutes afterward.

Toto, at precisely 8am, called her and told her he was outside. He had volunteered to give her a ride to and from the clinic, and once again, had insisted on staying with her for the evening when the doctor told them at the last appointment, that it would be best if Cassie stayed off of her feet for the rest of the day following the embryo transfer procedure. His plan, he’d told her, was to keep her company, and to make them something simple for lunch while Cassie rested. 

— And in the likely event that what I make doesn’t turn out, we can always order something — he joked. 

They didn’t say much to each other on the way to the clinic. Cassie was nervous, and Toto knew that she tended not to say much when she was nervous. On earlier visits, Toto would try to talk her out of her nerves, to reassure her, but he had since learned that she was more soothed by his touch, and his physical presence. Him holding her hand, making slow circles over her skin with this thumb. His arm around her shoulders. His hand protectively on her back as they walked side-by-side, which was how they walked into the clinic that morning. 

— Will I be able to go in with her today? — Toto asked, as Ashley, the clinic’s receptionist, was checking Cassie in. 

— Of course — Ashley said — Though, you will have to change into a pair of scrubs that we’ll give you, but you’ll be able to stay with Miss Aldersey the entire time. 

The last time, he hadn’t been really able to stay with her during the procedure for two reasons: he had to go provide a sample, and because it was technically a surgical procedure. 

The receptionist asked Cassie a few other questions, and had her sit down.

— We will call you back when we’re ready.

She tried to do some deep breathing to relax, and without much delay, Toto took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze and rubbing it gently with his thumb. Before long, they called Cassie back to the procedure room. They gave her a gown to change into, and gave Toto a set of surgical scrubs to put on. 

When he appeared back in the exam room after leaving to change, the sight of Toto in the light blue scrubs made Cassie giggle a bit as she got settled on the exam table. 

— What? — Toto asked, smiling a little as he took his place next to Cassie, taking her hand again. 

— I’ve just never seen you in anything other than your team kit and the clothes you wear at the office. You know, nice slacks and dress shirts. This is certainly a different look for you, that’s all.

— I’m just glad they had a set that had long enough legs to fit me — Toto said — Usually when things are ‘one size fits all’, it looks like I am expecting a flood.

The doctor knocked on the door, and Cassie said she was ready. He entered the exam room, followed by two assistants, who got to work finishing preparations for the procedure.

— Now, since we did a mock transfer at one of your exams, this should be relatively quick and painless — the doctor said — I just want to check, you did drink at least a liter of water before your appointment today, correct? It’s just to make sure your bladder is full, not critically so, but enough, to help me see your uterus on the ultrasound.

— Yes — Cassie said. Of course, now that the doctor had mentioned it, she felt like she needed to go to the bathroom, but she ignored that feeling for now. 

The doctor confirmed her name and birthdate, cross-checked it with the information on the test tube the embryologist had brought in, and before Cassie knew it, everything was underway. Toto was able to stand next to her and hold her hand. 

The doctor positioned himself between Cassie’s legs and inserted the speculum, which made Cassie wince a bit. 

Toto squeezed her hand. 

— Are you okay? — he said, quietly.

— Yes, it’s fine. Just some pressure — Cassie whispered. She didn’t want to explain to him that nearly every woman knew the feeling of discomfort of the speculum, provided they got regular pelvic exams. However, for most, including Cassie, it was minor and temporary. Thankfully, the one her doctor was using now seemed to be made of plastic, so it wasn’t ice cold like it usually was.

A nurse positioned an ultrasound wand on Cassie’s lower stomach, and dark shapes appeared on the screen. 

— Okay, there is your bladder — she said — And there’s your uterus, underneath it.

Cassie and Toto both stared at the screen, but she felt strangely exposed. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful that Toto was there, but it was strange to have someone talk about your reproductive organs so casually in front of your boss, who was also your friend. But, she’d long accepted that awkward moments like this were part and parcel of having a child with your boss-and-friend via donor conception. 

— Are you ready, Miss Aldersey? — the doctor said — I’m going to start advancing the catheter to where it needs to go. It might feel uncomfortable for a moment, but I will work as quickly as I can.

— Yes, I’m ready.

A few seconds later, Cassie felt a sharp pinch, and hissed a little as she grit her teeth. Toto’s hand squeezed hers gently. 

— You’re doing so well, Cassie — he said, softly.

— Okay, the catheter is past your cervix, that is the hardest part — the doctor said — And… Let me just check my positioning, but I think we’ve arrived.

He glanced at the ultrasound, and, seemingly satisfied with his placement, attached the tube, and injected the embryo. The embryologist took a moment to check the test tube under the microscope to make sure that the embryo hadn’t “snuck back in”, as she put it.

— Okay, we are all set — the doctor said — It should be much easier coming out than it was going in. And… It’s out.

The nurse instructed Cassie to stay lying on the exam table for fifteen minutes as she wiped the ultrasound gel off of Cassie’s stomach. After that, she could change back into her normal clothes and she was free to leave.

— Now — the nurse said, as she threw the paper draping that had been covering Cassie’s legs — You don’t have to be on bed rest or anything for the rest of the afternoon, but do take it easy and relax. No strenuous exercise or anything for another day or two, and you can go back to your normal routine, work and such, tomorrow. It’s not going to fall out or anything of that sort, but keeping your stress levels low is recommended.

— Don’t worry, I’ll be taking care of her for the rest of the day — Toto said, smiling. 

After Cassie had been laying down the requisite 15 minutes, Toto drove her home and insisted that she settle on the couch for the rest of the day. 

— Toto, I’m fine! — she said, as he covered her with the throw blanket that was normally folded on the back of her couch — You heard the nurse, I don’t need to be on strict bed rest.

— Yes, but I also heard when she said you needed to take it easy and relax for the rest of the day, and I intend to make sure you do so. Now, I’m going to make you some tea.

Cassie watched him walk toward the kitchen, around the countertop island that separated her living room from her kitchen area.

— There’s a box of mint tea in the cabinet to the left of the refrigerator — she said. She couldn’t help but smile a little as a warmth spread from somewhere in her chest — No need for milk or sugar or anything. And feel free to help yourself to anything, if you’d like.

Toto busied himself preparing tea as Cassie watched. As he filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove to boil, Cassie almost did a double-take, as she was very certain she’d gotten a vision of him preparing a bottle. Once she thought she imagined it, though, the image stuck. It was like she was seeing the version of Toto that she’d seen in her dream. She watched him as he moved about her kitchen, imagining him with a little girl underfoot, chattering away as he prepared lunch. She imagined him laughing at the kind of silly jokes that five-year old children tell, and the warmth in her chest grew.

She stared at him, transfixed, as he crossed into the living room with two teacups in hand, handing one to her before sitting in the armchair near the couch. 

— Thank you — she said, letting the teacup warm her hands, breathing in the strong scent of mint. 

— Of course — Toto said — And let me know if you need anything else, of course.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Cassie decided to ask a question that had been at the back of her mind since they’d started this process.

— Toto?

— Yes?

— I’ve just been wondering… I told HR about my plans, you know… For the IVF and the treatments and things so I’d be able to get time off for my appointments and that, but… What are we going to tell them about, you know… Us? I didn’t mention who my donor was, or anything like that.

Toto looked thoughtful for a moment.

— Well, HR matters are, of course, confidential, and personally, I hadn’t intended to disclose our… relationship to anyone outside of work that’s on a need-to-know basis — he said — Plus, I don’t consider myself famous or anything, but I’m somewhat in the public eye, with having to talk to the press all the time, so I intend on not disclosing anything publicly that may have repercussions for you.  

Cassie looked at her cup, deep in thought. Maybe her expression was not the best because Toto soon added his explanation for that choice.

— I won’t disclose our relationship not because I’m ashamed of having a child with you, or will be ashamed of our child, but I intend to do all that I can to protect your privacy, and the privacy of our child. HR will know, just because of matters of paternity benefits, and it would be, ah, difficult to explain if it came out and they suspected that I was covering something up, but beyond that, nobody has to know. Unless you want people to know, of course.

That seemed reasonable to Cassie. There were another few moments of silence, and another question that Cassie had been wanting to ask.

— Can I ask you something else?

— Of course.

— What are you… Expecting from being a dad? I’ve just been thinking about what it would be like to be a mum since I started this, and I realized that it’s sort of hard to develop any expectations, when I’ve not done anything even remotely similar to this in my life.

Toto looked down into the teacup in his hands, and his face turned into a soft smirk.

— Well, I expect it to be a lot of work. I think it will be difficult, especially in the beginning when we’re both exhausted and our lives involve a lot of dirty diapers and spit-up, but, I think the amazing moments we will get to have will be worth it. To see them grow, their first steps, their first words, taking trips together… Of all of the memories we will make. Plus, I am looking forward to having a legacy, something to nurture and provide guidance to that isn’t a business or the team, it’s much bigger than anything I’ve done in my life so far, and I can’t wait to get started.

Cassie smiled as she listened to him talk, taking in the fond look on his face. He was right — she didn’t know what to expect, but she knew there was going to be a lot to look forward to, even despite the inevitable bumps in the road — messes, illnesses, the terrible twos, the fights over homework — but all of it would be worth it, especially if she would be able to give a child the kind of childhood and family that she wished she had gotten.

Toto took Cassie’s teacup as she was finished, but after drinking the warm tea, she was feeling relaxed, to the point of being a bit sleepy.

— I think I’m going to go and take a nap — she said, standing up and folding the throw blanket back up and putting it back over the couch where it belonged. 

— Sure. Do you want me to wake you up for lunch? — Toto asked.

Cassie thought for a moment, about the way Toto’s affection and closeness made her feel. She was curious what it would be like to…

— Actually… I have… Kind of a strange request. Well, maybe — she said. She felt her face heat with an embarrassed blush.

— Yes?

— Would you… Come and lay down with me? Just for a little while. I just — she looked down, studying the loops of fibers in the area rug in her living room — I like having you around, you know. For all of the appointments and the procedures and shots, it’s… All been easier when you’ve been with me, and… Toto looked a bit shocked by the request at first, his mouth hanging open a bit. But, as Cassie was scrambling to explain, that soft, fond look spread across his face, and she felt her stomach filling with butterflies again. 

— Of course I can. You can go in and lay down if you want, I’ll be in once I finish cleaning up in here.

Cassie felt like she was practically floating as she went into her bedroom, doing her best to let her body relax as she laid down, but the feeling of serenity she’d had had been replaced by anticipation. It wasn’t as if she’d asked him to sleep with her or anything, no — what she had in mind was perfectly innocent, some physical closeness after a day that they’d both been looking forward to, and all of the emotions associated with it.

She didn’t have long to be nervous though, as Toto came into the room, laying down on the other side of her bed.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they laid side-by-side, both of them staring up at the ceiling. Cassie could feel his presence, but she didn’t dare even glance at him. She felt his weight on the mattress, felt the heat of his body even though he was fully clothed, smelled the remnants of the cologne he usually wore but hadn’t put on today. 

— Do… You want me to hold you? — he said, softly. He sounded just as nervous as Cassie felt, but she was charmed by the request. It was so innocent, so simple, so tender. 

— Would you? — she asked softly, afraid her voice would break from the overwhelming emotion she was feeling.

— Of course. Roll over onto your side — Toto said, and Cassie did so. She felt him move closer to her, and felt his tall, muscular frame against her back. Toto slung his arms around Cassie’s waist, taking her left hand into his. After a moment, she managed to relax back into him, and sighed.

— Are you comfortable like this? — he asked. She felt his voice in her chest. It was deep, but still soft. 

— Yes. Thank you — she said — For everything.

It wasn’t long until Cassie’s eyes became too hard to keep open, her limbs becoming heavy with Toto’s warmth enveloping her.

Just before she drifted off completely, she felt Toto’s hand gently caress her lower abdomen over her shirt, where her womb would be. Where, hopefully, their baby would be settling in and setting up shop, preparing to spend nine long months getting ready for them.

— Whoever you are — Toto whispered — I hope you’re in there. I love you already.

#toto wolff #toto wolff fluff #collab #wlffog #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x oc #etlwlff

[val-daily]

Wednesday, 15 March 2023

Well Done:

I’ve wrote another ACA set of questions for this week, even though I had no desire, and could barely focus on the topic. Defeat and powerlessness in the face of family dysfunction.

I haven’t got upset because of my colleague low-spirits and grudging, I carried on nonetheless.

To Better:

I really avoided doing my ACA homework, I procrastinated and didn’t want to delve into the matter really deep. I shall do it a few days earlier so I can simmer the thoughts and ideas in my mind.

With a big order in my hands, I’ve overlooked how I got grappled by fatigue in the middle of the day. “Do not overstrain yourself to seem a good hardworking girl”

I’ve listened to few podcasts without any order, that was chaotic and mindless. Basically I’ve been listening to some noise. There was no pleasure or curiosity in it, only a habit. I better ask myself what do I really want to listen or maybe I should keep it quiet.

Delights:

When I went out of the workplace today, it was still light and fresh. Spring has come!

I ate a sausage roll like some piece of nostalgia for school years.

“Mike travels nowhere” YouTube videos.

#mental health #self healing #adult children of alcoholics #therapy #healing journal #therapy journal #healing #learning diary #eastern europe #english language #habits #bad habits #coworkers #perfect in every way #perfectionism #powerless #dysfunctional family #snow photography #melting snow #sunny winter

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Seventeen 

Word Count: 2k

Table of Contents 

I sat on the couch in the early morning while Jimmy cooked. The living room smelled like breakfast and spring, a mix of sausage in the pan and sweet wet air from the open windows. A breeze blew through every once in a while to rustle my book pages or tousle the curtains.

Lucy pooled in my lap and purred. She had been clingy the last few days, sticking to my side ever since Jimmy returned home. I think him being back was an upsetting change of pace. It's not that she didn't like him, she just wasn't used to him coming and going as he so often did.

Today I was scraping up the last bits of Walking by Henry David Thoreau. It wasn't a grating read like some of the other pieces of the same type but it was riddled with a familiar entitlement. The gist of the lecture was Thoreau's frustration with modern society and industrialization, of course, but with a terrible ting of toxicity. He wanted to leave modernity behind not for enlightenment, but for gain. He wanted to preserve his whiteness and reject a changing, more open-minded society.

Thoreau was also a terrible hypocrite. He said he loved nature but wanted to whack it all down to make pencils in the factory he owned.

I was disgruntled but pressed on anyway. I was determined to finish the laborious speech. I didn't like to leave things like that incomplete. It was better to see it through than let it rest unfinished.

But I was bored. The whole book was him pissing and moaning! I wished for a less whiney author. I sighed and set my book aside, opting instead to give Lucy a good pet. I was so comforted by her warm body and soft fur. Petting her made all of life's little annoyances slip away, just like a good kiss from Jimmy or even just his presence. I suppose that was love.

He called to me, just moments later, and informed me that breakfast was prepared. I was already back to the grindstone, reading the last bits of the lecture. Robert recommended I read it and I would never again trust his literary advice. I hated every second of this work.

Before I could finish my paragraph he was bringing our plates into the living room. His black and white apron was tied around his neck and waist. He scurried back into the kitchen as soon as the plates hit the tabletop.

He came back with a flower, a pink and white carnation. It was fragrant as he handed it to me, even more so when I pressed it to my nose. The seasons were changing, the grass coming back, and the flower buds popping open. The world was alive and breathing, finally awakened by the sun rolling around to this side of the globe.

"Thank you so much, I love it." I smiled up at him. I took the view of him in, admiring the softness of his skin. He was fresh, just like the flowers and trees outside of our windows. His trip had given rise to him, too.

"I'm glad," he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. It was hot, sweet honey on my lips. I couldn't get enough. He was leaning over me and I put my hands on his body, feeling his frame through his sweater.

"Thank you for that," I grinned like a goofball.

"Of course." He leaned forward once more and kissed me, another spark of sun against his rosebud lips.

Lucy must've been sick of her lack of attention because she climbed into my lap, interrupting our affection with a screeching chatter. We separated with a giggle. I appreciated the gift and he took a seat next to me.

We ate our breakfast slowly and quietly. Today there were no noises to bother us: no radio, phone calls, or guests. Today, the other bother was the malignant understanding that his time here was short. He was due to leave today.

His leaving was a shadow, an apparition that loomed around us as we sat together. The silence was thick and uncomfortable when I thought about him leaving, but sweet and recessed when I focused only on his apparent beauty. The finality of it all made him far more breathtaking. I was happy to admire him but I wished I could hold onto him longer.

As I held the carnation in my hand I soon realized why he'd brought it to me. He didn't know how alike he was to the sweet-smelling Mediterranian perennial, not consciously. His beauty was overwhelming and evident, his terminable lifespan crushing. He lasted only a short while in my hands, sure to die when the water supply is cut off.

I looked at him, pained, and tried to dull the ache in my heart. Now was surely not the time to reminisce on what was to come. I had enough to mourn him when he was gone.

"Could I ask you a favor?" He looked up at me over his newspaper, pulling me from my sadness. I raised a brow at his tone and nodded. "Usually I would go to the hairdresser, but my hair is a lot longer than the last time I went. I just don't know if I trust them to do a good job and-"

"Jimmy." I cut him off, signaling to end his rambling.

"Would you cut my hair?" He finished simply.

"Of course. Let me finish my breakfast." I shoved a piece of toast into my mouth.

He sat in a kitchen chair, tapping his foot nervously. A towel was draped around his shoulders. His dark locks dripped water from the long ends. I brushed it back into one unified length. "How much do you want taken off?" I asked, snipping my scissors in the air.

"Perhaps a few inches. I am sick of the length. It's constantly in my way and I never know what to do with it anymore." He sighed. It seemed like his hair was a genuine problem. The thought of him huffing and tossing it back behind his shoulder made me giggle.

"Are you going to laugh at me or cut my hair?" He asked in his feather-light voice. I laughed again and measured where to start cutting.

"How is this?" I asked, placing my hands at the length.

"Nah, that's too much. An inch or two lower?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll make it look nice. Don't worry about it."

"Well I can't help but worry. I don't know if I trust you with a pair of scissors." My eyes rolled again and I began cutting away at his hair.

When I was finished I stepped back to admire my handiwork. His hair littered the ground under us. It looked like a wretched rug. I smiled, taking in the sight of a short-haired Jimmy. I had never seen that.

"Does it look alright?" He asked nervously.

"It looks wonderful. Go look."

He jumped up from his chair and bounded into the bathroom. I swept up the hair while he checked out his new look. I hoped he would like it.

He came up behind me as I put the broom away. He hugged me. The heat from his chest radiatded onto my back. I could feel his heartbeat.

"I love it, thank you," he spoke softly in my ear.

-

We had tea an hour after breakfast. I finished Walking, a triumph to my dismay, as he set out the cups and saucers. We had biscuits, which he called scones. They were not. He dipped them in jam to increase their sweetness but I wasn't fooled.

I insisted on making the tea. He was taken aback by my persistence but allowed it nonetheless.

"This is good. You're getting better, y'know." He said as he took a sip from the cup. His lips molded to the lip of the ornately designed teacup. It was a different pattern than the white floral set, this one was smaller and a light blue color. He acquired this set from his mother and it always reminded him of home. I remember him telling me one night as we sat on the balcony watching the waves below.

I scoffed. "So you're saying I was bad at making tea before?"

His lips cracked into a smile like a split egg before it's dropped into a mixing bowl, "no, no, not bad per se... just not the best. You can't help it, you're an American!"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I think you're just intimidated by my skills. You're jealous."

He guffawed. "Yeah, yeah, that's it!"

We slurped our tea for another hour or so, enjoying the sweet tinge of honey on our tongues until the water ran tepid and the biscuits were gone. I could feel the air run stale as the time for him to go was rushing toward us.

His packed bags waited in the hall by the door, a crouching reminder of my loneliness to come. It was a bitter sight, something that pricked my skin like a pin left in a hand-stitched quilt. I wanted him to stay but I knew he had to go. It was unfair, but it was inevitable. I had said goodbye more times than I'd like to count and each one was a melancholy sip from a glass of saddening wine.

I knew it was time for him to leave when he turned to me, sighing, and looked at his watch. He spoke my name like a curse, it fell from his lips as such. His hand was on my knee.

"I have to go."

"I know," I said in a sad tone. I always knew when he had to go. I watched and waited for it, counting the beats and breaths until the last second. I should drink his presence, but I instead longed for it like a coming drought. My body was a wretched clock that always kept score. The metronome ticking of my heart was a constant sound that measured how much I was to be given.

He stood from the couch, his hands still entwined in mine. "I don't want to leave you, but I must." He made for the hall but I stayed latched to him.

"Do you have to go so soon?"

"Yes," he sighed once more, "G has sent a car for me. I can't make him wait. He'll be here any moment."

I stood to meet his height, now closer to the hall than I was comfortable with. I fixed his collar, smoothing down the thick fabric of his long coat. I was preening. "Look at my bigshot man, having a car sent for him."

He chortled. His nose crinkled with his grin, his cheeks crumpled where his lips met the rest of his face. When he smiled it engulfed his face. "Yeah, we're getting a lot of traction as of late. The shows are getting bigger and the fans are getting crazier. The venues are getting nicer, too. We're all pleased as punch." He finished in a silly voice, making me laugh.

His face was red, flushed with excitement. He's jittery like his bones are sharking from the sheer force of what is to come. I gave him one last kiss on the cheek and he made for the door. It opened with a squeak and then shut. Then he was gone.

Here it is again,

The leaving

The bumping, thumping

Pounding in my chest

The aching in my chapped hands

The bite on my lips as the coming cold settles in

Like leaves falling to the ground

Crunchy and yellow

You separated from my bough

And found your own path in the softer grass

You turned from my heartwood to look for sun falling on green-leafed crowns

Of black walnut trees

Here it is again,

The Leaving

The rushing, rolling

Waves in my eyes

The coolness of your touch

Leaving

The sting of hot tears on my waterline as summer sweat pricks my neck

Like a deluge from rain gutters

Wet and muddy

You clamored from me and collected at my feet

You galloped and gathered, taking a compass and a golden bowl

You came so suddenly

And left just as soon,

Like light from a bright Pisces moon

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin  

#jimmy page #jimmy page fanfiction #Jimmy Page smut #jimmy page fanfic #capricorn season #jimbert #jimbert fan fic #poem #writing #tumblr #classic rock

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Forgotten Ties - Chapter 8 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Skye sat down at a picnic table in the park under some large, shady trees and took out the can opener and his can of tuna.

He still didn't know how to use the can opener.

He had watched people do it but when it came to using it himself, he could never figure out the right angle of approach.

He genuinely tried to work it out for a little while but it didn't take long for him to get frustrated and resort to bashing the can of tuna with the can opener instead.

"Having trouble there?" a voice asked and Skye looked up to see an old man passing by with a small, white dog on a leash.

"Yes," Skye said as he gave the can another smack.

"Here, let me have a look," the old man said as he sat down on the other side of the picnic table.

He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket, put them on and took the can and the opener from Skye.

"Ah, this is one of those tricky ones. You know, you'll save yourself a look of bother if you spend a little more to get a decent can opener."

"I probably can't afford that. I need to save my money for sausage rolls."

The old man laughed.

"If you say so. Ah, here, I've got it figured out."

He handed the can back to Skye with the opener hooked into position on one side. "

You turn the handle. It's a bit stiff and I've got arthritis in my hands."

Skye twisted the handle and watched as the can opener started cutting the can open.

Excellent.

"Thank you. You're very good at can openers."

"I've used a fair few over the years."

"I like your dog," Skye said as he finally got the top of the can fully open. "One of my friends is a cute puppy dog."

"That's Peggy. I wasn't too keen on getting a little do, but that's what the wife wanted and now I love her. Having a dog that can bowl you over isn't good at our age."

"My dog friend is very big but I've never seen him push over any old people."

Skye stabbed his fork into the tuna and ate a big meaty piece of it.

"I like to kiss his furry head."

The old man smiled.

"Dogs are good for that."

"Old man, I have a confession to make."

Skye tipped his sunglasses down to reveal his bright green eyes.

"I'm not a human at all. I'm a cat-boy."

"Ah, all right then."

"Do you hate me now?" Skye asked around another mouthful of tuna.

"No, you seem like a good kid."

Skye nodded.

"I'm at least not a bad one, I would say. People should be nicer to me."

"People been a bit mean to you, have they?"

"Yeah but I'm kind of used to it, I guess. Things just feel a bit different now."

"Well, I've been around long enough to tell you that they are different now. Your lot have been around my whole life, but people have never been as scared as they are now. It's not going to be good for anyone if things keep going the way they have been."

"Hmm."

Skye scraped his fork around the inside of the can to collect the last few bits of tuna.

"It's hard because I don't know how to deal with things. I've always just... not."

"Well, you're young, aren't you? Kids your age never have things figured out. That's normal. You'll get there."

Skye was not young at all.

Or... was he?

He was never quite sure.

Skye eyed the inside of his empty tuna can and then stood.

"Okay, I'm going now. Bye, old man."

"My name's Bernard... Oh, okay," the old man said as Skye walked away.

As friendly as the old man had been, Skye really just wanted to be alone.

No, not wanted.

Needed.

At times like these, alone time was something he just couldn't do without.

Not that he'd ever tried but it felt that way.

He went for a walk around the neighbourhood but he kept passing people and sometimes they would look at him and sometimes even say hello.

Skye did not want this.

He did not want to be perceived.

He found his refuge in an inactive construction site for an apartment block.

There were lots of signs on the fence, and maybe some of them said to keep out but Skye couldn't read, so they didn't apply to him.

He scaled the fence and then climbed some scaffolding up into the skeletal building.

From up here, he could see everything but it all seemed so distant and inconsequential.

He just needed to rest for a little while.

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Words Hurt

Pairing: Chris Evans x Plus!Reader

Summary: People don't know how much their words affects others.

Warnings: body shaming

Before I get shit on for this, kindly note that I AM FUCKING PLUS SIZED & being body shamed by those close to you really fucking sucks. So, enjoy this miserable peace I conjured up. To all my plus sized lovelies out there, I'm sorry for all the shit you've been told in your lifetime about the size of your body <3

MASTERLIST

----

“Babe have you oh- nevermind, I found it!” Chris called out from all the way in the kitchen to his lovely lady; he had been rummaging the pantry for the past five minutes looking for the pack of double stuffed oreos and some other sugary candies for them both to indulge in during their movie.

Y/N however, spent all that time scrolling through the hurtful comments under her instagram post. Scott had taken the video of the two love birds at the beach of their family island getaway when they weren’t looking. Chris was giving her a piggyback ride as they walked along the shoreline, what was once a beautiful reminder of their time together is now tainted by the movie stars’ ‘fans’.

Before she started dating Chris, Y/N never viewed herself to be morbidly obese. Yeah she best knows she has a few side rolls, a tummy that never seemed to go away no matter how hard she tried to get rid of it and thick thighs that Chris loves to have his face buried between during their love making sessions but now, now she sees herself as the ‘fat cow’ that one of the commenters so boldly called her.

She always tried her best to steer clear of going through the comments but for some reason she was drawn to go through this one. That day she felt like a million bucks in her two piece swimsuit that she finally mustered up the courage to wear in public and Chris was her hype man, he was extremely proud of his girl for showing off her body, the body that he knows like the backs of his hands. Y/N is everything to him, he knows that she struggles with body dysmorphia and doesn’t see herself the way that he does but he wishes that she could.

“These are for you.” She was so lost in the sea of comments that she hadn’t noticed Chris’ presence next to her on the bed until he held the box of oreos over her phone screen. Faking a smile, Y/N hesitantly took the box and set it on her lap and locked her device.

“Everything okay?” She toyed with the edges of the box waiting for him to hit play on the movie they’re about to watch but Chris didn’t move to do so, he only stared at his girl confused at her sudden change in mood and behaviour.

“Mhmm, just peachy. Thanks for the oreos by the way but I’m not so hungry right now.” Y/N pushed the box of diabetes away from her and pulled the blanket up under her chin. From being all talkative and sassy before he left to get snacks, Y/N was now mum and closed off which confused him even more.

“You haven’t eaten anything for the day and don’t say you ate the grilled cheese I made for you because you barely picked at it.” He knows that something’s definitely not right but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’m fine, just not hungry. I shouldn’t be eating much sugar anyways, I wouldn't want to get bigger than I already am.” and that’s when it all fell into place.

“You’ve been reading comments.” Y/N couldn’t bring herself to respond, if she opened her mouth to speak, her voice would break and then the tears would flow from her eyes. She hates crying in front of him, she always said crying makes you weak and she’d hate to have her boyfriend see her at her weakest.

“People can be harsh sweetheart, you just have to keep ignoring them.” She scoffed, rolling her head to the side so she could look at him while they talked about this.

“Easy for you to say Evans, you have a toned stomach and have never known what it’s like to have sausage rolls or struggle to find the pair of perfect fucking jeans that can fit your waist and well shaped ass without a big ass gap in the waistband.” She sat up against the headboard even more riled up by the anger and sadness that mixed within her. She was angry at the ones that left those hurtful words and her body for not being a size ten or remotely resembling a Victoria Secret Angel.

“Nobody had to tell you that you need to lose weight or go on a diet because you look like you ate one of your siblings or you’re not ugly, you’re just fat and I don’t want to be seen with no fat bitch.” The last haunted her for years, her ex-boyfriend’s words had cut deeper than any knife could.

“Sweetheart.” Chris reached over to gently wipe away her tears that stained her face. In the year that they’ve been together he never once heard her lash out like that, he knows that she isn’t lashing out at him directly but she’s voicing everything that assholes she’s come across in life has said to her at some point.

“It’s so easy for everyone to say go lose weight but it’s hard, it’s not easy, especially for me. I try and try but nothing seems to work and it’s fucking frustrating. I didn’t ask to be like this and if I could snap my fucking fingers and have a completely different body, I would do it.”

“You don’t have to change for anyone, I love you the way that you are and that’s all that matters, not some asshole behind a fucking screen. You’re beautiful with your belly rolls and dark inner thighs, every single part of you is beautiful in my eyes Y/N.” Chris leaned over and pecked her lips three times and she calmed down, leaning into the warmth radiating off of him.

“If they have a problem with the way that your body looks, fuck ‘em. I get to love you all by myself.”

“Thank you Chris.” the couple snuggled closer together and he finally pressed play on the movie.

“You don’t have to thank me sweetheart just promise me that you won’t let their nasty comments get to you again, I hate seeing you like this.”

“No promises but I’ll try.”

“Not a definite answer but I’ll take it. Now,” With a big smile on his face, Chris retrieved the box she pushed away earlier and opened it.

“Open.” Y/N opened wide and he gladly fed her the sugary cookie that she loves so much.

“These are so fucking good, I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

----

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @panaitbeatrice @n3ssm0nique @mintphoenix @inas-thing @sketch-and-write-lover @friskae @bernthalbabe @trinkets01 @blackcat420 @justreadingficsdontmindme @bakingpotatoes21 @hardcoppizzasludge @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @chrisfucksblog @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @youarethereasonimsmiling

#chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x plus size reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x plus size reader

[babyboy-cody]

Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

#this was really soft #im soft #grayson’s soft #we’re all soft #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan #this one is for bubba because she deserves soft grayson 🥺 #grayson dolan fluff

[misskathcake]

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." - Chapter Two

The Second Serving of Cranberry Sausage Rolls 🎄

- Story Masterpost for the other chapters

“Oh my god, I think I’m in paradise.”

Sophia moans out together with Harry, their eyelids that have shut during their first bite, savoring the initial burst of flavor of the cranberry sausage rolls, open in an instant, locking at each other’s gaze of surprise at their exact same utterance of food pleasure.

“I knew you were my best friend for a reason!” Harry joyfully calls out, finishing his first roll in just two bites, and to be honest, Sophia isn’t far behind.

“I can’t argue with you on that note,” Sophia gladly reaches out on the box of cranberry sausage rolls in front of the two of them for her second one, “Thank the lord they’ve added tables and chairs to sit on around here. I don’t think I’m quite young to be going around the Christmas market without any time to rest my tired legs.”

“I’m the one with the bad back,” Harry shares around his second roll, third ready and waiting on his right hand, “and I’m not even complaining.”

“That’s because you’re already stuffing your face with pure goodness.” Sophia protests, shaking her hands together to remove any crumbs from the puff pastry of the sausage roll, “If we had waited just a few more minutes without already getting our favorite Christmas snack, you’d for sure be a right grump already.”

“Not true.”

“So is- hey!” Sophia does not hesitate to slap away Harry’s sneaky hand trying to get her third roll. The box only had six cranberry sausage rolls and they promised to share one box so they only got three each. “Don’t be greedy, bunny. The last one’s mine cause you already ate the last of your share.”

Harry narrows his eyes at Sophia, brows pulled together in contemplation as his right hand remained atop the last cranberry sausage roll on the sadly too empty box. Sophia arches her own brow at him, a look of challenge not missed on her features as her own dainty hand remained wrapped around Harry’s wrist trying to stop his earlier actions of deception.

“Fine.” Harry relents, bottom lip sticking out on a pout, “Why do you always get the last piece, anyway? Seems unfair to me.”

Sophia just giggles at Harry’s ridiculous act of petulance as she happily takes a bite of her cranberry sausage roll that she is the rightful owner of.

“Since when have I always been the person who gets the last piece of heaven?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs his shoulder from where he’s sitting in front of Sophia on the table, arms folded across his chest with his pout still going strong like the absolute picture of stubbornness, “like all the time our families have been here every Christmas? Better yet, the first time we ever met and you already got the last piece they sold that day. I don’t know about you, but that last point of mine already speaks volumes about your character.”

After Harry mentions that, Sophia can’t help but feel a surge of utter fondness take over her system every time someone mentions the day Harry and her had first met ever in their lives.

To reiterate an earlier thought, Sophia and Harry actually met in the same Cheshire Christmas Market that they’re visiting now, only back when they were young children whose only problem was to get the last order of the cranberry sausage rolls. That might still be a problem for present day Harry and Sophia, but the latter won’t cry because of it anymore.

Sophia can’t really remember anything clear that she might have done that day except for the moment she had first met Harry.

She remembers it was also Christmas Eve when her and her parents went to the Christmas market, but what she did specifically before asking permission and some cash from her parents to buy these heavenly rolls, has been lost from her memory.

It’s not the first time Sophia had ever been in the market, so after a few more of her impatient mumbling at her parents telling them to wrap-up their shopping for them to finally buy her sausage rolls she’s been whining for, Sophia’s parents allowed her to go to the stall herself. Since it was only two stalls across from where her parents were getting their items wrapped, Sophia and her parents all felt comfortable allowing her some little independence that she didn’t have much at that age.

Sophia remembers happily skipping her way to the stall, her parents calling out to tell her to be careful because it was lightly snowing and she might slip on the floor from all her excited energy.

She didn’t fall for the record, and had safely arrived at the sausage rolls kiosk with her cold gloved hands pressing close in awe at the glass display, containing the freshly baked treats.

Though she can’t say the same thing from the kid that seemed to run at full speed to the kiosk. Sophia still feels that woosh in the nippy air from how fast this kid had run, so fast that he almost slipped before finding his balance through also placing his hands on the glass case where Sophia’s hands were still smoothed over, feeling the heat of the freshly baked sausage rolls permeating the wool of her small gloved hands.

The kid that almost slipped turned out to be Harry.

But at that time, all Sophia knew about him was that he was the kid wearing a similar puffer jacket like her, only in a baby blue color while hers was in a soft dusty pink tone. Harry was pretty covered up from the cold winter weather like her, so Sophia remembers landing her eyes on his cherubic face.

Harry’s cheeks were rounded, flushed a light red due to the cold, little specks of snow had fallen on the tips of his nose, big green eyes filled with her same twinkling spark of elation as they stayed trained on the sausage rolls in front of them.

Sophia was so captivated by this young boy, interest had now fallen on the curls poking out his knitted cream beanie that she misses her turn to order, only breaking from her immersed state after the lady had replied to her that there were no cranberry sausage rolls left and the child beside her had already gotten the last box.

All the shimmering Christmas lights around her only intensified the sudden red that Sophia saw upon hearing those god-awful words.

Eyes narrowing at the vibrating excited nerves of a little bundled-up boy beside her, Sophia had seethed on his side profile, “But I was here first.”

The young boy had probably felt that the words were directed at him, a smiling gaze turning towards Sophia only to be replaced by an arch of the brow, “Na-uh, I was here first.”

The sass of his tone made Sophia frown, small arms crossing above her puffed jacket, “No, liar! I was here first! I saw you almost slipping before going here, so obviously I was already here first.”

The young boy’s expression turned to that of complete shock like she had just insulted him, “I’m not a liar! Only naughty boys are liars and my mummy said I’m not one! You’re the liar because I didn’t slip! I’ve been working on my balance with my sister because mummy said I can be quite clumsy!”

Sophia remembers feeling confused on what in the world was the kid talking about? A similar feeling she would often feel later on in the following years of her life. But his tone of accusation was what little Sophia had zeroed on, the harsh tone had only made her frown deepen, and don’t think she didn’t hear him calling her a liar.

“I’m not the liar here!” Sophia had defended in the same hard tone she had been using that any seven-year olds can be proud of themselves to have gained, “You could even ask the kind lady here and she’d say I was here first.”

The unwavering confidence in Sophia’s tone caught up on the young boy as the look on his face definitely suggested he knew Sophia was in the right there, that she’s the one being truthful in that moment.

But like many times after that fateful day, Sophia would learn how absolutely stubborn the young boy was.

“Well, maybe you were here first but I didn’t hear you order. So that means I still get the last cranberry sausage rolls, and that you’re still the liar!”

That had actually made sense to the young Sophia, her pout emerged just as her brows pulled even deeper together while she thought of something to say to the annoying boy who kept calling her a liar. It’s not good to be called a liar at that age, that’s basically one of the biggest sins one can commit at that age so there was no way Sophia was just going to let this boy tell lies about her character.

Sophia was a total angel at seven-years old. Complete with the blonde locks and melodious, high pitched voice.

But before Sophia could even reply back, the young boy had begun to remove his own frown and turned it into that of a mischievous smile before saying the most hurtful words that he could ever say to Sophia even years later now that they’re best friends for life.

“I really can’t be the liar here because my mummy said naughty boys don’t get gifts from Santa, so I’ve been a good boy because I want my pressies from Father Christmas.” and in the most way anyone can ever look, this kid arched his brow at Sophia condescendingly, “But I’m not sure if I can say the same thing about you because you’ve been lying and naughty liars don’t deserve cranberry sausage rolls, or gifts from Santa. So your cheeky attitude, as my sister likes to call it, doesn't deserve any baked goods, and your naughty behavior won’t get you any gifts from Father Christmas either. How sad?”

Sophia will tell you how.

It’s one thing to be denied access to cranberry sausage rolls, and a complete other horrendous thing to be told that she won’t be getting any gifts from Father Christmas! Seven-year old Sophia had basically been told that she’d committed the biggest sin in her Christmas bible and now she has to pay the consequences for something vile that she didn’t even do!

It’s not a shocker to anyone when big, fat tears begin to fall from Sophia’s eyes, and Harry should be downright alarmed for what he had caused.

The sinister part of Sophia today, does an evil laugh at remembering Harry’s panic-stricken expression once young Sophia had let the dams out as she sobbed her little, seven-year old crushed heart from the extremely mean things that young foolish Harry had said to her.

What always makes Sophia stop in her tracks when reminiscing this story, is when she remembers how her crying had ceased the instant young Harry had pulled her to his chest in a hug, just seconds later that he had caused the offending drops to begin with. She can still feel even years later, the abrupt shot of comfort that hug gave her, always gives her whenever they embrace today. The closest thing Sophia can describe the emotion is that her entire soul feels like it’s being blanketed by the finest knitted blanket, made out of the softest yarn that leaves tender touches on her skin like gentle fingertips tapping warmth on every inch of her cold surface.

It’s everything that her child wondered mind had the ability to focus on.

Sophia and Harry’s parents came to them not a few minutes later, she remembers hearing their concerned calls only to be brought closer on the young boy’s hold, her own arms circling back on his body when it still allowed her to do so easily as at that time, Harry was not yet the giant that he is today.

Everything seemed too much for little Sophia, not really registering anything except the young boy’s whispered apologies on her cold ears, her own body hiccupping from her earlier crying fit. She can’t even pin-point how they’re parents got them to disentangle from their hug, or how the boy had recapped what had happened to their parents on why Sophia had been upset.

The next thing Sophia can clearly distinguish was when the young boy introduced himself to her.

“I’m Harry.” his earlier mischievous glint had been replaced by an ethereal smile, glove covered hand extending to Sophia as if he hadn’t just been a complete little devil to her earlier.

The quick change was so bizarre to little Sophia that she let out a mixture of a hiccup and a squeak which resulted in little giggles coming out of Harry’s mouth. Sophia returns his giggle when Harry waves his still extended hand at her, reminding her that she had yet to introduce herself.

Smiling now despite her apparent red and blotchy face from crying, Sophia returned Harry’s handshake as she replied, “I’m Sophia.”

And just like everything that had occurred after Harry had made her burst into tears, Harry acts as if nothing of such had even took place as he easily placed his small arm around Sophia’s shoulders making them both face the kind lady behind the sausage roll stand who had been watching their entire exchange (how embarrassing, Sophia of today now thinks) and Harry had said to the lady:

“Hi! I’m still going to get the cranberry sausage rolls, please. But I’m going to give it to Sophia here because I’ve been really mean to her and mummy says I should never be unkind to anybody and say mean things even if that means I can’t have my share of cranberry sausage rolls.”

In Sophia’s opinion, that had been the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her at the darling age of seven. She can’t say it’s the sweetest thing Harry had ever told her like ever, she does particularly think that having ‘cranberry sausage rolls’ in the sentence just can’t be justified as the candy sugary thing he had said to her in the entire time they’ve known each other.

Regardless, that statement had been the stepping-stone to their friendship as Anne invited them to dinner that night as a form of apology from her son’s actions.

And that had been that.

Present day Sophia and Harry fastened their eyes on each other once again after Sophia had reminisced the first time they met years ago. But since they have this weird connection where both of them at random times of the day seem to just have an excellent grasp on what the other is thinking, Harry continues Sophia’s train of thought like he was just going down memory lane right beside her.

“And after that dinner mum had done in apology for my foolish actions, I continued to be stupid and let you hold me captive for the next how many years.”

Sophia laughs, “How very dare you. If there was anyone holding anyone captive, it'd be you.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry shakes his head, growing angelic locks swaying along the movement making him run a hand through them to smooth the curls away from his eyes, “I was the angel that gave you the last box of cranberry sausage rolls.”

“Only because you had ruined my Christmas Eve that year!” Sophia defends with utmost conviction. “You’re no angel if you’ve done something out of pure guilt.”

“And that’s exactly my point!” Harry triumphs, making Sophia totally confused once again because he just agreed to her without any fight.

“What’s your point there, bunny? You literally just admitted that I’m the angel in this friendship, and you’re the devil that ruined my sweet, seven-year old’s Christmas Eve.”

“You wish!” Harry snorts, putting all their rubbish on the empty sausage roll box, “What I’m trying to say is that you just admitted that you always get the last of the cranberry sausage rolls.”

Of course that’s what he had been referring to, it’s not like Sophia had just gone for a long tangent about how they met in her head and became slightly sentimental about their friendship and how even back then, there were already signs of how much Harry would mean to her.

Of course it didn’t matter that she just realized how much that first fateful day made everything much clearer that Harry was someone special in her life, and it’s totally not the platonic type of special.

“Is it my fault though if you willingly give me the last piece all the time?” Sophia questions, her own hands running up to fix her hair in an attempt to shake her thoughts away.

That makes Harry think for a moment, Sophia giggling when he begins to do that thing with his thumb and index finger, squeezing his bottom lip when he’s in deep thought.

“I think it depends,” Harry slowly draws out, “because what if I don’t actually willingly give it, and you’re just forcing me to do it without me knowing that you are coercing me into doing it.”

Guffawing at his ridiculous statement, Sophia replies, “How can I even coerce you to do something for me without you knowing I was doing it?”

Harry casually shrugs, “I don’t know.” and then he gives her this cheesy smile that he always does when something incredibly sappy comes out of his mouth, “Maybe it’s your undeniable love that’s making me do it without me knowing I’m already giving you the last piece of heaven.”

Rolling her eyes every time Harry says something even remotely sickeningly syrupy, Sophia responds with a soft smile still etched on her face. “I think it’s more that you love me undeniably so you’ll willingly give me the last piece of heaven, no coercion needed.”

Harry’s reply after that, makes Sophia bolts out and off her seat to drag the laughing Harry to the skating rink without any time to spare for all the butterflies he had just unknowingly awoken inside her belly.

“Of course, I love my sunflower baby.”

Fuck. Sophia was actually blushing.

“Bunny, come here, please! Tie my skates for me.”

Sophia smiles innocently up at Harry while sitting on the bench waiting for him to drop to his knees and follow her request, her skates already waiting for him on the ground.

Harry chuckles, eyeing her in amusement, “And why would I do that?”

Sophia blinks her lashes extra fast for it to be anything but innocence, “Because I’m your best friend and you care about me.”

“Try again,” Harry smiles with his arms crossed on his chest, Sophia noticing his own skates already laced on his feet, the quick bugger.

Sophia shows her pearly whites and honestly replies this time, “Because the Harries need an updated footage of you tying someone’s skates like that in the Night Changes music video.”

Harry looks as if he did not expect that answer, brows pulling close on his forehead probably thinking back to what he did at that specific 1D music video. Sophia swears Harry has locked that certain part of his life away at the recess of his mind, not even able to give Sophia an answer when she had once asked if she could borrow that suit he wore for the 2015 AMAs to wear at the first nights of Love on Tour.

Harry had seriously asked her in total confusion what suit she was referring about, like what the fuck? Harry Styles who loves all his fancy suits like his own little infants, can’t remember that iconic, white floral Gucci suit that gave the Harries the first taste of what was to come on the start of his solo era? That’s bloody preposterous!

Thank heavens Harry Lambert had come and saved the day. Sophia ends up wearing the suit, minus the pants because it can’t fit her waist and Sophia’s not one for public indecency, unlike Harry with his tits out for thousands to see.

The first show of Love on Tour had Sophia preening in all the acclaim and compliments people gave her (and they remember where the suit came from, hah!) despite Harry’s protests that all praises should be thrown at him because it was his tour, thus he was the only star of the show. No matter what he kept on saying though, Sophia still felt the all-night stares of Harry on her form, dressed in his suit, every time they were in the same room. His green orbs filled with silent praises that can’t compete with any kind words that Sophia had gotten that night.

Harry’s unrelenting looks of fondness and appreciation was definitely no good for Sophia’s pining heart, but give the girl a rest is what she thought. That night in Vegas, Sophia did not give a fuck if she basked in Harry’s sweet glances and rapt attention with an air of casualness than her usual frenzied state.

“Sunflower,” Harry chuckles when it finally clicked on his grandpa-like head, “you’re so odd sometimes.”

And you're always forgetful, is the tip on Sophia’s tongue, stopping herself from teasing Harry or they will take ages before he finally accepts her request. “Whatever you want to say, bunny. My toes are waiting for some loving.”

Sophia raises her feet slightly, wiggling her toes just the same with her eyebrows in a ridiculous manner making Harry chuckle at her attempt at being hilarious.

Harry sighs before slowly crouching down on his knees, “The things I do for you, really.”

“Correction, for me and the Harries, bunny.”

Sophia just giggles as Harry begins to gently take her polka dotted sock-covered feet and places it inside her rented skates. Sophia delightfully opens the camera application from her phone, telling Harry to pose for pictures while tying her silver laces.

“I don’t think I was even posing in that video, sunflower.” Harry lightly chides when Sophia asks him for the fourth time to do cute poses for the camera.

“Well at least you were smiling there,” Sophia notes, bending over a little to fix the longer curls on Harry’s head that are falling on his eyes, head bent low attending to Sophia’s skates. “Come on, bunny. Just smile for me, please?”

Harry sighs once again, but Sophia does not deter from her conviction of getting Harry to smile for her camera when she sees the unmistakable entertained little curve on Harry’s lips.

“It is the Christmas season of giving after all,” is all Harry says before he finally indulges Sophia’s wishes and does his usual charming and adorable cutie face for her camera.

It’s times like this that Sophia thinks she can honestly survive this Christmas alone with Harry because wanting more didn’t seem to be something that pressing.

When you got Harry Styles tying your shoelaces for you with little to none convincing to accomplish, do you really still need more than that when he’s already doing boyfriend-y things whilst unknowingly?

The Harries seem to think it’s adequate enough as they quickly flooded Sophia’s IG account with messages of thanks for always giving them the ‘best holidayboyfriend!H content’ just after a few minutes of posting it. Sophia on the other hand, falls once again to her own answer: definitely not good enough as she wistfully watches Harry allow himself to get flirted on by the lady on the skate renting kiosk as he went ahead to give their boots for keeping.

If Sophia had more, she wouldn’t need to see such a saddening sight because Harry would not be leaving her side to easily get flirted on like that.

Before Sophia can even shoot daggers towards the irresponsible flirting lady who should be doing more working than eye-fucking, Harry suddenly appears by Sophia’s side, easy smile adorned on his lips.

“Ready to head inside the rink?” He asks, pointing towards the entrance of the circular rink where quite a few are already having a good time skating and swirling around.

Sophia nods her head, trying to school her previously frowning face to mimic Harry’s smile, “Lead the way.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, most probably using his sixth bestie sense that they both got before shrugging his shoulders when he didn’t see anything much odd on her features. Sophia quietly sighs in relief at that, turning one last time to the flirting lady a while ago to give her a squint of her eyes to show her displeasure at the lady’s earlier actions, before walking beside Harry while trying to match his big gigantic strides.

Upon their entrance, Sophia has regained her bright, cheery, and Christmas appropriate demeanor as she gives Harry a cheeky expression, one gloved hand (Harry had forced her to buy some despite her protests of it being a fashion disaster with her current outfit) out-stretched towards Harry in invitation.

“Come here, bunny, hold my hand.”

Harry lifts a brow at her request, dimpling confusedly before following as he laces their both gloved hands together. “What’s this one for this time? Going to film me while we held hands and as I go skating in front of you like the one in the music video as well?”

Sophia shrugs, tilting her head in a look of innocence, “Not really. I just think it’s necessary to hold your hand while we’re skating knowing how your Bambi legs operate on the daily. No matter how long they are, they’re not meant for skating, bunny.”

The clear rib on her tone is not lost from Harry’s ear, the latter breaking-off their hold dramatically. “Oh bugger off! I can fucking skate just fine.”

Sophia laughs loudly at the prominent defensive tone of his voice, “I’m just trying to be careful! No amount of your growth spurt can ever make you outgrow your clumsiness.”

“For fucks sake.” Harry shakes his head in faux annoyance as Sophia continues laughing wholeheartedly without a care of anyone around them, hands on her knees type of glee. “You go calm yourself down while I show you how much of a fab skater I am.” and then he was out skating away with a little wave left for a still giggling Sophia, her cackling laughter returning when Harry abruptly turned around to flip her the bird.

Truth be told, Harry actually isn’t shit at ice-skating. When they were still youngsters and had the time to visit their local ice rinks on the weekends, Harry was the one plastered at Sophia’s side because the latter is actually the one who’s crap at ice-skating.

Harry made sure he had some hold around Sophia the entire time, the latter once again failing to notice how even in those early stages of their friendship, the security and ease Harry’s touch had given her compared to anyone else who had helped her, was a clear indicator that he’s simply something more to her.

Though soon after, Sophia took skating lessons just for the fun of it and despite petulantly missing Harry’s attentive and securing touch on her, the lessons definitely paid off as she joins Harry’s little show-off contest right now.

“That’s unfair! You can’t use techniques from your ice-skating classes!” Harry calls out after Sophia had flawlessly nailed a simple ice-skating sequence she’d learned before and thankfully had not forgotten just to get the chance to see Harry’s ridiculous pout.

“It’s absolutely fair because I never said you learning how to play the guitar was unfair because you didn’t tell me you were going to.”

Sophia’s reply only made Harry pout deeper, “You’re only saying that cause you’re still bitter you didn’t get to spend extra time with Niall unlike me who he taught the basics of guitar playing.”

“Now don’t go rubbing it in!” Sophia gasps as she skates towards Harry’s standing figure at the edge of the rink, taking place beside him, “You know how jealous I get when it comes to sharing that blonde one.”

Harry just rolls his eyes at her, an amused quirk to his pink lips nonetheless, “Well I promise to stop if you promise to have our last five minutes here already cause I’m bloody knackered, sunflower.”

Sophia merely nods, watchful eyes already seeing the lines of tiredness painted on Harry’s flushed face from the cold weather, “Promise, bunny. As long as you also promise we head to dinner right after.” her covered hands go directly to rub her tummy, “I’m quite peckish already.” she pouts.

Harry giggles at her actions, raising a hand towards her direction, “Alright, I promise baby. Let’s seal it then.”

And like the utter children that they are, Sophia returns Harry’s handshake with the utmost look of seriousness reflected on their faces to signify the importance of sealing their promises. It was only proper that they also burst-out in rambunctious laughter because even the most miniscule of things are funny to them, before they turned around and skated for the last few minutes.

This time around, Harry didn't need Sophia to offer her hand for him to take.

Harry just didn’t let go of her hand as they glided on the frozen ice, pure joy bubbling in Sophia’s chest whenever Harry squeezed their clasped hands as if to remind her that, ‘Hey, I’m here, sunflower. I’m not going to let you fall no matter how much of a Bambi I can be. I promise I’m here.’ like all the other times he did at times when Sophia felt so unsure on her own two feet.

Harry made her feel comfortable again, there’s nothing more she can wish for.

Harry likes to be humble in all regards. Earning millions for single shows and guestings can surely be enough to overflow his naturally narcissistic tendencies. With that being said, Harry tries his best to surround himself with things or people that remind him to be grounded. All those have worked in his favor, and there’s never a time Harry had ever exemplified any arrogant action towards Sophia except when it’s done in jest.

The only situation that Harry can actually be just a smidge cocky, is when he takes his loved ones out to some amazing restaurant. He places the reservation under his name that never fails to make him let out a proud smirk whenever the receptionist of the restaurant would call-out, ‘Harry Edward Styles?’ It’s really the only time Harry likes his full name to be said allowed.

Usually, hearing his full name comes in the form of a shout. Never a good sign that one, often it’s Anne or Sophia being cross with him for his usual cheeky escapades. At least it helps in making Harry feel more grounded despite Sophia totally detesting ever feeling upset with her best friend.

Tonight was no different. Harry’s too-proud reply of ‘yes’ matched with his winning smile is exhibited in front of Sophia as tonight’s restaurant receptionist said his full name to check if it was the correct information.

Sophia let’s Harry have his moment of slight arrogance, eyes wandering around the cabin-like atmosphere of the restaurant. She tries to lower down her smile when Harry reaches behind his back, asking Sophia to hold his hands. They follow the receptionist just like that to their table, Harry in front of Sophia with her pressed closely to his back and their hands woven comfortably together.

Sophia gives her thanks to the ever gentleman Harry who pulls a chair out for her before taking his own seat in front of Sophia. She’s not going to lie, all the shopping around the Christmas market, swirls and glides on the ice rink, and the short walk they had to take to go to this restaurant, had made Sophia tired. The restaurant Harry reserved a table for, was just across the entrance of the Cheshire Christmas market, but Sophia isn’t young anymore and effects of jet-lag are not easy to remove despite a whole day of hibernation completed.

Sophia makes sure to place her phone on the surface of the table, having placed an alarm for when they should head back to the Christmas market. The tree lighting of the massive pine tree in the center of the market was due to start in about two hours, Sophia reminding that fact to Harry as they browsed the menu.

“A classic Christmas Eve chicken roast with roasted veggies of potatoes, parsnips, carrots, and beetroots, and with three servings each of Yorkshire pudding?” Harry reads aloud to Sophia, the two of them always having the same choice of Christmas Eve dinner.

“How about a basket of Yorkshire pudding?” Sophia suggests knowingly, making Harry chuckle at the truth behind her words.

“You’re not making this easier for us,” Harry notes, “we already ate a box of sausage rolls earlier.”

“And?” Sophia arches a brow in question, “We both know we’ll still end up ordering another three servings each of Yorkshire pudding once we finish our first three.”

Harry nods his head in agreement, albeit with a dry smile. “My trainer is going to kill me for this sunflower.”

Sophia snorts, “Bunny, it’s Christmas! Eat all the fucking carbs and sweets you want. Better yet, I’d send a picture of our dinner with the basket of Yorkshire pudding to your trainer to show him how much he has starved you.”

Harry laughs at that, raising his hand to call for the waiter. “You don’t even have his number.”

“Wouldn’t stop me.” Sophia confidently shares, “I’d have a word to whoever has kept my bunny away from his bread.”

Harry just shakes his head at her words, the craters on his cheek made prominent by the soft look he’s throwing her way. It gives Sophia time to breathe and not melt on her seat when the waiter that Harry called finally arrived to take their orders, gladly letting Harry take the lead on that one.

Looking around the restaurant and its other patrons, Sophia notes that tonight’s warm atmosphere is the perfect in-between of not being in a fine dining setting, but not one of a rowdy pub either. Sophia finds it to be the ultimate balance fit for her taste.

Tonight’s restaurant allows her the reprieve of not always having to check her posture while eating, nor have the ardent pressure placed on her to know what utensil to use for what specific dish, like in a lot of the places Harry had brought her to before. At the same time, Sophia feels comfortable that she can pop a few buttons of her leather trousers later when the food coma settles in, but she wouldn’t be exactly at ease to burp without a care in the world like what normally happens to her when Harry takes her to a pub and feeds her every greasy item there.

“You pick a good place tonight, bunny.” Sophia shares to Harry after their orders have been taken.

“You haven’t even tasted the food,” Harry replies, which Sophia disregards since it did not miss her attentive eyes how Harry had preened at her compliment for his good choices. The ever people pleaser this man is.

Sophia wasn’t in the mood to take the piss out of Harry after he had deflected the compliment, preferring to converse with him about the last bits of his tour that he had yet to share with her since they’ve both spent their first day back together in bed, cuddling in sleep. She lets Harry talk her ears off about all the backstage shenanigans that occurred between him, the band, and the crew, casually mentioning all the times he’d ‘kindly abducted’ baby Rowland without informing Mitch or either Sarah that he wanted to babysit the newborn.

“I only had pure intentions, sunflower.” Harry defends when Sophia questions the morality of his statement, “I wanted the two of them to have some rest since I know baby Rowland can be quite the menace at night time. Besides, it’s not my fault baby Rowland distracted me with his adorable arm rolls that it completely lost my mind to inform his parents that I was taking him out with me on a walk. Baby Rowland’s arm rolls are simply delectable looking, sunflower! You won’t question me again if you saw it yourself.”

Sophia giggles, still slightly bewildered at Harry’s story, “I’m really going to have a word with your trainer if you found an innocent infant’s arm rolls delectable.”

Harry laughs with his green orbs rolling, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“So you weren’t thinking of bread rolls or anything?”

Harry’s eyes widen while releasing a loud cackle, “Baby! I’m not exactly the witch from Hansel and Gretel who will eat innocent children like some cannibal. Who do you think I am?”

Sophia catches their order being walked to their table before replying, the perfect time really. “A person who’s too kind to eat innocent infants and really, really nice that he’d give his best friend one of his Yorkshire puddings.”

Her own demure smile clearly does not work as Harry quickly snatches the basket of Yorkshire pudding from the waiter’s tray, obstructing Sophia to reach for them.

“Not a chance, lady!”

Sophia has no room to push her argument as her entire attention begins to be pulled by all the Christmas Eve roast amazingness placed on the surface of their table.

Similar to everything in their friendship, Christmas roasts are also a symphonic task to both Sophia and Harry.

Like clockwork, they push their big plates in the middle of the table. Sophia goes first in practiced ease as she transfers all the beetroot on her plate to Harry’s, and then Harry does the same by placing all his parsnips to Sophia’s own mound of food. After, Harry begins to pour some of his gravy on the assortment of food on his plate, delightfully handing the little gravy pitcher to Sophia, saying her thanks as she pours the remaining on her plate combined with the contents of her own small pitcher.

As per tradition every meal, Sophia meets Harry’s waiting puckered lips that’s reaching for her temple on top of their table, tilting her head for his lips to kiss her there, Sophia’s own nose coming down to brush affectionately at the side of Harry’s in an Eskimos kiss like earlier this morning in the bungalow.

After that sweet gesture, Sophia and Harry began to ignore each other for the pile of holiday goodness in front of them.

Sophia doesn’t know how others do it. Harry and her simply can’t be conversing while eating the mouth-watering Christmas roast. How can they savor the rich flavors of it all if they’re blabbering their mouths to each other? Harry can wait to tell his jokes, and Sophia can take a break from the tedious cycle of taking the piss out of Harry or pining ridiculously over him.

Conversation between the two of them only resumed when Harry had burped loudly, Sophia had wiped her greasy lips with a napkin, and when the both of them popped a button from their own too-tight trousers when the food belly made out of Christmas tastiness began to show.

“I’ve reached the finish line,” Sophia breathes out blissfully, “I survived another Christmas Eve dinner!”

Harry giggles in reply, one of his hands splayed on his bloated stomach, “I’ve begun to show.” he notes before burping once again, “It hasn’t even been an hour after I made love with my savory roasted chicken, had the pleasure of tasting the sweet kiss of the beetroots, and oh god, I can’t forget about the supple touch of my Yorkshire puddings, and now our baby is showing in my stomach. Sunflower, look.”

Sophia tries to control the intensity of her laughter, Harry’s crazy antics is not good for her full stomach. “I can’t believe you just moaned and referenced sex in the presence of all the families here. The children, H.”

“Is in my stomach, I know.” Harry replies nonchalantly, ringed hands rubbing on said body part. “I wonder if mum was also this swollen when she was carrying me in her womb.”

Sophia snorts at his actions, “You’re not actually pregnant. That’s just the food coma hitting you bad and messing with your head.”

“You’re just jealous that my baby bump is bigger than yours.” Harry chides childishly, making Sophia scoff. “Sunflower, let’s show each other our bumps, come on. Let’s be like those mums that take prenatal yoga together.”

Sophia squawks a noise, “Bunny! I’m not doing that, stop being ridiculous!” The perfect distraction for Harry’s persistence comes to Sophia as the surface of her own bloated stomach hits her Gucci bag resting on her lap.

“Oh, the Christmas Crackers!” Sophia lets out, fetching out the pointed edge that nudged her stomach inside the sleek black bag. “Bunny, let's exchange before we head back to the tree lighting. Goodness knows I cannot walk in this state just yet.”

“I agree,” Harry says while reaching inside his coat pocket that’s behind the extra chair on their table, “Little Chicken and I refuse to waddle on the cold streets of Cheshire.”

“I’m not even going to ask why you just named your food baby, but alright!” Sophia claps her hand in unrestrained excitement, smiling brightly at the similarly beaming Harry before they exchange Christmas Crackers over their obliterated Christmas Eve dinner table.

This was another part of Christmas that made Sophia second guess herself when she made the definite decision to spend it alone, a hundred miles away from Harry in the hopes of sparing her bemoaning for more heart.

As part of their celebration in this season of gift giving, Sophia and Harry had made a tradition of getting their own Christmas Crackers customized for each other after they had the means to go the extra mile and replace the truly saddening, generic Christmas Crackers they had growing up. This way, Sophia could receive something better than a keychain, and Harry can write whatever joke he wants, and how many.

He once did 25 jokes equaling 25 pieces of folded paper within the cylinder cracker and Sophia had almost thought he had given her something extra special (like a miniature Gucci bag, perhaps?) from how hefty it looked. She just ended up being slightly disappointed when it was nothing but festive colored pieces of paper that were no better than the napkins Harry scribbled Sophia’s dad jokes on.

Thankfully that this year, there was only one piece of a gold folded paper that fell on the table when Harry gladly helped her pull the other end of her Christmas Cracker he had made specifically for her, the popping sound making them flush in festive cheer. She returns the gesture to Harry’s own cracker that she got freshly made in Australia. But unlike Sophia who then places her folded paper at the side to read last, Harry keenly reached for his red one and focused all his attention there.

Sophia waits for Harry’s reaction before she takes a good look at the contents of her Christmas Cracker. She doesn’t regret her decision when Harry’s previous smile of excitement quickly morphed into that of horror when he read, or did not read, the red paper from Sophia.

“Sunflower!” Harry gasped as if scandalized, “Why is there no joke?! Like there’s nothing written on it! Do I have to go down under to complain myself about this rubbish job they’ve done on my Christmas Cracker?! This has to be some sort of mistake!”

Forget about Sophia’s bloated stomach as she lets her howling laughter take her senses in absolute glee at Harry’s extremely perturbed face. “No, it’s not a mistake. I really instructed them to leave it blank.”

“What?!” Harry exclaims with the look of horror on his face multiplied to a hundred, “Why the fuck did you do that?! Are you nuts?!”

Sophia motions for him to quiet down since she really didn’t want to disturb the families dining along them as she herself tries to calm her on-going laughing spree.

“I’m not nuts,” Sophia defends despite the look of doubt in Harry’s face, “I just wanted to have a laugh myself this time around. You’re always the one shitting your pants from laughing at the jokes I give you, and it only gets amplified when you let me read mine like you’re not that one that gave it to me. It’s good I finally had the taste of what laughter on Christmas Eve feels like.”

Sophia winks at Harry to show some sort of appreciation for taking part in her plan (unknowingly, of course) but the man just gives her a deadpan look.

“You just ruined my Christmas Eve. It’s done for, gone.” Harry harrumphs with arms raised in dramatics before he begins to pointedly ignore Sophia who’s still giggling in her seat.

Harry’s ignoring act only lasts for a couple of seconds though. He’s back to giving appreciative coos to Sophia as he took the time to assess the goodies Sophia had given him this year.

There’s nothing traditional in the Christmas Crackers they got customized except for the little joke folded in a paper. Everything else after that, is unique to them which can be seen as Harry toys around his fingers the new snowman-printed little plastic clips that Sophia gave him with the thought of Harry’s growing chocolate curls in mind. Amongst the little tidbits that Sophia had gifted Harry from a few glitter guitar picks to a miniature crochet rainbow as a case for his AirPods, Harry takes the most giddiness at the koala charm that Sophia had bought in one of the local jewelry stores in Australia.

“Why isn’t there no chain?” Harry pouts at Sophia who has taken her time to watch Harry’s reaction to everything she had given without taking a peek on her own pile of small goodies from Harry.

“Because you never actually take-off your cross necklace so I thought there was no point in giving you a chained-necklace when you don’t like the layering look that much.”

Harry smiles that one they give each other when they want to express, ‘you know me so well, how?’ without really expressing it verbally.

“Then how am I supposed to wear this then?”

“You just attach it to the chain of your cross necklace, gimmie.” Sophia makes grabby hands at Harry’s chest where the infamous cross necklace familiarly rests.

Harry doesn’t waste any time unclasping it from the back of his neck and handing it easily to Sophia’s waiting hands. Her little fingers take no time at all as she expertly slots the end of the chain to the small hole on top of the koala charm. Smiling proudly, Sophia hands Harry’s necklace back to him, telling him to wear it again so they can see the final product.

“Oh, how adorable.” Harry coos with his head dipped downwards, index finger coming up to stroke the back of the koala charm like it actually is a real animal in need of some gentle petting. “Thank you so much, sunflower.”

The undeniable tone of sincerity combined with the soft tone and look on Harry’s smiling face was enough threat for Sophia to duck her own head down so as to not damage her poor combusting heart. She’s not made to withstand this amount of keen attention from Harry after months of her trying to get herself immune from it through the acts of gradual withdrawal of too much contact with the star-eyed boy.

Sophia finds her ultimate escape from getting sucked-in the wonderful pools of green gems that are Harry Styles’ eyes when her downturned eyes catch a glimpse of some of Harry’s gifts for her from the Christmas Cracker he customized.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sophia slowly says with a voice of incredulous fascination, picking up with her finger the item in question.

“Yup!” Harry nods in a gleeful manner as Sophia begins to inspect probably the oddest thing Harry had ever given her. “An air freshener with my face on it! Isn’t that so genius? I had to ask Jeff where they got them so I had some extra made for you.”

“Well, aren't I special?” Sophia mutters sarcastically, “Why in the world do you have your annoying mug on an air freshener, of all things, to begin with?”

“In which angle do I look annoying there?” Harry asks with a confident grin, “I’ll even go ahead and say that my team chose a rather flattering picture of me for the air freshener.”

You always look flattering, Sophia’s traitorous mind supplies when Harry just can’t stop with his slow drawl and answer Sophia’s question before she starts thinking into tricking herself that she really is so special to have received a one of a kind Harry Styles air freshener. Again, of all things rare it’s this one she feels super special about.

“They used some of it for the little Love on Tour vintage van display I had in some of the venues,” Harry supplies as an answer to Sophia’s question. “But, I did make sure to change the scent on yours to that of a lavender one cause I know you like those and they make you feel calm.”

“That is true,” Sophia agrees despite wanting to just plainly be weirded out instead of the fondness trying to seep in her skin at the fact that Harry remembers that she liked lavender scents when having a slight obsession of hoarding different aromas of scented candles would make it difficult for Harry to remember that information.

But of course, he’s just the best at making Sophia’s heart leap out of her chest at the most random of times!

Sophia can’t let Harry know that though, let her have her last Christmas Eve before she lets Harry do the mushiest shit to take the last blow on her weak heart.

“Though I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Sophia clears her love-crazy thoughts aside, “I don’t want to particularly get too calm on the roads that I end up falling asleep and then crashing my car on the next lamppost or something tragic like that.”

Harry merely shrugs, “Nah, I don’t reckon so. Just put your car on self-driving mode, that would do the job.”

Sophia looks at him confusedly, not the first time today that she’s been having the same expression, “What are you talking about? My car does not have that fancy option and you know it Mr. Multimillionaire who doesn’t like cheap sports cars and would rather buy the real, expensive, vintage vehicles.”

When Harry does not take the obvious door for him to take the dig on Sophia having less monetary means than him, Sophia starts to get suspicious. Her worries are not made better by the coy look that flashes on Harry’s face, bottom lip being captured by his teeth like he’s hiding something from her.

And then it clicks.

“Harry Edward Styles, if you got me a fucking Tesla for Christmas I will actually consider ruining your Christmas for good, like it’s going to be your last Christmas ever.”

Instead of getting Harry to fess-up and feeling threatened like Sophia had wished, Harry only whistles teasingly, “Saying my whole name twice in a singular day? I think that’s a new record for you, sunflower.”

Groaning, Sophia continues, “And I’ll say it for the rest of your life, which is ticking down every second that you don’t answer my question about you buying me fucking expensive shit that I don’t need.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if I did.” Harry smarts back with a wink.

“Considering I asked more than once already, I think it’s a given point that I do wanna know.”

“Well too bad I’m not gonna answer because it’s not pressies time yet baby, wait till tomorrow morning on proper Christmas day.”

Before Sophia can hackle Harry even more to just spit it out, and completely disregarding the fact that him calling her baby has just thrown her off her momentum of interrogation, Harry points to the discarded folded gold paper near Sophia's hand that’s resting on the table.

“That one has been waiting for you since earlier.” Harry says, coy tilt in his features remerging, making Sophia squint her eyes in outright suspicion.

“If this piece of paper actually says you bought me a Tesla, I swear to fucking god Sty-”

“Sunflower! Just read it and shush!” Harry instructs in pleased laughter. Wow, good to know that Sophia’s threats of bodily harm are amusing for him.

Having no choice but to follow what he said, Sophia sighs and rolls her eyes at the suddenly highly attentive Harry as she picks up the little gold paper to hold in her hands. She unfolds it with ease as her eyes scan down to the impressive cursive strokes written on the paper.

Sophia was hoping to get a laugh out of what she reads this year, except laughing is apparently the farthest thing from what she would be doing as the words written on the paper punched the air straight out of her body.

“I don’t need the Biebs to tell you to kiss me under the mistletoe. I’d kiss you anywhere, and anytime I damn please. All the mistletoes can burn to ashes for all I care, it still won’t stop me from snogging you silly.”

It’s not a dad joke, is what Sophia’s mind first registers. And then it all went spiraling down a rabbit whole after she pieced together all the words and what they could possibly mean, the words, ‘he wants to snog me silly’ repeating in endless loops on Sophia’s head like a rollercoaster ride on steroids.

Sophia was far from laughing, the ringing on her ears repeating every single consonant and vowel from the words written on the paper that’s clenched tightly in her hands. She can feel the axis of the earth tilt beneath her, reality warping into a rose-tinted dimension because surely, this has got to be a joke right?

There’s no fucking way Harry would actually say these things to her, or worse, act upon these words. Harry is the most vocal person Sophia’s ever met, he’s not afraid to be vulnerable in the name of love, wears his bloody heart out on his sleeves for anyone to care or ruin. It doesn’t make sense to Sophia how that same boy would write these world-altering sentences instead of saying it to her face or even just dropping hints that he wants to snog Sophia until she’s lost all her wits and has become a total loon.

Well Sophia feels like a total loon right now, Harry’s successful in accomplishing that.

Her pining heart molded in the shape of her best friend is clashing with her rational head that cannot fit in that same mold. It’s like her heart is a cookie cutter shaped like a little gingerbread man, wanting to cut as many pieces of the dough, to always have more. But there’s this snowman cookie cutter who takes up all the other spaces of the dough, hindering the gingerbread cookie cutter from developing foolish notions that she can have more.

There’s no way anyone would want all their sugar cookies to be in the shape of a little gingerbread man when there are so many other cookie cutter shapes available. Just like there’s no way Harry would want something more than their friendship with her when there were so many people out there that are much bigger and brighter than Sophia could ever be.

There’s no way this isn’t a joke, some sick fucking joke.

Sophia breaks from her crazed thoughts and echoes of ‘more, more, no, no’ when she hears Harry calling her name.

Instead of feeling shock at the sudden turn of events just from reading a bloody piece of paper from a Christmas Cracker (again, of all things), Sophia feels a strong wave of confusion bloom in her chest, wrapping around both her thoughts and feelings like a vine connecting the two contrasting perceptions from earlier.

Sure, Sophia’s heart still wants more and her mind is still thinks that it’s a stupid idea to pursue. But as she’s returning Harry’s silent stare, Sophia just feels so bloody confused about everything.

For the first time in what feels like ever, Sophia can’t seem to read Harry’s face if he looks nervous because he might have just confessed his feelings for her, or if he’s trying to control a smirk because he thinks this is the best joke ever. Of course Sophia knows Harry cannot be that awful of a person, would never joke about that stuff with anyone, but he’s just staring at her with an expectant glow in his eyes.

What’s he expecting from her?

And because nobody wants to give Sophia straight answers for her question, her phone decides to start blaring-up, their alarm to head out back to the Christmas market breaking their stare-off.

Harry is the first one to remove his eyes on her, calling for a waiter to ask for their check. Sophia should feel relieved that the unsettling feeling of not being able to read Harry’s face like the back of her hand like the usual, can be put to rest for later as the next item on their Christmas Eve agenda is waiting for them.

But Sophia doesn’t think she can simply rest it.

Harry and Sophia are both in tune with each other in all regards whether it’s the good stuff or the bad ones. And not being able to have that tonight is beyond unsettling for Sophia, there’s no fucking way she can simply brush this off for a later time to analyze.

What is she even to analyze when it feels like she doesn’t even know her best friend anymore?

#harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harries #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #tpwk #harry styles smut #harry styles christmas #harry styles au #best friends to lovers #christmas fic #holiday fic #holiday season #harry styles fanfic #hot chocolate #sausage roll #mistletoe #pressie #christmas masterlist #christmas market #christmas reads

[filmflowersbangtan]

Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening 

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

--

author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol). 

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

--

Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely. 

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that. 

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that. 

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be. 

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty. 

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious. 

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet. 

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied. 

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it. 

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease. 

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you. 

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was. 

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did. 

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.” 

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine. 

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end. 

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door. 

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection. 

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.” 

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.” 

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.” 

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.” 

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM. 

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection. 

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you. 

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach. 

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly. 

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.” 

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you. 

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings. 

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation. 

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered. 

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss. 

Jungkook. 

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up. 

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real. 

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career. 

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.” 

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?” 

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him. 

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.” 

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy. 

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts. 

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes. 

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.” 

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it. 

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love. 

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since. 

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.” 

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots. 

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom. 

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well. 

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store. 

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation. 

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here? 

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent. 

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her. 

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away. 

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights. 

Maybe it was just the hair. 

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him. 

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.” 

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him. 

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled. 

“What happened?” 

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs. 

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown. 

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it. 

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him. 

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”  

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly. 

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone. 

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

--

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #kpop #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts jeon jungkook

[mymoonagedaydream]

Hey girl 💞it’s my birthday next week Wednesday and I have no friends 🙃so I’m hoping if you have any time/ and if you want to could you write a fluffy birthday for Reader and Bucky where he is being all nice and shit. I recognise how tragic this sounds lol but it is what it is 😂 hope you have a good week and keep up the amazing stories 💞

103 Candles

Summary: You wouldn’t have minded your birthday quietly slipping by without anyone noticing, but apparently that wasn’t allowed on Bucky’s watch.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, much floof as requested

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday for Wednesday anon! I know things seem to be relentlessly shitty at the moment but I really hope you have a lovely day despite all that. And don’t be saying you got no friends cause I’ve just written a whole bloody story for you, cheeky thing. (I moved this one up the queue a little but hey, can’t miss a birthday.)

---

‘Mail call.’

Bucky was already standing inside your room, knocking on the door after he’d opened it. Apparently privacy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, he’d caught you half-dressed more times than you could count but obviously still hadn’t learned his lesson.

He grinned and held a handful of envelopes out to you.

‘Thanks Buck. Glad to see you’re finally making yourself useful.’

‘Don’t get used to it, cupcake.’

He flopped down onto your bed, lying back with his hands folded under his head. Your gaze unconsciously wandered down to where his t-shirt was riding up slightly, your face starting to heat up before you caught what you were doing and quickly looked away.

In the couple of months you’d been at the compound, no-one had made you feel more welcome than Bucky. He was the first to offer help whenever you needed it and he always made an effort to speak to you when your paths crossed.

Plus neither of you really had friends outside of work, so you spent most evenings alone with him in the living room, doing your very best to educate him on some of the best films of the last fifty years while he fought tooth and nail to stay stuck in his outdated ways.

He still thought Charlie Chaplin was the height of cinema, bless him.

You’d really become attached, but you knew pursuing anything romantic meant risking the loss of your best friend, so you just buried that feeling alongside your weird fascination with bigfoot and your inexplicable attraction to Donny Osmond.

He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Anything exciting?’

You lazily flicked through the letters, stopping when you came across a bright red envelope, sporting what you instantly recognised to be your sister’s handwriting.

Dropping the rest of the pile, you held it up to Buck. ‘Looks like a birthday card.’

‘Your birthday’s coming up?’

‘Yeah, Wednesday.’

‘For real?’ He excitedly jumped back onto his feet. ‘What are we doing for it? Party?’

‘God no, I can’t think of anything worse.’

His arms folded across his chest as he gave a loud huff, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. ‘Is this one of those lady things where you say you don’t want something but actually do?’

‘Definitely not. Could we just keep this between us? Please?’

The smirk that spread across his face sent a bolt of dread coursing through your veins. It was obvious that he was plotting something, but before you could probe any deeper he had his hands up in surrender and was backing out of the room.

‘Whatever you say, weirdo.’

---

Wednesday came around and, as you’d hoped, it felt like just another normal day. You woke up late, shuffled to the kitchen to assemble something resembling a breakfast and encountered no unwelcome surprises on your way. 

Your optimism about getting through this day without drawing the attention of your colleagues was steadily growing but, just as you’d finished cooking and were about to escape back to your bedroom, Bucky strolled in looking very fucking pleased with himself.

He was wearing his winter coat, immediately rousing your suspicion because the crazy powerful compound heating made the place like a sauna, and holding something behind his back.

‘Hey! Happy b-’

You shoved your hand over his mouth. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

He made a face and mumbled something into your palm, making you roll your eyes and reluctantly let go of his face.

‘Yeah, we agreed to keep it between us. I haven’t told anyone else.’ With a proud grin, he pulled a terribly wrapped gift from behind his back. ‘But you never said I couldn’t celebrate.’

You tried your best to look a little peeved, but you really struggled to smother your growing smile. 

You just hoped that this was all he had planned.

Taking the present from him, you tried to tear it open, quickly realising that he’d used an ungodly amount of tape to hold the shambles together. You ended up having to ferret out the kitchen scissors just to get into the bloody thing.

Finally cracking it open, you grabbed your gift and held it up, becoming instantly confused.

‘You got me a Christmas sweater?’

‘Yeah. When you have a birthday in December, you gotta accept that you’ll get festive gifts.’ He excitedly reached for the zipper on his coat. ‘You haven’t even seen the best part.’

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Under his coat, he was wearing a matching sweater.

The only issue was that they obviously didn’t make them in his size, cause it was the tightest piece of clothing you’d ever seen anyone wear, including Nat. He looked like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing.

You started laughing so hard you could barely stay standing, his confused frown just sending you further into your spiral.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

You just about managed to form words through your breathless howling. ‘You look like a sex offender.’

‘Is that right?’ He gave you a roguish smirk and pulled your sweater out of your hands. ‘Well let’s see how you look in yours.’

‘I think I should save it for Christmas.’

‘I think you should be more polite about the gift I spent ages picking out for you.’

You quickly spun round, taking off towards the door. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you hoped you could at least get back to your bedroom before he caught up, locking him out along with the sweater.

It didn’t work.

You didn’t even make it out of the room before he’d grabbed you and pulled the sweater down over your shoulders, trapping your arms by your sides. 

With a reluctant sigh, you adjusted so you were wearing it properly, wincing at the itchy material rubbing against your neck. This thing would definitely give you a rash if you wore it for too long. 

‘Ah, you were right.’ Bucky looked you up and down with a smirk before strolling out of the room. ‘They do look terrible.’

You quickly pulled it off before shouting after him. ‘At least mine fits.’

---

The evening came around and you sequestered yourself to your bedroom, hoping to ride out the rest of the day in peace. There’d been no big surprise party and no more weird gifts, so you were feeling pretty good about your chances, when a series of loud thuds sounded against your door.

You reluctantly shuffled over and pulled it open, a little shocked to see Bucky standing there holding two huge pizza boxes. This was the first time he’d ever knocked before entering.

Eh, he probably just couldn’t reach the doorknob with his hands full.

‘What is this?’

‘Birthday dinner.’ He strolled past you with a grin, jumping onto your bed and flinging open the top box. ‘I didn’t get anything for my birthday back in March either, so we can call this a joint party.’

Alright, if the only “party” you had to endure this year was pizza in bed with Bucky, you’d figured you’d gotten off pretty lightly. You might even enjoy it, just as long as he had nothing else hidden behind his back.  

Crawling on next to him, you grabbed a slice and started stuffing your face, deciding for some reason to attempt conversation in between mouthfuls. 

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘If you count my time in deepfreeze I’m 103.’

You audibly gasped and inhaled a bit of cheese, immediately choking and coughing your guts up like a fucking idiot. Bucky just chuckled and whacked you hard on the back. 

It didn’t help at all, but you appreciated the gesture.

‘I can see why we skipped it,’ you wheezed, ‘you’d need a fucking big cake for 103 candles.’

‘And an even bigger one for 104. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.’

The two of you finished off the pizzas, Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he ate at least one and a half of them, and you threw the empty boxes onto the floor. Slumping back onto your pillows, you quickly had to dive sideways to dodge Bucky’s huge metal shoulder as he flopped next to you, obviously underestimating his own width. 

You flicked on the TV. ‘What d’you want to watch?’

‘I’ll let you pick, since it’s your birthday.’

‘For real?’ This was unprecedented, the two of you had never managed to watch a movie without at least thirty minutes of arguing beforehand. ‘Can everyday be my birthday?’

‘Maybe. If you play your cards right.’

You gave him a wide smile and let your head fall onto his shoulder, adjusting yourself a little when his arm came up to circle your shoulders. This had become your usual lazy evening position, but it felt a little different in bed than it did on the couch in the communal living area. More intimate.

It felt a lot different when his arm fell to your waist and pulled you in closer to him, that’d never happened before.

But you definitely weren’t complaining.

You shifted onto your side slightly, slotting your head into the curve of his neck, smiling to yourself at how neatly it fit there. Your knee automatically folded up to rest on his thigh, a bolt of electricity shooting up your spine when Bucky’s free hand moved to start caressing it lightly.

He must’ve felt you twitching, because he let out a gruff chuckle and pressed his lips into your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting to rub cheek across your temple.

It was rough and stubbly, scratching against your skin like the sweater, but this sensation was different. It felt satisfying and strangely familiar, immediately  sending you in to a deep, warm relaxation.

Eventually managing to pluck up some courage, you tilted your head back slightly so you were face-to-face with him. 

His gaze was already zeroed in on you. 

As soon as your eyes met, he lifted his hand from your knee to cup your face, brushing his thumb gently across your lips.

‘Good birthday?’

‘Yeah. Better than expected.’

He gave a slight smile and leaned towards you, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your whole body tensed slightly, you pulled in a sharp, stuttering breath through your nose as your stomach tied itself in a knot.

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to compose yourself, relaxing and letting him lead the kiss while you just felt yourself begin to melt under his touch.

Your arms slid around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, the two of you steadily pulling each other closer until you were both on lying your sides with your bodies pressed together, limbs tangled up like electrical cables.

He pulled away slightly, whispering while his forehead was still pressed firmly against yours. ‘I was lying earlier, you looked great in that sweater.’

‘I’m still not gonna wear it.’

‘Fair enough.’

---

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff

[amane-by-together]

Hanafuda || Amane Yugi

(Part 1 of 10)

genre: fluff, school, slice of life, modern au (where all wonders live)

summary: amane yugi spends his school days skipping classes until he meets [name] [surname], a student from the other class, who was also skipping classes and eventually the two of them formed a platonic friendship. cutting classes and playing hanafuda together strengthens their friendship but soon unexpected feelings blossom between the two.

“Amane-kun.” [name] was shuffling the hanafuda cards together for them to play, she glanced over to the choppy haired boy who was sitting crossed legged against the rooftop's railings. “You going to the next class?”

“Nah.” Amane answers while fiddling with his locks of hair. “We probably skipped three classes this day, wanna skip classes in fourth period?” he smirked playfully.

“What class do you have in fourth period?” [name] asked, giving Amane some seven hanafuda cards. “Math?”

“Literature.” He received the cards and scooted in front of her. [name] flashed him a quick grin, her competitive side is showing all of a sudden when it comes to hanafuda. Amane stared at his cards and groaned. “Ugh, why do I get the worse cards?”

“I dunno, I wasn't looking when I was shuffling them.” [name] purses her lips together as she analyzes her cards. Her [eye color] colored eyes met with Amane's amber eyes. “Hm. Let's start!”

“You go ahead, [name]-san.”

“Hm~? Alrighty then~” [name] stretched her arms and let out a satisfying sound from her lips. She placed a sakura card with the tag to its match and took another card from the stack and placed it along with the cards on the center since it has no match. “Winner gets to sleep in the loser's lap.” she added.

“[name]-san, you know so damn well I'm not good with these things.” he murmured with a blush while putting a matsu card on the center.

Amane met [name] by chance. He often skip classes alone week by week, no one seemed to notice his absence which was fine by him. One day, he decided to stay on the rooftop and saw a girl sitting by herself with her phone. It must be fate or a coincidence, he thought.

The thing is, he has never seen this girl from the classes he attended to so he assumed that she's from the different class where Tsukasa, his twin brother, is. “Tsukasa-kun?!” she exclaimed at their first encounter. “What the frickety frack are you doing here?!”

Amane scratches his cheek and sweat dropped. He spoke. “I'm not Tsukasa though, I'm his older twin.”

[name] blinked she stood up from the bench and went over to Amane. The choppy haired boy slightly backed away from her. “Your tone is lowered down a bit, your eyes shaped like the crescent moon, yeah you're not Tsukasa-kun.” she muttered.

“I'm Amane Yugi, first year highschool, from class A.” he introduced himself while twiddling his fingers. “I'm Tsukasa's older brother though.” he chuckled.

“[name] [surname], same year as you but I'm from class B. Nice to meet you, Amane-kun.” [name] sat back down to the bench, she patted the extra space next to her. “Come, sit next to me.”

Amane hesitated a bit but shrugged and sat next to [name]. The female grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess you're skipping classes like me.”

“I've been skipping multiple times, no one noticed it yet, how about you?” Amane scooted closer till their shoulders touched, his bangs became parted from the side due to the slight wind that passed by.

“I started skipping on the beginning of first year.” [name] pulls out a packet of melon bread and gave it to Amane which he gratefully accepts it. Amane and [name] ate in pure silence, munching on to the bread that [name] bought recently which was originally for herself.

During those days of skipping classes, they would play hanafuda together on the rooftop. [name] would frequently win during their matches, guess luck really isn't compatible with Amane. The two of them quickly became close due to their meet ups when they're skipping classes together.

“Amane-kun, I know you have the full moon bright card.” [name] eyed him suspiciously but a shadow casted over to her face with a funny glint in her eyes. She placed an ume card with a red tag on it. “Red Poetry Tags, I win again~!”

“I couldn't even get a lot of yaku combinations.” Amane helped [name] to clean up the cards. “I knew I should give up the plain cards.”

Amane blushed at the thought of [name] laying down on his lap, he doesn't even know what to do when that happens, maybe he should play with her hair or massage her cheek?

[name] happily laid down on his lap, Amane grabbed his hoodie and placed it on top of her skirt. “Ne, [name]…” his hands reached over to caress her hair with his fingers. “Let's have lunch together.”

“Sure, I don't really have someone to share my lunch with,” Amane looked down on her laying on his lap and gave her a soft smile. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and started to pet her head, he reminded her of a cat. [name] would often keep her distance from others makes her cat-like according to him.

Though there's a part of [name] that doesn't want to open up to people, Amane was pretty much the same as her. “I got tired from work, yesterday.” he mentions with a small chuckle.

“Wait, you have a part time job?” [name] asked as her eyes piqued in interest, wanting to know what he does for work. “Where?”

Amane's cheeks grew warm, he slightly drooped his eyes and said. “I'm not telling you.”

“Why though?”

“You'd probably show up if I did.”

[name] turned her head to face his embarrassed look. She smiled playfully while wiping a dramatic tear from her eye. “You know me so well.” she faked a sniff.

“It's embarrassing...” Amane grumbled. [name] reached her hand out and placed it on to his cheek. He leans against her touch, the feeling of warmth and serenity made him smile a bit.

“But it's not. The fact that you're working is admirable.” [name] assured him with a smile unbeknownst to her that Amane's heart definitely skipped a beat on that act. “Pinch~” she cheekily grins while pinching his cheek.

“Owsh—” Amane tried to say while his cheek is being pulled by [name] and by that she releases her cheek. “That hurts...” he pouted.

“Have this for payback.” Amane returned the favor by pinching her cheek. Her cheeks were like mochi, which he likes to point it out just to tease her. “Mochiii~”

[name] deadpans. “You're treating me like some kind of mochi instead of a person.”

“Exactly.” The bell suddenly rang interrupting the two teens. Amane grabbed his bag that was on the bench. [name] punched a hole on the juice box using a straw and took a sip.

Amane leaned back against the railings, unboxing his lunch and ate. [name] didn't feel like eating, a juice box can satisfy her stomach after all. “[name]-san, don't you have lunch?”

“I forgot it at home.” she replied nonchalantly, she kept on having a stoic face until her stomach betrayed her by letting out a small growl. Amane stop eating halfway at the sound. “That’s nothing~” she denied that she was hungry.

“Here, I’ll give you some of my lunch.” Amane picked up a piece of egg roll using his chopsticks and raised it in front of [name]. “Say ahh~”

“O-Oi!” [name] flinched as she backed away from him. Amane’s brow creases in pure confusion. “Y-You don’t have to...”

“I can’t let you skip lunch, [name]-san.” The choppy haired boy smiled while putting the egg roll near her mouth, then his smile turned into a painful one. “Just take a bite, my hand is getting tired.”

[name] sighed in defeat, she was very hungry and was wrong about the juice box making her full. She tucked a hair behind her ear and ate the egg roll that Amane offered for her, his heart skipped a beat whilst she pulled away. “I guess, sharing lunch is not a bad idea...”

“Also, your lunch tastes good.” [name] scooted next to Amane to see his boxed lunch, she pointed at the ghost-shaped sausages, the bunny shaped rice balls and egg rolls. “You made that?”

Amane nodded with a slight blush on his face but the smile on his face didn't falter. “Well yeah, at the first time I made one of these they were all sloppy but practice makes perfect so I'm able to make one. If you'd like, I'll make you one or we can be matching too~!”

“Let's have matching lunches, duh.” [name] opens her mouth and ate another piece of egg roll that Amane was offering her. “But before that, I'll make us some lunch for us to share.”

“[name]-san, here have a sausage.” Amane feeds her the ghost-shaped sausages which the latter hummed contently. Amane took a bite on one of the sausages, he pulled out his phone and swallowed his food. “Hey, [name]-san,”

[name] stopped chewing her food. “Hm?”

“Wanna go home early?” Amane said with a mischievous grin, he's mostly the bad influence when it comes to reckless things like skipping classes. [name] had no idea why he has a lot of plans regarding this. “This is getting boring, don't cha think so?”

“And how do we plan to sneak out from school?” [name] asked, quirking a brow whilst waiting for an answer.

“We can jump off the roof.” Amane suggests.

“No. We'll freaking die if we did or even break our bones.” [name] shuddered. “If we did, they'll think it's just some lovers' su—”

“Nevermind that then.” Amane flailed his hands in front of her. “I guess we should wait till dismissal then...”

“Wanna play again?” [name] asked as she showed him the small box containing the cards.

Amane smiled. “Sure.”

Amane sat alone on a concrete bench, listening to the soft pitter patter of the rain surrounding him. Holding the clear umbrella from his right hand, he sighed as if he's gonna make a monologue or something.

He has friends from his class but none of them made him feel real. The only person who can make him feel like himself was no other than [name].

[name], to Amane, was everything to him. Meeting her was fate as if they were meant to meet in the first place. Back then, Amane admired some girls yet only because they're pretty. None of them were ever even close to him, he only felt shallow for them.

“Sorry for making you wait—” [name]'s voice cuts him off from his inner monologue. She held up her school bag on top of her head to prevent her from the rain. She grins blithely. “You don't have to be sitting the exact same way.”

“My uniform is a bit soaked.” [name] added with a wince. Amane licked the side of his lip and stood up to put the umbrella above her. “It was literally sunny recently.”

“Hm, I'll be taking you home.” Amane hands her the umbrella to [name], went over to his bike and puts his school bag in the basket. “Which way is your house?”

“That's like a novel way to put it but I guess that works.” [name] pointed out. “Sounds like a romance cliche, not gonna lie, lmao.”

Amane stepped on to his bike, [name] held on to his shoulders from behind. He was thankful that she didn't get to see his blushing face, because that's lowkey what every guy felt when there's a girl behind them on a bike.

Amane started pedalling. [name] closes the umbrella and sits down instead. “It stopped raining, by the way.” she declared.

[name] wrapped her arms around his torso and that's how Amane's face erupt in a huge blush. “[name]-san?!” he stammered at the sudden action.

“...Don't say a word about this.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

[name]'s face flushes, she buried her face on his back and that's where his heart started to beat faster. Out of all the girls he admired throughout the years, his feelings for [name] is different.

How so you may ask? When Amane is around [name] it's like he's sitting on a fluffy pink cotton candy or maybe standing on water that reflects a pastel pink sky with soft looking clouds with her. “You know, with you hugging me from behind isn't that kinda...” Amane turned his head towards [name] and smirked playfully. “Bold for you~?”

[name] tightens the hold in irritation. “Ack—” Amane's hold on the handle became wobbly but managed to maintain his balance. [name] elicits a small giggle in return.

“Hm, wanna skip again tomorrow?”

“If its with you, why not?”

“You're so cheesy.” [name] slightly smacked his shoulder. Amane turned ahead, a smile forming from his lips.

‘Nonetheless, I don't really mind skipping with you even if it means being with you...’

“Hold on tight, we're going downhill!” Amane gripped on the handles of his bike. [name]'s eyes widened when she saw that that they were about to go down on a slope.

“Cheers to us delinquents!” [name] cheered before they go down to the road.

Definition and terms:

hanafuda - flower cards that can be played in a variety of games such as koi koi (the type of game that [name] and amane are playing with the cards)

sakura - cherry blossom

matsu - pine tree

ume - plum blossom

-end of part 1-

thank you for reading, make sure to like and reblog if you love this post~

taglist: @closetwaffle @closetweebsmh

#tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #amane yugi #amane yugi x reader #anime #hanako x reader #fluff #yugi amane #yugi amane x reader #amane #hanako kun #jshk hanako #toilet bound hanako kun #hanako

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Three

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

recurring visions of such sweet days

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: slight nsfw (wet dreams, unresolved tension)

☽ fic masterlist

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He stashed the photos--really he flung them like a frisbee--onto his unmade bed and slammed the door shut before Giulia could inquire about his back pressed to the door, hands on the knob, a cross of a nervous grin and a suspicious glaze over his wavering eyes. But, after careful consideration and with both his sister and father's backs turned, Alberto wiggled back into his room to retrieve the precious pictures and put them carefully on the nightstand. He felt dirty knowing he'd tossed them onto his rumpled sheets, sitting there like he didn't care about them.

But he did.

He didn't expect to register all that had truly happened until tomorrow. His eyes dropped to the glass of tepid water from that morning and the pile of photos next to it, the memories coming back.

Luca's expectant yellow eyes watching him as he traced his shapes and scales with a paintbrush on the canvas.

When Luca grinned like a little puppy and pointed at the painting Alberto had propped on his knees, of none other than the boy himself.

Luca's chin jutting out in defiance when Alberto offered to take Luca's picture home, since keeping it at his home would only result in ruining it.

And, equally defying, the sharp curve of Luca's jawbone as he stuck his tongue out at the sky, leaving Alberto still. He could see his soft features working under there. The faint pulse of his throat, a thrumming instrument but all the same slightly animal. When he had rolled his eyes and begrudgingly scooted his own painting over with a claw, splattering water on the edge, Alberto's eyes fixed on his scales ripple and shift on display when Luca moved.

Somewhere on the surface of the ocean, (the ocean skin as Luca called it fondly, but Alberto couldn't possibly think of that now) a boat's amber light hung in the darkness, the only thing to see from outside and, Alberto bit his lip, holding one meaning.

They were hunting for sea monsters on that boat. Ercole's parents, no doubt.

He walked by the bed to the window, almost in a trance, and slammed it shut. The smells of the sea were cut off, night sounds silenced. He wished he wasn't able to see it anymore, but Massimo's aged house hardly had the proper plumbing to operate let alone some goddamn curtains. It frustrated him that though the mental image of Ercole's father on the boat had lifted, that glowing yellow light remained to taunt him.

Luca said he had a family. A mother and father who cared for him and maybe loved him enough to keep him safe from the surface. But where was he now? These men, more monsters than people, with spears and blades sharper than Massimo's, scanning the calm sea with searchlights? Would the lights scare Luca?

He caught himself on the ledge of the windowsill, holding the wood frame tight. He felt it sigh under his weight it was so old.

What was happening?

"Fratello! Papa is not happy that you're letting his dinner get cold! Again!" Giulia, as Alberto could tell by her voice, was pressed to his closed door and resorted to gleeful knocking again and again.

Alberto slid the lock into place on the window, staring out into the night for a breath. Once, twice, then cleared his throat and called back.

"I'll be just a minute!" He tried to wipe the thought of Luca thrashing in the grip of a fisherman's net from his mind as he spoke, but his words came out wobbly and restrained.

Giulia's annoying pounding on the door stopped. "Okay, but I'm not doing your stupid chores for you anymore! Papa says so!" He saw her shadow hover by the bottom doorframe then whisk away to the light of the kitchen.

But through all of the sweaty panic Alberto cherished the quiet moments spent eating. Neither asked where he'd hurried off to so early in the morning while he wolfed down his dinner. (Truly Alberto wasn't sure of the answer himself, he only figured that if Luca was indeed a sea monster, maybe he was up with the rising of the sun like the fish Massimo and Alberto caught at dawn). But they, mostly Giulia, did however beg to know where that pasta was going if all Alberto did during his free time was sit and draw. They didn't know it took grueling work to paddle out to the island, and equally challenging talent to wrestle your way out of a sea monster's grip. He kept that to himself, of course, even if Machiavelli was snippier than usual at Alberto's presence when he thought about it, bringing a suspicion on what he did during the day that neither Giulia or Massimo seemed to care about.

Alberto nudged the pouchy white cat with his bare foot and Machi bit down on his heel. He pulled his legs back under the chair as far as they could go and as an apology for the fishy smell on him, and for trying to make him move, he dropped a few pieces of sausage down on the floor. He was sure that if no one else in the house was to know, Machiavelli was on Alberto's case, but the cat only growled and ate the peace offering.

He sighed. He was safe for the time being. That made him laugh around his bite of salad.

"Think of something funny, son?" Massimo looked up from his plate. Giulia had finished long ago and was only spinning her fork around in circles on the tablecloth.

Alberto nodded with a smile. "The cat."

"Speaking of cats! There's one that I keep seeing in the alley by the Gelataria, Papa, and I think that Machiavelli likes her!" Giulia perked up and was speaking with passion to Massimo now, Alberto's little quip forgotten.

"The black cat? Giulia, they're bad luck," Massimo put on his best apologetic face but it only spurred Giulia on. Alberto stared at his empty plate and debated whether now was the opportune time to slip away to his room with them distracted.

"But please, Papa! We could have kittens!" Giulia pleaded, hands splayed on the table for effect. From under Alberto's chair Machi was stewing. He stood from the table and took their plates, looking calm. Massimo was holding Giulia's small hand softly in his larger one, but it looked as though the girl was next to tears.

Alberto knew she was faking it, though. He listened smugly with his back to them while rinsing the plates and cutlery.

"Kittens are a lot of work."

"Alberto is a lot of work, but we still keep him around!"

"Giuletta. Manners."

"Sorry, Papa."

"Where would they sleep, Giulia? In your bed with you? You are allergic, my dear."

"Only mildly! And besides, if I start sneezing or something, they can stay in Alberto's room! Plain and simple."

"Excuse me?" Alberto whipped around. "Who said that I was okay with having roommates?"

Giulia giggled until her nose went pink. "You've been sharing that Pescaria smell with the two of us since yesterday, and last I checked, we didn't ask. So think of it as an upgrade."

"Like you smell any better!"

"Actually, Alberto." Massimo turned to him. "It...is an odd smell on you. It's not entirely fish."

"Yeah fratello. It's worse."

"Okay, that's it. I'm excusing myself now. Giulia you get to pick the record to play tonight."

"Go take a shower!" Giulia hollered at him, earning a grumble of disapproval on Massimo's part.

"Y-Yeah, sure thing!"

But the whole time his mind was reeling. Massimo had caught it. Giulia had caught it. Even the cat noticed it, too. Alberto pulled his tank up and over his head once the door was shut, bringing it to his nose. It smelled like sweat and salt, the usual things, but he was right. There was something else. It was mild with his nose so close, but still sharp and tangy, as if the sea-sprinkled wind had a personality that stuck to his clothes.

But that wasn't it. It was...oh no.

It was Luca.

Despite his efforts, it took him a solid ten minutes of scrubbing in the shower to get rid of Luca's smell. It wasn't that he hated it, he was used to smelling like fish from hours spent on Massimo's boat--but Machi had kept Alberto up almost all night yesterday, growling and scratching at Alberto's door because of the smell on him.

From in the kitchen, Giulia had chosen one of Massimo's more upbeat records to listen to while they finished cleaning up. He could hear her off-key singing, and Massimo's baritone jumping in with her, which made him smile.

The polaroids were still there, sticking out from underneath a sliver of the water glass. But of course they were, why wouldn't they be? Door locked, window overlooking the sea mostly covered, Alberto let his bath towel fall to his ankles. A line of shower water tickled his chin, or maybe it was sweat, he wasn't sure. He needed to get dressed. But he picked up the first of five photos.

A blurry little square of the pool that morning, just to test the camera, but around the edges sprigs of grass sprouted up through cracks in the island rock, making the picture much more beautiful than he thought.

The next three were of Luca. All taken as close to the top of the water as Alberto could get, too afraid to stick a hand under and gesture Luca to the surface, and also because it wasn't his camera. Body curled under the water, examining things along the walls of the pool too far to see, tail moving slow and practiced. His dorsal fins were the only things that translated best over film, a brilliant cool blue that Alberto had checked (and double-checked) he had the right color paint for.

He let out a tiny sigh at the final photo. Luca facing him from below, his expression a scowl, looking so human it was hard to believe that he wasn't.

But, as Alberto's fingers pinched the corners of the photos, of Luca, holding his breath as he knew it was definitely sweat he was now feeling on his neck, wasn't he human?

His chest ached, drumming a painful harmony from his frantic heart all the way down his abdomen, and if he moved the photos from his line of vision and looked down--

Oh no.

He relentlessly put everything he had into hurrying to throw on some clothes and turn off the lights. crawling into bed, so transfixed on the polaroids and—was it possible? Really? Had he just…?

No. He refused to encourage that line of thinking.

Luca was a sea monster, and probably asleep someplace far below the surface with his family, dreaming of seaweed or whatever else things that were not human thought about.

But, as Alberto lay there rigid and aching, staring at the ceiling waiting for that to go away, part of him wished he could be there with him. To make sure he was okay.

Pfft, sure. Make sure he's alright. That's all.

/ / /

Luca was not dreaming of seaweed.

But he was convinced he had died in his sleep, over a dream of soft touches. Phantom hands running down his scales, someone's calloused fingertips grazing the hollow of his throat so tenderly it made Luca squirm. Luca grabbed his imaginary person's forearm, begging to be touched. One hand remained tracing patterns on his chest while Luca felt another take hold of the side of his face, rubbing circles into his gills until he was sure he was going to pass out from the stimulation. He was so...sensitive there. Around his cheeks and his gills and especially his tail. But all he could do was tilt his face back in guilty bliss and allow whatever was happening to him to continue.

He'd never in all of his years had a dream quite like this.

"P-Please..." Luca whispered. Please stop, or please keep going? Even he didn't know.

He swore he heard a chuckle echo, a familiar chuckle, a confident one, but some sort of reaction all the same.

Luca blinked in his dream, almost crying out because the touch was gone, but then he realized it had only moved. The imaginary touches returned, this time a cool fingertip along his dorsal fin to his tail, while Luca shivered around it, biting his cheek. His legs twitched, and his tail curled around the forearm of this imaginary hand, feeling safe and comfortable enough to do so even if it was touching him in ways his mother had warned him about. The air around him (around them? no one was there) felt absurdly warm, but he realized it was only coming from his scales. The smell that hung in the air was overpowering, thick and heady in sweetness with just a trace of salt that Luca could almost taste in the air. A familiar smell...

He couldn't take much more of it. He had to wake up before...something happened. Something bad.

The cold water of his bedroom startled him into consciousness, the subdued blues and greys in much starker contrast to the tropical greens he'd dreamt of. That white-hot feeling came back, this time stronger and with a ripple of pain that burned in the pit of his stomach. When he opened his eyes the water around his bed felt warmer, like it had in the dream, and when Luca stretched out a hand his fingers were cool though his forearm was not, as if he was the one causing all of this heat.

Huh. Weird.

The last memories of the dream were still a thick haze on his thoughts, racing around and replaying the scenes over and over again until Luca buried his face into the sewn kelp of his bed to keep from whimpering.

He let his hand press to his belly, where it hurt the most, then slip down the waistband of his pants to rest between his legs. His fingers came back covered in something slick.

"Alberto..." Luca whined, rolling onto his stomach to alleviate some of the discomfort.

His eyes flung open. Alberto?

Oh.

Oh no.

#luca #luca fanfiction #luca movie #luberto #luberto fanfic #alberto x luca #alberto and luca #alberto scorfano #luca2021 #luca paguro #luca pixar

[elena-reina]

Worth It - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: (1/3) heyyy, can you do an imagine that draco comforts you for having depression for whatever reason and one day he saw you standing on the roof of hog warts almost leaping off the balcony but he catches you in time (you can create the ending) thank u if you do!! :)) - Anon

(2/3) Can you do a one shot where Draco knows about the readers eating disorder and he helps her overcome it? I hope that makes sense, I love your stories so much, please don't stop writing! - Anon

(3/3) Yay, you’re back! I was wondering if you could do a Draco Malfoy x reader where he finds her self harming? I get it if you aren’t comfortable - Anon

Warnings: Very triggering- read with caution please, depression- suicide related, anorexia, self-harm

A/N: PLEASE READ! These three all fall under the same category for me, so I just combined them. I just want to make it clear that I am not, in any way, romanticizing or making it seem as though I am pro self-harm whatsoever; I purely write whatever requests come in. To those that do, I know you’ve got a lot going on and there is a lot of emotions, trauma, and hurt; believe me I know a lot about it. But it gets better, I promise you. It always gets better. Incase you all haven’t heard it, I love you, I care about you, and I know you’re strong enough to make it through anything. If anyone needs to talk, my messages are always open and again don’t ever think you’re not enough or worth it because you all are golden. You were put on this earth for a reason :)

Just another day on top of another.

Yawning, you lightly scratched your head and stood in front of your mirror in your dorm room; nothing covered you besides your undergarments. Looking up and down your body completely still, you wouldn’t be able to tell there was anything wrong. You lifted your arm and looked at your wrist leading down your forearm; the markings covered the insides of your arms and varied in color, shape, and size. Some of them were old, obvious by how they shined and caught light at just the right angle. Some were bright red and bold, there was no denying it. Most were about a month old, looking like a cat scratched you and drew blood; which would be believeable considering you owned a cat- Pumpkin; some you could also blame on an accident. 

Well, what kind of accident?

Well, you didn’t have that answer. Not as if anyone were to ask anyways due to the fact that you kept them hidden in the first place.

You started at your feet, averting your eyes from your own reflection. Your feet were bony and thin, like the rest of your body. Raising your gaze, you winced at the emaciated figure that stared back at yourself. 

What had you let yourself become? 

To others, you looked sickly. 

Had you come to Hogwarts like this initially? No. It was harder to hide it at home, so your mind never crossed it other than maybe dark thoughts here and there.

Did you have a good life at home? Well, that’s subjective. You had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in the fridge. All the necessary things to provide as a necessity to live.

But did you have genuine friends, loving parents, and a place to call home? No.

Your once plump and vibrant self, now looked thin to the bone. Once the soul becomes so thin, the body will inevitably follow in its footsteps like a wandering toddler, learning and adapting from the shadows within. Instead of a growing sense of ultimate self-love, self-worth, or self-positivity, the soul doesn’t have the strength to ascend upwards to health anymore. And so it is extremely hard to eat more, even when it is a simple bite at a time; drink more, with a tiny sip of water needed to survive; live more, the simple act of breathing eventually gets difficult from time to time; and ultimately hard to listen to that part of yourself that wants to stay alive and be loved.

Would you still go to the Grand Hall? Well of course, if there was one thing you hated more than yourself was unwanted attention. Part of you belives it’s your fault that you don’t have friends soley because of how introverted you are. And with the friends, well friend, that you do have just so happens to be the person most people don’t get along with; Draco Malfoy.

What’re the odds.

There definitely was more to it than just being “friends” with Draco, but neither of you fully acknowledged it. He knew about your eating disorder, and he tries his best to help you, encouraging you every step of the way- even when you blatantly push him away.

You never asked for help- Not that he cared if you did or didn’t anyway.

Turning away from the mirror, you slipped on your white button up shirt making sure to clip the button around your wrist, taking attention away for your skin. Sliding on your skirt, Y/H tie, and your Y/H robe, you were ready to head down for breakfast. 

Your hand rested on the cold metal door knob, as you stared at the small piece of silver metal on top of your dresser; whom you have a terrible relationship with. You bit your lip, hesitating. You knew you shouldn’t take it. You knew you shouldn’t have it on you because it will only ingite triggers. 

Fuck it.

You quickly walked over to your dresser and picked up the sharp piece to put in your pocket. Spinning on your heel, you headed on out of the room and to the Grand Hall.

You walked through the aisles, and immediately met with Draco’s eyes. He lit up and waved you over to your usual seat right beside him. He scooted over, patting the space next to him as you sat down. He grinned, happy to see you.

“G’morning, Y/N,” he said pulling you into a tight hug. He was always careful when touching you because he felt like he could snap you in half if he were to be too rough on you.

You smiled warmly, breathing in his calming smell. “Good morning, Draco.”

“Alright, I know we’ve been doing baby steps for the longest time, but I think you are just about ready,” he spoke.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’re you talking about?”

He leaned over the table and placed food onto your plate, more than he’s put on the last times. Before it would just be pieces of fruit here and there, maybe a piece of sausage; but this time he put a waffle, more fruit, and two slices of bacon.

Your stomach gurgled for the food, desperate to be full off of something. But at the same time, you felt sick to your stomach.

“Draco, this is too much. I’m not even all that hungry. We had a big dinner the night before remember?”

“Nonesense, you literally only ate a handfull of rice and two small pieces of asparagus last night. Even my owl eats more than that,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You stared at your plate, leaning back. Your tongue felt dry, despite your cup of water being right in front of you. Your throat felt as if someone thrust a handful of itching powder down and it was dying to be coughed out. If possible, you could sit in the chair for fifteen hours straight; you just weren’t in the mood to eat.

“Listen, you don’t have to eat it all, but please try for me.”

You nodded and picked up your fork, stabbing to the orange melon. Bringing it to your lips, you slowly chewed as your stomach was growling in pleasure being finally fed. 

Draco cheered you on with every bite, causing you to laugh. He wanted to distract you so that you focused less on what you’re eating and more on conversing with him so you weren’t as distracted with how much you were eating.

Eventually, you finished about half the waffle, all your fruit, and had no more bacon left. You were surprised at yourself when you looked back at your plate and then to him.

“I’m so proud of you! You ate more than I expected- not that I am complaining, I’m definitely not because I am really happy for you,” he quickly chuckled, “Maybe tomorrow we can put two waffles.” He nudged the side of your bony rib jokinly.

“Ha ha very funny,” you joked, rolling your eyes. 

After some time, you had to go to class. Sadly, you didn’t share many classes with Draco if at all. Walking into potions, you sat in your usual seat in the back of the room. As usual, there were always a few Slytherin’s that would pester you  solely because you were one of the few people in the school who was able to even share the same space as Draco; it was pure jealousy but you didn’t have a say in anything, or even how your friendship blossomed in the first place.

“Y/L/N,” Daphne sneered, leaning close to your face.

You really tried your best to focus on your Potions book but the group of girls that taunt you every single day just so happened to want to be extra annoying and sit around you. And when I say around you, I mean literally in front of you, next to you, on both sides, and even behind you. You lifted your head from your hand to looked at Daphne in front of you, considering she was right in your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I really don’t understand how us purebloods are forced to associate with people like you rotting mudbloods,” she giggled, making a disgusted expression as she said the last part. Her friends burst out into obnoxious laughter. 

You weren’t even a mudblood. You had friends who weren’t magical, but that only led people to paint you as a mudblood.

"Can’t say anything? Can’t stick up for yourself Y/L/N? My goodness, do you even speak or is that too hard for you?” Sarah on the side of you asks, awaiting your response, “I see the way you have Draco baby you. It’s pathetic really.”

They took your silence as an answer and continued but this time it was Heather behind you. "See, she doesn’t even deny it,” she snickered, "Just look at you. I don’t see what he sees in you. You look like, I don’t even know how to say it, a walking pole-”

“No, a broken twig!” Daphne interjected, laughing.

“Yes a broken twig!” Heather continued, slowly enunciating each word, “Nothing but a pathetic, filthy, mudblood who pretends to be sick just to get the attention from those who actually matter.” 

Each word felt like a stab in an open wound over and over again, being thrusted through your entire body. Tears welled up in your eyes as you blankly stared down at your Potions book, threatening to fall at any given moment. 

“What? Cat’s still got your tongue?” Alicia from the other side of you jerked, shoving on your roughly causing you to bump into Sarah. Sarah let out a disgusted groan and pushed you back off of her.

“Gross! Do not touch me!” she gagged, as Heather joined in and pushed you to the point that you fell out of your seat and roughly onto the floor with a loud smack.

“HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!” someone in the classroom, whom you recognized as Justin Finch-Fletchley, spoke loudly finally witnessing what was happening.

Tears silently cascaded down your cheeks. He quickly jogged over to you as the mean girls dispersed to a different part of the classroom snickering together.

“Are you alright?” he asked concerned, extending his arm out towards you. You looked at his hand through blurry eyes and nodded, lightly grabbing onto him. He helped you to your feet. Grabbing onto your book, you turned and rushed out of the room and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Keeping you head low, you sped walked, and crashed into someone that sent you flying to the floor. Choking over your tears, you didn’t bother to look at who it was and instead rushed to find your Potions book and hurry out of there.

“Y/N?” that familiar voice spoke.

Draco.

You still avoided eyecontact as you kept searching to your book only to find him holding onto it, to give to you. Standing up, you straightened out your skirt. Lightly grabbing it, you whispered a quiet thank you and tried to continue down the hallway. He stopped you grabbing onto your arm, alarmed.

“Woah, wait. What’s going on, what happened, what’s wrong?” he asked all at once as he watched the translucent tears glide down the sides of your face. You stood straight.

“Please, let me go,” you spoke softly, your voice slightly cracking.

“Was someone saying bullshit to you? Did someone hurt you? Because you know I’m always here for you and I’ll make sure they don’t say anything to or about you ever again.” He growls getting angrier by the second.

“I just really want to be left alone, Draco. I’m sorry,” you said snatching your arm back and sped walked down the hallway.

His scowl lightens, worrying for you. He slowly followed you. 

Initially you wanted to go to the bathroom, but changed your mind last minute. Turning a different corner, you kept going up more and more stairs until you inevitably reached the top of the Hogwarts building. Rushing to the edge, you dropped your book onto the floor and stood slightly leaning over the edge to get a good look at the bottom of the building with your hair flowing in the wind. It was a long way down that will ultimately end up in costing you your life. Trying to force yourself out of your thoughts, you looked in your pocket for that piece of metal, grateful that you grabbed it earlier. Frantically unbuttoning the shirt around your wrist, you felt numb as you choked over your tears silently.

“I’m not worth it,” you thought to yourself.

You stood on the brink of something you couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on your shoulders and you struggled to take even a single step forward towards anything positive.

You felt worthless. 

A waste of space. A waste of air. A waste of life. 

It was too much. All of it. 

The tingle as the sharp metal glided against your skin provided a senseless, numb feeling. Every step cost you as the darkness in your mind grew darker and darker; the pain grew sharper and stronger; all of it seemed to only swell in strength and you began to wonder if things could ever get better.

You were tired of feeling things. Everyday felt like never ending dread. With an exception of Draco, nothing seemed worth it anymore. Hell, Draco will only end up forgetting about you in the end of it all.

You don’t play that much of a significant role in his life to matter to him in the long run.

Sometimes you wonder if someone ever notices that sad, broken look in your eyes that you see in the mirror that are masked with a smile and fake enthusiasm. 

If they see beauty where you see ugliness. 

You laugh, traveling up your arm going over old scars, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at yourself. Nobody cares. No one notices. 

They never seem to, do they? You’ve fought for years, all for what.

The crimson liquid dripped down your arm, falling onto the stone floor. The wind pushed and howled against you as though to try and shove you back. Clumsily, you dropped your metal blade.

“No!” you shouted, dropping to your knees and it fell further and further, out of your sight. You choked over your sobs, feeling broken. Your arm stung and you looked at it through blurry tears.

“I can’t take this anymore,” you spoke aloud to yourself and shakily stood up. You inched closer and closed on the edge, as you looked up inhaling the fresh air. With one last breath, you closed your eyes, opened your arms, and took your last step forward and felt the pressure of the wind beat you on the way down. 

The blackness behind your eyes was perfect. It provided a visual silence that gave a respected admiration. With your eyes closed there was the simple sweetness of the longing of existing, of being, of breathing, and how those moments extended with such grace until you are met with the concluding dark abyss.

Prior while had Draco followed you, he could feel the dark and depressive energy emerging out of your presense. He knew you needed your space, but something was off. The higher and higher you went up the stairs, he had enough of following you and simply looked up. Only the worse things plagued his mind as he quickly rushed back down the stairs and sprinted through the halls to hurry and get outside. He had no seconds to waste, because he had a feeling you were going to try and jump.

He could’ve followed you all the way to the top, but if you had jumped he would’ve been to late. At least this way, he had a chance of catching you.

Ignoring the pain in his chest from running, he ran pushing anyone and everyone who got in his way. 

Darting outside, his eyes widened as he saw your body flying down the side of the building. With one last push of exertion, he caught you in his arms just in time. He fell forward into the floor, but was sure to cradle your head so you got the least amount of injury.

Breathing heavily up and down. You opened your eyes and met Draco’s silver, scared ones. You didn’t know what to think. You didn’t think he was going to be there. Your fresh wounds, began to soak up in his white shirt. Draco sees them, the sight of your new scars reveal themselves to him. He sees your arm, not that he’s surprised. Still being held in his arms protectively, he starts to cry. 

“Y/N,” he says your name like you had just broken his heart.

Your throat tightens and you feel yourself on the brink of tears as your eyes stung. You didn’t know what to say. You were broken.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say or do. “I’m sorry. I–”

He interrupts you. “Why...” he stammers gazing down at your arm, “How many times?” He rang a soft finger down your arm, wincing at every raw wound.

“I don’t know,” you mumbles. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he cried out, his tears dripping off his chin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t…I wasn’t there for you enough.”

You shake your head, “No, Draco, it wasn’t your fault–”

Draco looked down at you with confusion and anger before he smashed his desperate lips onto yours.

Suddenly, the anger, the self-hatred, the loathing, the rage left your body for a split moment. It diminished as soon as his lips pressed against yours in a long over-due, intense passion. It was as if he was taking all away all your pain and misery and threw it away.

You kissed him back with burning amount of fiery love he was kissing you with. Your lips worked hungrily against his as his hands snaked their way to your waist and pulled your shaking body closer to his to kiss you deeper.

Your cold hands grabbed his face and pulled it closer to yours, if that was even possible. His calming scent flowed through your nostils, making your eyes water under your closed eyes.

Too many emotions were going through your brain and you couldn’t handle it. Deep down,  you had always dreamt of being with Draco. Although, you wish that it could have happened under very different and happier circumstances. Nonetheless, you were grateful.

Pulling away, he gazed into your eyes. “Y/N, can you answer me why? Why didn’t you come and talk to me.”

You tried diverting your gaze, but he grabbed your chin with his hand lightly to keep his eyes locked with yours. “Please.”

“I can’t take it anymore. I hate myself and everything I stand for,” you began to cry, “I just... I just thought it would make it easier for everyone else if I were to end everything and erase myself from existence.”

“I would miss you and I don’t know what I would do without you. What if I had just offed myself and left you there to wonder where you went wrong.”

You broke down into sobs, burying your face into his neck as he embraced you in a tight hug.

You shook. “I... I know, but I’m nothing special. I’m just–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he snapped harshly. “You are so fucking perfect, it drives me insane. I love you so goddamn much, do you know that? Do you? I love you too much to let you keep doing this to yourself. You are worth it. You are loved. You are my everything. I want you to remember that feeling you had right now at the thought of me ending my life, because that’s what you’re doing to me whenever you cut me out of your life like I’m nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried lifting your head sniffing, “Draco, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. I was just…I was just..” but you didn’t have any excuse, so you collapsed back into his warm embrace.

“I know,” he murmurs against your hair. “I know. I love you. I love you so much.”

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #oneshot #one shot #draco malfoy imagines #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Tom Felton #tom #felton #harry potter oneshot #draco malfoy imagine #imagines #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp imagine #hp reader insert #HP

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Painted Windows 2

Warnings: violence, trauma, allusions to abuse and noncon, isolation, torture, further tags to be added.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself confined once more.

Note: As I said before, we have a slow start but I hope you guys stick around. The darkness will creep up on ya in this one but for now, we’ll keep it in neutral. I always appreciate you and thanks for all your patience. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The man gave you a plain grey tee and a pair of shorts with a drawstring. You must’ve looked ridiculous but you didn’t care much after he offered you the bed. As you neared the wide frame, you kept expecting him to approach the other side. To climb under the blankets with you and rip apart the clothing he’d given you. But he didn’t.

He pulled the chair in front of the door and sat. When you were nestled under the covers, he reached up and flipped the lights. The room went black, a small stream of moonlight peeked in between the curtains. You could see his shadow through the dark as he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and leaned back.

You felt guilty. You couldn’t close your eyes as you clung to the thought that you would take his bed from him. You sat up but hesitated to climb out from under the comforter. It was strange, almost a new sensation, to be clean and warm. He splayed his legs out and yawned.

“What?” He asked gruffly.

You gulped and rubbed your throat as you mustered your strength. “Your bed… I--”

“You need to sleep. Don’t worry about me.” He insisted.

Your lips parted but you had no argument. You reluctantly laid back, stiff as a board as you stared up at the ceiling. You huffed.

“If you can’t sleep, I have pills.” He offered dully. “They’ll see you through a good eight hours. Likely more.”

“No.” You rasped and it scratched at your throat. “No pills.”

He said nothing further and you rolled onto your side, facing him. You wouldn’t be able to relax with him behind you. You closed your eyes. They’d given you pills. It wasn’t hard to guess what they were for. Those men wanted a toy, not a baby. You shuddered and pulled the blankets up to your chin.

You listened to the stranger’s breaths. They evened out after a while and soft snores surrounded you. The rhythm lulled you to sleep. You didn’t dream. It was just a blackness so deep it swallowed every thought; every fear. 

You awoke to a slat of sunshine. The chair was empty and pushed away from the door. You sat up and shivered as the blanket fell from your shoulders. You got up slowly. Your muscles were sore and cramped from sleeping in a ball. You stretched and peeked between the curtains. Daylight shone bright on the pale snow.

You turned back and crossed the room. You passed the chair and tiptoed to the door. You tried to twist the knob but it wouldn’t budge. Your chest clutched and you shook it. You were trapped again. 

You backed away as the panic surged through you and tripped over your own feet. You crashed onto the floor. You rolled over and hid your face as you struggled to breathe. The attacks hadn’t come since your first days in the cell but that was your second since the night before. This one worse; overwhelming.

You heard the door and footsteps. Then felt a soft touch on your shoulder. You looked up at the stranger, his other hand held a plate. He frowned as you grasped at your throat and gulped like a fish on the shore. He stood and swiftly set the plate on the nightstand. He returned to you and knelt beside you.

“Count with me,” He put two fingers on your chest and tapped gently as he began, “One; in, two; out, three, four, five…”

“Six,” You gasped. “Seven,” You started to catch your breath as he kept the beat. He got to twenty before you were calm.

“You were trying to get out,” He said. He helped you sit up and directed you to the chair. “You don’t want to do that.”

You looked away from him. You ran your fingers over your lips and swallowed. 

“Eat,” He grabbed the plate and crossed to you; toast, eggs, sausages. 

Your stomach growled in hunger and repulsion alike. You hadn’t seen anything so delicious in… a long time. You took it and rested it on your lap. You caught the fork and broke the yoke. You watched it ooze but couldn’t bring yourself to take a bite.

He closed the door before he sat on the edge of the bed. “Eat.” He ordered. “I won’t say it a third time.”

You used the side of your fork to cut the egg and slowly raised it to your lips. He watched you quietly and you finished half before you tried the sausage. It was so rich and juicy. Your stomach flipped suddenly and you snapped your lips shut. You stood and set the plate in your seat. 

You tried to run to the bathroom but keeled over and puked across the hardwood. You covered your mouth and sat back on your heels. “I’m so… sorry.” You croaked. It was growing easier to talk. “I…”

“They didn’t feed you. Easy enough to guess. When they did, I doubt it was very much or very good,” He stood and went to the bathroom. He returned with a hand towel and knelt across from you. “Stick to the toast… I should’ve known better.”

“I’ll clean--”

“You’ll eat the toast and then I’ll get you some water,” He declared. “You better learn to listen otherwise you’d be better off as you were.”

You sniffed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. You pushed yourself to your feet and returned to the chair. You took the plate and nibbled on the buttered toast as he wiped up your vomit. When he was finished, he washed his hands and left the room. The door locked behind him and clicked again when he returned with a glass of water.

“I can’t offer you much but I can tell it’s better than what you had,” He set the glass on the dresser just a few feet from you. “And the alternative isn’t ideal.”

You stood and reached for the glass. You sat back down and drank. 

“My orders were to clear that place. Everyone. No matter what. You understand? I was ordered to kill you.” He said.

“And? You should have.” You replied evenly. 

“Maybe but… I couldn’t,” He paced slowly. You realised he was anxious. “But I couldn’t leave you there either.”

“So you’ll lock me up here?” You questioned.

“Keep you alive,” He said.

“For what?” You challenged. “Nothing left for me.”

“There is. There can be. I can keep you safe.” He offered.

“Why?”

He was quiet and shrugged. He stopped by the window and adjusted the curtains so no light slipped past them.

“If you want to be my saviour, why don’t you just let me go?”

“Because the men who kept you there are still out there and the men who helped me kill the rest are too.” He stated as he turned back. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“You should be grateful. You’re alive.” 

You watched him but said nothing. You shook your head and drank the rest of the water.

“Thank you for the food,” You muttered.

He crossed to you and took the plate and glass. “More water?” 

You declined with a gesture and he backed away.

“There are books you can read,” He nodded at the shelf. “A radio.”

You glanced over and then back to him.

“I’ll be a while but I’ll be back with lunch.” He neared the door. “Anything in particular you want?”

“No,” You mumbled and turned away from him. You crossed your arms. This was as much a prison as your cell and he was only your new keeper.

The man returned as promised. The door was slow to unlock and was pushed open before he entered with a folding table in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. He set down the bag and unfolded the tray before the armchair as you watched from the other side of the room. 

He pointed to the chair and you hesitantly crossed and sat. He removed a large styrofoam cup from the bag and plopped it before you along with a plastic spoon and packet of crackers. 

“Chicken broth,” He explained curtly as he took the lid off. “Should be easier for you.”

He shut the door and locked it. He went to the window and pulled closed the curtains. You had spent much of your day watching the snowfall. You hadn’t be able to look away. You’d missed it so much. How long had it been since you’d seen the sun? Even the pale winter sun.

“Stay away from the windows,” He warned as he turned to watch you stir the broth. 

“From what I can tell we’re in the middle of nowhere.” You grumbled. 

“Not that far from the city,” He countered. “Don’t make me board it up.”

You looked down at the broth and frowned. He paced around the room quietly. You ate some of the soup and watched him as he neared and retreated again. He was thinking; of what, you couldn’t say. This man was as confounding as the situation itself.

“Why do you wear the gloves?” You asked. Your thoughts escaped without heed.

He stopped and turned to you. His brow wrinkled and he glanced down at his hands. He seemed surprised. He approached you and peeled the leather off his right hand, he paused before he unveiled the left. You couldn’t hide your surprise as he bared metal fingers and shining plates. He dropped the gloves on the tv tray.

“What happened?” You lowered your spoon.

“Nothing worth recounting,” He stretched his fingers and inched away. “Finish your lunch.”

He went to the door and left you. You sipped at your soup until the cup was empty and this time, your body did not revolt. He returned as you tucked away the cup, lid, and spoon into the plastic bag. You kept the crackers for later. He carried more bags.

He went to the bed and you stood. He pulled out several pieces of clothing and spread them over the mattress. “Had to guess at the sizes but figured it didn’t matter much.” He held up a tee shirt with flowers on it. “Better than my stuff.”

He unpacked his wares; shampoo, soap, lotion, pads, tampons, a hair brush, tooth brush, everything you could think of. You stared at the haul and blinked dumbly. You could choose one item and consider it a luxury; the lot was a treasure trove.

“I’ll have proper room for you shortly but I do have work to do.” He continued. “You let me know if you need anything…” He looked around. “I can get you a television?”

You raised your brows at him and he tilted his head slightly.

“All I ask is that you behave. For now, this room is yours. Stay away from the windows and do as I say.” He continued. “Eat what I give you, take care of yourself, simple enough.” He gathered the bags and stuffed them inside each other. “If you can’t adhere to this, I’m more than willing to help you along.”

You stared at him and backed away from the bed. You were suddenly embarrassed. In the back of your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream come true, only an extension of your former nightmare. You were ashamed that you had hoped for a second that he was decent. His kindness came with a price. Not kindness at all.

“Understood?” He asked curtly.

“Yes,” You forced out as you turned away. “I understand.”

“Okay,” He exhaled. “I’ll let you get all this stuff sorted then.” He gathered up the garbage from the tray and neared the door. “Anything I can get you?”

“N--” You spun on your heel as you gulped back the instinctual denial. “What’s your name?”

He blinked and his brows drew together. He picked at the handle of the plastic bag as he considered you. 

“Bucky.” He answered at last. “And yours?”

You opened your mouth to answer and stuttered. You touched your forehead as you thought. Funny, you couldn’t remember. Just like you couldn’t remember where you’d been going that night you were taken or the sound of your mother’s voice. Did you have a mother? No, it was your father who had taken you to the festival and paid for that horse ride, right? Or was that a dream? Another mental escape from the agony of living.

“I don’t know,” You said quietly. “They just called me ‘her’ or ‘it’.”

His lips drew into a line and his jaw ticked. He looked away and stopped fidgeting. “Is there something you want me to call you?”

You followed his gaze to the bed, the shirts, the pants, packs of cotton underwear. “No, but can I think about it?”

“Sure,” He nodded and reached for the door. “Sure. I suppose you should.”

He pulled the door open so quickly you were afraid it would fall off its hinges. He marched out into the hall and the door snapped shut. The lock slid into place and his footsteps didn’t go far before another door clicked. 

You went to the bed and took a shirt from the pile, a long sleeve tee with buttons along the neckline. You picked out a pair of straight-legged jeans to match and a pair of socks. Real clothes. You looked down at those hanging off you and felt a tickle in your stomach. There was something very human about dressing yourself.

You were shaken from your reverie of denim and cotton by a sudden banging. You jumped and shuddered as you clutched the fabric. It was the steady beating of a hammer just down the hall. Not erratic or deafening enough to be anything more sinister. You let out a long breath and set down the clothes before swiping the tee over your head.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #mcu #marvel #captain america #Winter Soldier #triggers at top

[poison--ivory]

Get back Up Chapter 4

The bits of his nightmare are still fresh in his thoughts and lingered on his mind. The black holes of what should be eyes strangled him without him even touching his body.

His mind started playing false scenarios of this nightmarish creature in different scenarios. He imagined going to sleep and being startled awake. Coming to the realization of not being able to move, paralyzed from head to toe. Trying to thrash himself around to get his body to react to any of his muscle spasms. The suspicion of an unknown entity within his room made him feel uneasy and if he could just flinch awake and scope the area out the feeling would simmer down and slowly go away.

His first mistake in this scenario was to blink. That's all it took was a quick closing of the eyes and a single second for that suspicion to grow into terror. A misty shadow from the corner of his eye darted across the room and disappeared into the darkness. Having anything in your room while you slept would cause anyone to feel restless. Next he closed his eyes again and the shadow rushed right beside his bedside. He made out features on its face and body, nonetheless the eyes and the mouth threw him off. Its mouth was too far stretched out causing skin to peel and the teeth didn’t make this any better. Sharp enough to cut wood without breaking or even cracking. But, it’s eyes are what tie it together. Beady, cloudy, white eyes peered through black sludged sockets. His mouth slowly shifts with each calm breath and the insufferable, rotten smell of his heated breath blowing down at his face. The stench of bad meat filled his airways and the contact of the creature's saliva slid down his forehead and slowly made contact with his ear. He knows it's just a dream, but it feels too real to be anything near it.Then soon after he’d arched his back up to and the creature seemed to be gone. Thereafter he had the troubles of trying to fall back asleep again. But, the feeling of someone still in the room with him staring daggers into the back of his head caused him to flip over to gaze at the wall. The little kid in him would come out at that point and would try to justify to itself that curling up underneath the thick, warm blankets would keep him safe.

This scenario was the most unsettling when he thinks about it. The others are subpar at best when compared.

Anthony couldn’t speak, it was like his mouth, his tongue to be more specific swelled in his throat and was expanding with each second passing. He took huge gulps of air in to make sure his esophagus was working. That hellish nightmare still had him drench in cold sweat, harsh chills rolled up and down his spine and he couldn’t fight that image from his night terror out of his thoughts. He can still feel the searing hot flesh of the beast’s gaping jaw swallowing half his body before snapping down on his waistline. He still hears the breaking of his spinal cord and the gushing noise of fresh blood hitting the cramp space walls and the warm feeling of liquid escaping his nostrils and mouth, overflowing and consuming his airway passages. He’d be lying right now if he didn’t feel a little bit of pain in his chest. The painkillers worked miracles on his body. But, they didn’t stop the constant panging of discomfort still in his chest cavity.

He officially loathes whatever creature (Y/n) married. Anthony really doesn’t want to admit to it, but this peculiar man petrified him. He could already feel the bile rising and burning his windpipe. The acidic fluid rose up and out of instinct he swallowed, his old man always hated it when he couldn’t make it to the toilet on time. That and it’s pretty disgusting cleaning up partially digested food out between the fibers of a carpet. The only thing that would come up at this point would probably be the tea he drank earlier.

The only thing stopping him from spilling his stomach acid on the tile floor was the fact (Y/n)’s children were staring at him, they had just shoveled food down their gullets and he didn’t want to start a puke fest. Even though it would be hilariously gross to freak out little kids. He still wanted to hang onto the last strain of dignity he had left and little kids came up with the worst nicknames that could shrivel his ego down into size.

“Are you. . . okay, Tony?” Her mellow aura consumed his disquiet appearance. She lightly held his hand and guided him over to the table situating him in her seat, taking her half finished plate with her as well. “Are you hungry, because we still have some eggs and bacon left. I can make you a small plate, if you want?” She was already reaching for a clean plate before he could even form a complete sentence. He ignored the stare of the beast’s harsh gaze.

While (Y/n) focused on piling his dish and the man sitting across from him stared him down. Anthony glanced over at the children. The two older kids sitting diagonal from him looked very similar and were talking in a language he really couldn’t describe. They both had pretty long hair and shockingly similar side profiles, eye shape and lip shape. The girl and boy took more after their mother in both features and energy.

The other kid was amazingly small to the other two. The tiny child peered up at him through bang covered eyes like he felt him staring at him. Now that he's thinking about it he recognized this kid as the child from the couch earlier. He was much smaller on closer inspection. He has a decent size beauty mark on the left side of his face underneath his chestnut brown eye. His hair style is nearly the same as his fathers, although he found it cute on this kid from the latter. This kid seemed to be very docile, hugging a small pastel green pillow, snuggling it up against his face and chest. On closer inspection of the petite child he noticed the really far away blank look in the boy’s eyes. Kind of like a dead goldfish.

His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched voice.

“You're very weird looking, ya know.” The older boy spoke up a smirk pulling on the corners of his mouth.

If he could slap a kid and get away with it he would do that in this moment.

“That’s what Sage told me earlier when we snuck in to see you, he also said your legs look like chopsticks.” He shoved his face deeper in the soft material, still gazing directly at him. He hasn’t blinked yet the small bright red veins proved that.

“Well, I’ll have you know that many people find me attractive.” The two young boys raised inquisitive eyebrows at the older man then laughed. “What the hell are you two short stacks laughing at?”

“Your dialect it’s very funny.” The girl chimed in, gazing up from her pile of eggs she’s been picking at since he sat down. “You usually hear your type of voice on cartoon shows.”

“Excuse me for having such a great voice.”

“Yeah, a great voice to keel over to.” The older boy laughed harder. “Ya sound like a cartoon mob boss.”

“Mmh, really funny sounding.” The girl chimed in.

At this point he just really wanted to eat whatever (Y/n)’s puts in front of him and just go back to sleep, again. Her children were a prick on his dick and the total opposite of what he expected would come from between her legs. Well, they do have half of the demons genes in them and would explain why the youngest seems so weird and the other two to be. . . themselves.

(Y/n) strided back over her hips swayed from side to side and she sat a hot plate of eggs and sausage down next to him. She smiled at him before returning back to the sink, not before getting a harsh slap on the ass from the bastard, clashing dishes filled the kitchen’s already noisy room.

Anthony could feel the saliva build up in his mouth as he took in the savory smell of seasoned meat and eggs meeting his nostrils. He must have looked like a slob heaping large amounts of egg into his gaping jaw. It’s been awhile since he’s had a nice meal, he’s usually used to small snacks and the strict health regimen that Val put him on. Even when eating with Cherri it was usually something unhealthy or a quick to go item before he performed on stage.

He was so enamored with the food he didn’t even see the man sitting at the other side of the table rise until he heard giggling. He looked up for a split second before hurriedly turning his head back to the plate. Anthony really didn’t want to see two people kiss especially when he’s eating. Like those high school couples who makeout in the doorway of a classroom, well at least it’s in their home and not causing a problem. But, right now he didn’t want to up chuck what he just ate.

“See you after work my dear,” Another smooch could be heard then he sauntered over to the three kids. Lightly pecking his daughters cheek before ruffling his two sons heads. “Be good for your mom and be nice to our guest while he’s here. We don’t want anything unseemingly happening while he’s in our caring hands.”

They probably didn’t hear it or just ignored the way he phrased the word, but Anthony sure did. Like he planned to do other things to him while he stayed here. Before he could fully make eye contact with the beast itself the man already was walking out into the corridor leading to the front door.

A minute later he could hear the jingling of keys scraping against glass and a door opening and slamming shut. Silence took over the room and he noticed that the two older kids finally stopped laughing. Their breathing slowed down for a bit before they continued their onslaught of giggling.

The dead eyed child was staring at him again. It annoyed him more than it scared him. The young boy blinked a few times before he shoved his small face into his pillow not bringing his head back up.

Anthony mustered up a small chuckled and returned to his plate eating every last piece. He was sensible enough to actually walk his plate over to the sink that would be a lot more helpful, but he’s mostly doing it to squeeze more info from (Y/n).

How the hell did someone like her end up in a relationship with that monster. She has to know some weird secrets about this guy. Or at least tell him how she got stuck in this marriage.

Anthony set his plate off to the side of her, she smiled at him nodding her head before placing the next dish in the drying rack. “So. . . your face is telling me that your brain has a lot of questions for me.” A smirk graced her features, he hated that she could read him like a book. Her wet hands dried themselves on her sweatpants, “Can you guys go play upstairs, while mommy talks with Mr. Anthony.” The two older kids left without question like this were trained into their brains. But, the youngest seems to sit firmly in his chair not even budging an inch or showing any choice of leaving. His intense gaze focused in on (Y/n), she heaved a big sigh picking the small child up and sat down with him. The pillow was quickly forgotten by the small boy as he wrapped his thin arms around his mother.His short legs hung lifelessly on both sides while his arms latched on for dear life around her neck and shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind the extra passenger. We also have to make this quick. I have to edit some papers of mine before the due date.” She managed a meek smile.

“No, I don’t mind.” Anthony glanced back at the small child and the deadlock grip he had on her. “He’s a real mama’s boy, huh.” He smirked.

“He doesn’t like being left alone.” She pushed the boy up further to situate him in a better position, a loud roar of thunder broke the short silence. Making the small boy gasp in shock and burying his face deeper into her neck. “So, you have some questions you want me to answer, right?”

“Yeah, how the hell did you end up with him!” He exclaimed.

“Didn’t I already tell you this earlier or are the meds warping your brain.”

“No,I remember but, I want the full story this time. From beginning to end with no holes.”

(Y/n) paused, her facial expression going dead for a moment before coming back to life and she smiled sweetly at him.

“I’ll tell you the whole story, Toni. But, it’s pretty long and kind of weird now that I think about it.” The kid in her lap settled down on her lap nicely like a small cat or a non hyper dog. “So, buckle in because I’m going to tell you quite a story.”

Anthony situated his back further in the wooden chair, his gaze solely focused on her and only her. Strong yet such kind eyes stared back at him and he could see why someone would fall for her. A forced swallow of air down his windpipe left a weird aftertaste in his mouth.

Releasing a big sigh he nodded over at her to continue, “I’m ready.”

The little boy turned his head around address his presence,"Just tell the story, mama."

"I'm going to give me a minute I'm trying to think of good starting mark." Her eyes lit up with her smile as she stared me down. "Well if I had to start the story off at. I guess I have to start it at a small cafe over a order of venison."

#hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel human au #human au #human angel dust #human alastor #alastor being a jerk #alastor being alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Hi! If requests are still open, could I request something for celebrating a birthday w/ Asahi? It’s my b-day tomorrow, and I’m gonna be spending it all alone cause I’m a LPN. NSFW if you write it, and with she/her pronouns?? I love your writing by the way 😊💛

A?N I am so sorry you’re spending your birthday alone!! I am sending you lots of great wishes from here!!! I went a little crazy with this and it is almost 6 pages long and definitely has some smut. I am so glad you enjoy my writing!! That means the world to me!!! 

Warning: Lots of very cute Asahi and SMUT 

words: 3.2k

If you don’t want the smut feel free to read until they fall asleep on the couch and count that as the rest of the day!! 

“Good morning princess, happy birthday!” Asahi says before kissing the back of your head a few times and pulling you in closer to him for a big squeeze. He kissed down your neck and whispered “time to get up lovey” before letting go of you and getting out of bed himself. You groaned missing the warmth of your boyfriend. 

Before you can even roll over he is already throwing a shirt on and headed to the bathroom. You don’t think twice about it and roll back over for a couple minutes more sleep. When he gets out of the bathroom all he can do is sigh. 

“Come on Y/N I have breakfast reservations at your favorite spot in half an hour” he practically whines at you. You can’t help but sit up and to see him pouting at you. He is just too cute so obviously he wins. You get up and go to your dresser. 

“No no no, I already have an outfit chosen out for you, it’s on the sink in the bathroom,” he smiles at your shocked expression. When you go into the bathroom you see a beautiful sundress, a pair of sunglasses and flats with a little note that says “On our date to the beach you lost your sunglasses after we played in the sand, you told me I owed you another pair, so here’s my payback” You can’t help but smile, he remembered from almost a year ago now. After you got dressed you picked up the sunglasses they were actually from the same beach that you lost your other pair at. 

“Hey where did you get these?” Asahi joins you in the bathroom and wraps his arms around your waist kissing you again.

“From the beach, remember.”

“I remember but these are from the same beach.” 

“I know, I got them for you from the beach.” You can’t help but smile at him, he really went and got you another pair and saved them until your birthday. “Come on birthday girl, that’s only the first of my surprises.” 

You follow him out of the house and to your favorite breakfast spot. When you get there the hostess immediately recognizes Asahi and leads you to your table. 

“What’s all of this about, isn’t there usually a wait even with a reservation.”

“Nope, no wait just breakfast,” he smiles down at you, and boy he couldn’t have been more right. When you sit down your favorite drink and meal was brought out not even five minutes later.

“But we didn’t even order this,” you insisted. 

“Yes we did, it’s your favorite, you get it every time so instead of waiting I had them already make the food for us.” 

You can’t help but blush, he knows you so well. He got your order perfect, you like double chocolate pancakes with fresh strawberries and whip cream, over easy eggs and  like so substitute bacon for sausage. He knew this from the whole three times the two of you had come together, he really did listen to everything you said. It was all so perfect, the two of you sat and talked for over an hour. 

When you were done he linked your arm in his, “off to the next location” 

“What next location?” “Part two of your birthday surprise.”

“No Asahi, breakfast was enough.” 

“Breakfast was not enough, I have the whole day planned, come on it’ll be fun” 

He was right, like always. Next he took you to the art museum downtown and you got to walk through it together and admire all of the beautiful works together. Afterwards you both got smoothies and cookies from the little cafe inside and sat out on the grass in front of the museum and ate them. He had taken you to all of your favorite spots and it wasn’t even two o’clock.

 You had your head resting in Asahi’s lap as he finished his smoothie. This right here was perfect, the two of you just enjoying nature and enjoying each other. Or you were enjoying each other until he suddenly stood up. “Hey, c’mon we’ve got more to do,” his damn smile gets you everytime and you are up and following him again. 

You end up at a dog park. Not just any dog park, the dog park where you first met Asahi. He was with his rescue dog, Miko, and you were with your labradoodle Oliver and the two of them would not stop playing with one another. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive the owner of the Miko was and when it was time for you to go he asked if he could get your number so hopefully your dogs could hang out again. You were a blushing mess and so was he, after that first time seeing each other you both were so in love. So, when you got to the park you couldn’t help but smile. This was where you met your favorite person on Earth and you couldn’t help but just replay the memory over and over in your head. What made it even crazier was when you saw Suga pull up in his minivan. 

“Hey! Y/N happy birthday!” you couldn’t help but pull your friend into a huge hug. “Thanks, what brings you-” 

“BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK” You look over and see Oliver poking his head out the window. 

“Asahi asked if I would meet the two of you here with your dogs, and I didn’t get you anything for your birthday so this seemed perfect.” 

“It is perfect, thank you!” 

He went over to his van and opened up the back door. You had to brace yourself because both Oliver and MIko were barreling towards you at full force. You couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Suga ended up staying with the two of you while you played with your dogs. It was really sweet for Suga to bring your two dogs into the fun. Suga ended up having to leave a little early due to a call for help from Daichi. When your dogs had enough fun chasing each other in the park they both came and laid down by the bench where you and Asahi were watching them. 

“There’s one more thing before we can go home,” Asahi leans down to Oliver’s harness (knowing that you always pet Miko before you leave because Oliver is in love with Asahi not you so you get revenge and pet Miko) and grabs a little box tied to the underside. 

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t tell what he is grabbing. He stands up and hands you the little box. When you open it you see a watch with a picture of the four of you on the face. 

“I love it! Thank you Asahi!” You pull him in for a hug and a sweet kiss. You had no idea how he did it, but he kept surprising you over and over. He made you feel like the most loved girl in the world. 

You walked home with your dogs. When you got home you both curled up on the couch together and watched a movie. You were so exhausted from a long morning that you ended up falling asleep on Asahi and he didn’t mind a bit. When you woke up he was nowhere to be seen. You called his name a few times and noticed that you had a few texts from him.

I left you an outfit for dinner on the bed

Our reservations are at 7 

I’ll meet you there 

Sleep well gorgeous

You checked the time and crap it was already 6:15 so you needed to get yourself ready. You went upstairs and you were not ready for the outfit sitting on your bed. Asahi got you a gorgeous black dress with red heels. He also got you a set of red lingerie that match the heels. 

Just something sexy for after dinner 

You couldn’t believe it, just seeing the beautiful lingerie had you turned on already. You felt sexy and powerful wearing it and you couldn’t help but get excited. It was going to be a difficult dinner to sit through, you were already excited for it to be over. You put the lingerie on under the dress, did your hair and makeup before heading to the restaurant. When you got their you told the hostess that you were part of a party of two for Azumane. She smiled and lead you to Asahi immediately. When you saw him,

H

O

L 

Y 

S

H

I 

T 

He looked hot, so fucking hot. He was wearing a black suit with a black undershirt and his hair tied back. You had seen Asahi dressed nice, but never like this he looked like a greek god. You wished that you could just skip dinner and go have the fun right now. He smiles at you as he gets up and pulls you into a big hug. 

“You look gorgeous” he whispers into your ear. You’re a blushing mess at this point, where did this side of Asahi even come from. He pulls out your chair for you before returning to his seat. You both order your meals and Asahi orders you two a bottle of wine. The food came and was absolutely amazing. You could not keep your mind off how gorgeous Asahi looked. From the way he was holding the wine glass, to the way that his lips parted around the glass. Everything he did was so sexy and you couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you, the dress fit you even better than he thought and just knowing that you had lingerie under it was driving him wild. 

You finished your meals and both shared a piece of cheesecake. It was absolutely delicious and all you could do was just look into each other;s eyes with love and lust. 

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, but comfortable, you were walking with your arms wrapped around one of his. The entire way home you kept stealing glances at one another and blushing. The moment you got in the door Asahi picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. He put you down and was on top of you in an instant kissing you cupping your cheek so you would kiss him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair and gently tugged on them to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t get enough of him and the smell of his cologne made your knees weak. 

Asahi stopped kissing you and pulled away for just long enough to help you out of your dress. When he saw you in only the red lingerie he let out a deep moan completely unable to stop his growing erection. You tried to undress him but he wasn’t having any of it. His hands were on your breasts, kneading them as he pulled your bra aside and took one in his mouth. He was nipping and sucking on your nipple and bit your boob until he had left a sufficient amount of hickeys on one before moving to the other. Once he is satisfied with his work he moves down to your panties. He starts kissing them and playing with the fabric right by where you need him to touch you most. He starts kissing you through your panties and even licks you a few times through them before disregarding them. Immediately he is on you and licked you up and down once before moaning. 

“You’re so wet for me babe” he was immediately back to work. He was going slow and taking his time to enjoy all of this.

 It felt amazing but it was too slow for anything to happen, you couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his hair and whined, “Asahi please.” 

“Babe let me enjoy you on your birthday, I promise it’ll make you feel great” he continued back to his work and slowly started picking it up, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to his face.

He thrusts his tongue into you and uses his nose to rub your clit. You can’t help but try and grind on his face for the last bit of pleasure you need. You can’t help but grab at the sheets as he starts to pick up the pace. He is holding you to his face and harshly sucking on your clit while slowly inserting two fingers. He is pumping them in and out of you and all you can do is moan his name over and over again. He is the only thing going through your mind and he likes it that way. 

When you come you come hard, moaning his name and pulling his hair. He doesn’t stop his pace until you have completely come down from your high. He is taking his time to enjoy all of you and to lick you completely clean. Once Asahi is done he goes and kisses your inner thighs while kneading your boobs between his hands. He is taking his time to worship you and to show you how much he cares about you. Between kisses he mutters little nothings about how gorgeous and perfect you are and how you are his entire world. He slowly starts kissing his way up your chest. He plants a kiss to each of your breasts before moving up and kissing your neck and behind your ear. 

He leans in and whispers, “I love you Y/N and I want today to be memorable,” he slowly starts circling on your clit just to keep you needy. You try and grind down on his hand for more stimulation than he is giving you. He pulls his hand away, “I need you to trust me, okay?” 

You can’t help but nod your head excited for what’s to come, he then returns his hand and starts back to where it was before, this time rubbing faster and harder. He works his fingers on your clit patiently, waiting until you can’t handle it anymore. He is kissing your neck and running his other hand through your hair and squeezing your breast. You start to feel the hot sensation again and can’t help but want more. You start squirming and grasping at his back for any extra friction. 

Asahi senses that you’re getting close and stands up to remove his own clothing. You can’t help but whine at the loss of contact and help him get undressed so you can get back to it faster. You help unbutton his shirt and you’re as awestruck as always. He is so toned and fit that it just turns you on even more. He is pure muscle and you can’t deny that it doesn’t make you even more excited. Once he has completely undressed Asahi cups your face with both of his hands and pulls you up to meet his lips. He is kissing you with the kind of passion that tells you that he trusts you completely. You reach down and slowly stroke his length and he can’t help but moan into your mouth from the contact. 

“Asahi please, I’m ready please” 

He can’t help but grant your wish, he lines himself up and slowly pushes into you. The both of you are moaning and grasping onto each other. Asahi knows that he’s big and always waits for you to give him permission to move. 

While you adjust he is kissing your neck, “you’re doing so amazing babe,” he can’t help but push the hair out of your face and look into your eyes, “jeeeze Y/N, I love you so much.” 

You can’t help but get soft at his words, you cup his face in your hands and pull him into a quick kiss before nodding. He knows exactly what this means and starts slowly thrusting into you, carefully watching to make sure that you’re enjoying yourself. You start moaning and encourage him to go faster. He starts going harder and faster until he is practically pounding into you. You’re incoherently moaning and all you can say is “yesyesyes Asahi babe fuck yes” as you grab onto his biceps and grab at his back as something to keep you grounded.

 He is moaning and unable to keep himself steady. Lucky for him you are close, he can feel your walls clenching around him. 

“Come for me.” That’s all he has to say before you are completely coming undone under him. You are moaning as you feel all of the pleasure. He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut due to pure ecstasy of your walls squeezing him so tight. After a few more thrusts he is coming inside of you and moaning your name. Once the two of you have both come down from your highs, he is kissing you over and over telling you how great of a job you did for him. He then gets up and leaves your bedroom. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you happy birthday dear Y/N, Happy birthday to you!” he sings as he enters the bedroom with a little cake with a single candle lit on the top. He also grabbed two forks and the two of you enjoy cake in bed.  When you are done with cake Asahi smiles at you, “I have one more surprise for you,” He reaches into his night stand and pulls out a little glass box that has a coin in it. 

“It’s from our one year anniversary where we threw coins into the fountain, I wished to be happy with you forever. When you were in the bathroom I heard a man tell me that they were going to clean out the coins from the fountain the next day and I couldn’t lose my wish. I went back the next morning and grabbed my wish as well as some of the magic fountain water. I wanted to give it back to you as a thank you for stealing my heart.” he hands you the box. 

“Asahi, I love it so much,” you clutch the box close to your chest and just smile at him, “You were my wish at the fountain too” you blush happily. You can’t help but pull him into a final kiss for the night. The two of you are exhausted from a long day and you both lay down and he pulls you onto his chest so you can fall asleep just the way you woke up-wrapped in his arms. 

“Happy birthday Y/N, you make me the happiest man on earth,” and with that he kisses your forehead and you’re off to sleep happy to have spent the day with the man you love. 

#azumane asahi #ashai azumane #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Karasuno #haikyuu asahi #asahi x reader #asahi headcanons #asahi azumane x reader #hq asahi #asahi azumane imagine #writing #request

[madneywhre]

The Misfits

Hi! So I am currently writing a highschool AU called The Misfits. It is about the BAU as teenagers. Going through four of the roughest years of their lives. Highschool sucks for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Rolling with the punches of life and high school, these students find solace in each other. Anyways! It continues after the break

CW! Mentions of mental abuse, emotional neglect, physical abuse, suicide, and homophobic slurs.

---

Spencer woke up early… way too early, but he was excited. This was his first day of highschool. Sure, he was at least five years younger than everyone in his grade, but he was ready. His mother on the other hand was not. She hadn’t moved out of her room in three days. He walked into the room and went over to her bed. 

“Good Morning Mama, I start high school today.” He says seeing that she was awake and reading. She looked at him and back at her book without saying a word, he realized that she was too far gone to respond right now. He walked out of the room sadly, going to the kitchen to look for food of some sort. He had become used to doing things by himself, adapting to the new changes. His dad had left six months earlier, which only worsened his mother's downward spiral. Spencer wanted his mom to get him ready for his first day: to cook him breakfast, pack his lunch, maybe even do the cheesy pictures that other moms did. But not Diana. No. Never Diana. Electronics were evil, from the government. His dad had bought him a phone and paid the bill; the only thing he did. Not that he ever answered Spencer's attempts to reach out but it was nice to have though, just in case. 

After standing on plenty of stools, Spencer decided on poptarts. He popped the strawberry pastries in the toaster and shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking as he waited for the poptarts to become warm and toasty. His mind wandered to a time two years ago, his first day of middle school. His mom was still lucid then, she had made him breakfast and read to him. He was only seven then,he was nine now; always was smart for his age. It wasn’t easy to be the youngest in the grade. He got jostled around a lot and took a lot of elbows to the nose, but he was used to it. He was also used to the looks he got when he did the advanced work in class,the looks of doubt. He hated them. His attention popped back to the pastries when they sprung up in the toaster. He jumped before realizing what had just happened. He pulled them out and hissed at the heat, dropping them onto a paper towel. He sat and ate, allowing his mind to wander again. Remembering his mom before she went down hill. Before he was forced into being his own parent, he was already expected to be an adult.He just wanted to be cared for, like most kids did,he was only nine after all. Sure, he was in highschool, but he was still little. He still wanted the crutch of his mom and dad. He wanted to be held. When he went into his mom’s room earlier, he had hoped for her to scoop him up and give him a kiss on the forehead, and read some poetry to him. Or even just talk to him. Just be a human, and she would, in time…

After he finished eating, he had to rush to get dressed. Trying his best not to think about the fact that he had to walk the five and a half miles to school. He was too young to sign himself up for the school bus, obviously too young to drive, and on top of that he didn’t have anyone to carpool with. He rushed into his room and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks, his old striped comfort sweater, and his tennis shoes. The only reason he wore a sweater was because it helped calm him down when he was having sensory issues, though he was always cold. Probably from the lack of vitamins in his diet. He rushed to pack his lunch, not able to find his old lunch bag, so he used a grocery sack. He remembered when his dad would pack his lunch and he lost some composure. Small tears stinging at the corners of his eye, a lump rising in his throat, the building pressure behind his nose. He pushed it all down, while making a sloppy PB and J and throwing a sleeve of Saltines into the sack. He called it a day and got his bag, shoving his lunch in the torn backpack. He walked out of the door and started the trek to school, getting to watch the sunrise. The purples made a small smile peak at his cheeks, the pinks mixing with the oranges made his chest feel warm. His hands flapped happily and he walked with a small bounce in his step. Sweat already starting to bead at his forehead.

  It took him an hour and a half, but he got to the school in enough time to get his schedule. He knew that he was assigned a guide for the first day, just to help him around the school because he was so young. Spencer walked into the main office, and didn’t even clear the top of the counter, his messy curls peeking up from behind it. 

“Um, excuse me. I need to get my schedule.” He said in a squeaky voice. 

“Okay honey, just come right around here.” The nice secretary lady said. Her name plate read Alex Blake. 

The small boy walked around to her side of the counter and smiled at her. “I’m Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D.” He said confidently, trying to show that he belonged here. 

“Oh the youngin. Okay honey, your freshman guide is Aaron Hotchner. He is a Junior. You guys surprisingly have a similar schedule, so stick with him. Let me know if you need anything.” She said, pointing him over to a tall ravenette man. 

He walked over, and in a small voice approached him. “Hi, I’m Spencer, your freshman. I need my schedule, please.” He said with a squeak, his voice rising in pitch because he was nervous. 

“Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II.” He said without looking at the kid. He handed him his schedule and held back a gasp. “How old are you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Spencer wasn’t surprised this was one of the first questions. He had become used to this. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.” He liked how that had worked. So far, this hadn’t sucked. 

…

Jennifer had woken up hours earlier, going on a run before school. She did her best to stay in shape during her off season, still allowing herself to indulge in normal teenage things from time to time. WIthin the three hours she had been awake, the young woman had already worked out and showered, standing in front of her mirror, looking at the shell of the person she once was. Tired, dark bags fell under her eyes, her face puffy from the long nights spent crying herself to sleep. Her sister had died seven months ago. Her sister's room had been left untouched, besides the clothes that she had taken from her closet. She would sleep in her sister's hoodie, only to put it back the next day so it wouldn’t lose her smell. Her death hit her harder than she let on. She had slowly started to become numb inside, forcing a smile only around her parents and friends. Everytime she passed her sister's bedroom a small piece of her heart would break again. 

Today was supposed to be the day her older sister started Senior year. They were going to be in school together for one year. Their year. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. Refusing to let tears fall from her eyes once more. She felt so broken and weak, though everyone told her it was normal. It would probably be easier if everywhere she turned Rosalyn wasn’t staring back at her. Her door being open, a crack, her shampoo bottle, the untouched toothbrush. Everywhere Jennifer looked she saw her dead sister. She refused to shower in the bathtub after finding her sister in it. She tried… once. It ended with her shaking and crying in the tub, her mom having to turn off the water and pick her up. Since then she barely walked into that bathroom. She blinked, being brought back to reality. She puts on a burnt red dress with paisley print on it, paired with simple white shoes. She brushed through her hair, and tied it up, a ribbon lacing around the ponytail. She had opted for a softer sense of style. Mainly to portray the happiness she longed to feel. 

She soon walked downstairs, greeted by her mother. Her father was already at work, having seemed burying himself in it since the death. Her mom was the American Dream of a mother: supportive, stay at home mom that cooks breakfast and dinner. She loved her mom, though she wished she saw her break down just once. Not just act like everything was okay. 

“Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?” Sandy asked cheerfully.

Jennifer looked at her and put on the fake smile that had an all too comfortable home on her face. “Good morning, Mom. I slept well. What’s for breakfast?” She asked in a happy voice.

“French toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, and orange juice.” She answered, setting a plate of food in front of her. Sandy was sweet, really. And Jennifer appreciated her so much for the things she did. 

Jennifer's eyes lit up when the food was sat in front of her. She took a sip of her orange juice and smiled at her mom. “Thank you Mama. It looks really good.” 

Sandy smiled softly, living to see the smile of her daughter. It broke her when Rosalyn killed herself. She never let Jennifer see how it hurt her. She had to be strong for her daughter, keep her afloat too. She would cry when Jennifer wasn’t around. Sitting on the rug of her eldest’s floor, her smell enveloping her as she sobbed into it. Blaming herself for not seeing the warning signs of her daughter's depression. The withdrawal, the sudden “I love you’s’, soon to be followed by long hugs. 

Both ladies had happy, light conversations until it was time to leave for school. The time Jennifer was dreading. Sandy drove her happily, happy to see her daughter entering such a crucial time in her life. Reminding her not to forget that she had volleyball practice after school. After multiple rounds of I love yous and goodbyes, Jennifer walked into the school. She walked to the Secretary and was assigned her Freshman Guide. Emily Prentiss. Jennifer shrugged it off until she saw the other female. The blonde had known that she liked girls, coming to terms with it over the summer, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Emily was gorgeous. She had a totally opposite look of the younger woman. Tall, pale, dark haired beauty. Jennifer felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘Keep it together Jareau!’ She thought to herself.

“So you’re the freshie I have. Good to know. I’m Emily.” She said with a nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” she said with a squeak in her voice that she swallowed. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ. Fits you better. Here’s your schedule. Try to keep up.” She says handing her it and walking off.

JJ. She liked it. She made a mental note of it. From this day forward she was JJ. 

…

Penelope has already been up for hours. Grooming herself to look perfect for the first day. She wanted to make sure everyone knew who Penelope Garcia was,though she wished her last name fit her better. During roll call she always had to explain that she was, in fact, Penelope Garcia. She had buried her feelings with her parents. Six feet under. After her parents died, she moved to Virginia and moved in with her mom’s best friend, of whom she thought of, and called her aunt. This was the first year she wanted to be back in school,the previous year she opted to do homeschooling. She didn’t want to be around anyone, but she decided that this year would be different. She would push herself to be happy. She was going to force herself into her old happy persona. Maybe it would start to feel real to her again. Though the issue wasn’t that she was sad, it was that she wouldn’t allow herself to be. She felt the need to be happy all the time. Show everyone how strong she is. That was except for one person, Derek Morgan. He was the next door neighbor's son. Her aunt had set her up to hang out with him because they had one thing in common: a dead parent. They had hit it off. He would come over and just talk to her some days when she was having a bad day, sitting out in a tree that she thought was secluded, until Derek came up. She was crying and he let her cry on his shoulder. He told her that it would all feel better soon. That it would take time. And from that moment forward, they were best friends. Soon morphing into more. This summer they had made it official. 

Penelope smelled the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes through the air and followed it downstairs. Greeting her aunt with a bubbly smile. “Good morning Alyssa! It smells amazing!” She complemented. They both sat and ate, light conversation flowing between them. She received the text that Derek was ready, finally home and showered from his football practice. 

“Goodbye Alyssa. Derek is gonna drive me to school today. Love you!” She called out from the doorway. Her black skirt ruffling up in the breeze. 

“Have a good day Pen!” She called back, the screen door slamming in response. 

Penelope walked over to Derek’s house, knocking on the door. He greets her with a toothy smile. “Good morning baby girl” He says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he walked out to his car with her. They had been dating for about four months, though they had been pining for at least eight months.

“Good morning handsome. Are you ready for sophomore year?” She asked, smiling at the male. He always held her hand while they drove. He could drive early because he had a birthday that fell early in the year. 

“Of course I am, are you? I know how hard this is. Especially since you’re new.” 

“I’m ready. I’m just gonna take this year by the horns, no one knows me, no one knows what happened. No one knows my past. All they know is I’m the new girl. That's all they need to know.” She says matter of factly. 

Derek looked over at her and smiled. “Okay, but remember. I understand, and I am always here. No matter what, no matter how bad you think it is. I’m in your corner.” 

Penelope blushed softly, “Thank you… I know.” 

After ten minutes they pull up to the school. Penelope took a deep breath and swallowed. Smoothing out her pink top. She looked cute, really. Pink top, black skirt, white shoes. Though, her and Derek looked out of place together. 

She looks over at him and smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “Lets go kick ass.” 

Derek let out a nice hearty laugh and rolled his eyes, “Lets go kick ass.”

They walked into the school, hand in hand, smiles on both of their faces, like nothing could ruin their happy high, 

…

Five a.m always came too early in Derek’s opinion. Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he threw on his practice uniform and grabbed his equipment bag, heading to the field. When he arrived, he ran his five laps around the field and then drank water, heading out to practice. Three long hours later he was dripping sweat, putting away his cleats.

 One of his teammates comes over to him, “Yo Morgan, you coming out to breakfast with the team? We’re going to IHop before school. It’s a tradition.” 

“Nah man, I’m good. Thank you though.” Derek said, not wanting to give an explanation to why. 

“Come one man! It’s tradition! It's your first year on varsity, just give me a good reason why, and I will leave you alone. Just one good, legitimate reason why.” 

“I’m… I’m picking up my girl okay? It’s her first day here, and I promised her I would pick her up and drive her. Chill?” 

“Show me a picture of ‘your girl’ and I’ll leave it be. Lady Man Morgan.” He teased, pushing his shoulder.

Derek pulled out his phone and showed him his lockscreen, him and Penelope together, Her head resting on his chest. There was a significant height difference between the pair. “That's my girl. Her name is Penelope, but I call her Pen.” He boasts, until he hears a scoff and a chuckle. Who did this kid think he was?

“Oh, THAT’S your girl. Dude just skip her. She ain’t cute anyways.” 

Derek felt a small bubble of anger rise in his chest, “Watch what you say, that’s my girl. You right, she ain’t cute, she is beautiful. I can’t see what would make you think otherwise McClellan.” He replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? The  ELEPHANT in the room… Well picture I guess.” He added snarkily. Of course he was talking about her weight, most people did. It always pissed Derek off in public, when people would see them at dinner and stare at her. Making comments about her or what she was eating. 

Derek glared at him, “Oh… so you’re that type of asshole. Okay, well be sure to never invite me anywhere with you again. I would much rather hang out with my girlfriend. She is gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, and stronger than you would ever be.” He spat, turning away and texting her. ‘Good morning, gorgeous. I hope you slept well, I just got out of practice. Will be ready to go at 9:00’ 

She responded almost immediately, like normal. ‘Good morning babe :), I slept amazing, I’ll meet you at your front door.’ 

Derek smiled and put his phone away, driving home. Greeted by his two older sisters in the kitchen, Desiree and Sarah. They basically raised him. His mom was always busy working as a nurse at the hospital, and his dad died in Chicago when he was ten. It was still hard, even after six years. Big dates always reminds him of the lack of a father. The first day was no different. His fifth grade year was his last first day with his dad. His dad would always make chocolate chip waffles and give him a pep talk. Tell him to be good, make sure he was always kind, and then kiss his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He missed it every year. 

Desiree tried to keep the tradition of chocolate chip waffles alive, trying to keep their dad alive with the memories. “Der! I made waffles for you, for after you shower. Please  shower first. You smell like sweaty boy and feet.” She called from the kitchen, not even seeing him yet. 

Derek just laughs in response and goes upstairs getting ready for the day. He looks in the mirror and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Dad, I promise this year I am going to do my best in school, I’m going to stay out of trouble, and I’m always going to be kind. I gotta girlfriend this year. You would love her pops. She’s feisty, she’s so smart and kind. Her folks are gone too. Maybe you know them… maybe not. I don’t know how it works, but I gotta go pops. I love you.” He said into the mirror. Sometimes he would talk to the picture of his dad that he hung on his mirror, looking himself in the eyes. He found it helped on the hard days.

He walked downstairs and smiled when he smelled the waffles, “You guys are the best!” He commented through a mouthful of hot waffle. Light banter flows between the siblings, followed by hugs. Derek leaves when Penelope walks over to his house, hearing her humming something before she even knocks at the door. He smiles widely at her, she looked pretty today. He always had thought she was pretty, even when they had first met. “Good morning, baby girl!” He greeted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could secretly get a smell of her perfume. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla, or cake. 

The two drove to school, Derek holding her hand the entire time. They hadn’t kissed or anything yet. Just hand holding, they had cuddled while watching movies, but they both didn’t want to hurt the other. Derek knew she wasn’t in the best state, so he was always her best friend first, boyfriend came second. 

He looks over at her and smiles when she says, “Let’s kick ass.” “Let’s kick ass.” 

…

Emily woke up bright and early, dealing with her mother. Of course, today of all days she had to be home. She woke up to her light being flipped on, “Emily! Get out of bed, it is six in the morning. You have school today!” Her mother said, her voice raised. 

“Mother. It’s six. School starts at NINE FIFTEEN.” She said, her pillow now over her eyes, “Leave me alone.” She groans

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you have two minutes to get out of bed before I pour water on you. Now. And look presentable.” She commands, the door slamming shut with her exit. 

Emily groaned and got out of her bed, her dark messy curls falling over her eyes. She lets out an annoyed huff and throws her hair into a messy ponytail and walks to the bathroom. She washes her face and then goes into her room, pulling out an outfit. Fishnet tights, ripped jeans, cuffed of course, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt, and a band tee over it. She slipped on her Doc’s and an assortment of chains. Her mom always hated how she looked, how she dressed. It started out as a way to piss her mom off, show her that she isn’t some political figure. She never would be. She sat down at her vanity to do her makeup, she favored dark colors, purples and blacks mainly. She smiled as she winged her eyeliner, it came out perfectly. The raven headed girl decided to go downstairs, drink some coffee. Maybe it would make her feel better. 

When she got downstairs her mother audibly gasped, “Emily! You look like the grim reaper's wife!” 

Emily looked at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet and getting the items to make her coffee, pouring the cream into the bottom of a tumbler filled with ice, pouring the hot coffee over it. “As long as SHE is pretty, I’ll take it,” She mouthed, knowing her mother hated her sexuality. She often told her it was a phase, just a rebellion. 

Elizabeth dropped the spoon she was using to eat her oats, “Emily, you and I both know that you’re just rebelling. Don’t talk that homosexual talk in this household. It’s dirty and imperfect. We’re Prentiss’ we don’t do those things.” 

The teen looked at her and scoffed, her heart dropping. She took it, always did, always would. Though she would never show her mother the pain she caused; she would never let her win. The second that Emily showed any trace of hurt, she would win. Emily translated that to her normal social life. Always making herself look like a hardass, scaring everyone around her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, or else her mother would use it, and treat it like a weakness. Emily was always a pawn in her mother's political games. She knew it. 

Emily had let the stress get to her, taking the coffee upstairs, she dug in her bedside drawer to grab her old friend. She would smoke weed whenever she needed to relax, whenever her life seemed like too much. She was high most of the time. She normally used a dab pen, though sometimes she would use a (joint/blunt). She never used bongs, she held herself higher than that. She put the pen to her mouth and inhaled. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hold…. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated this process a couple of times, feeling the buzz of more vapor in her lungs than air, knowing that's her sign to stop. She could longboard to school now. Forget about the rest of her problems momentarily. Though, it was less than ideal to do in her boots. 

She goes downstairs, and thankfully her mother is gone. She said her goodbyes to her nanny, Amanda, and walked out the front door with her long board in one hand, her backpack on, and her music blaring in her ears. She would listen to a mix of most everything. Sometimes it was screamo, sometimes it was soft pop. Today it was her love playlist. She liked to imagine herself riding alongside a pretty girl, holding her hand as they skated together. She pushed the two miles to school, arriving early anyways. She makes a beeline for the secretary. She had become close to her the previous school year after Blake found her crying in the bathroom because of her mother. The vile names she had spit at her. Ever since then she had become a confidant. 

“Blake! You will not believe what happened. Ugh! It was so fucking, sorry, freaking stupid!” She huffed, pulling a chair besides her desk.

“Well, good morning to you too Emily. What happened?” She asked, holding back a laugh

“Well for starters, my mother was home. That in and of itself is horrible. Then she wakes me up at six this morning, demanding I get up and dressed. So I did. But THAT wasn’t good enough for her either, now was it?” She spat angrily, her hands tapping on her leg that was bouncing up and down, anxiety still very obviously present.

“Oh… wow. She said something about your clothes didn’t she?”

“OF COURSE she did. Because GOD FORBID her precious little perfect angel. She said something about me looking like the Grim Reaper’s wife. So I said as long as SHE is pretty, I don’t care. That thoroughly pissed her off. It’s like she just doesn’t care. I’m not her perfect little girl, and she can’t use me, so she decides that I’m just not good enough. All A’s and on honor roll, not to mention the advanced classes. But THAT'S not good enough.” She ranted, the older woman listening, nodding her head and adding small affirmatives.

“I’m sorry that she is like that. I think that your outfit is quite cool, and she has no reason to get mad at you over that. It is your sexuality, and you can’t control who you like. I wish I could help you, but from what I’ve heard, she isn’t around much, and your nanny is pretty accepting.” 

Emily nodded, taking a ragged breath, “You’re right… I better shut up, there is a freshman” Emily says, seeing a blonde girl walk in. She looked like that Junior that committed suicide. Shit. That was her sister. She was gorgeous, unique looking. She was soft. Her hair framing her angular face perfectly. She was just beautiful. Emily honestly forgot to breathe for a moment, letting her face turn a rosy color before realizing what she was doing. She shook her head and got up, walking behind the desk, over to distract herself. 

It took about ten minutes, but Alex came over to Emily, presenting her with the freshman. Her mind started to race, the pretty girl standing in front of her, leaving her speechless. She soon heard that her name was Jennifer. JJ… It fit. It was soft enough to be spoken with the utmost love, but also to be called carelessly. She made it known too. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ, it fits you better. Here’s your schedule, try to keep up.” She spoke back, trying so hard not to turn into a pile of mush in front of her. She turned on her heels and walked fastly in the other direction, making sure no one could see the radiant smile painted on her face. 

…

Aaron woke up at 5:30, making sure he had enough time to get breakfast ready for his mother and his little brother. He had always made sure to step up, wanting to make the house a more peaceful place. His dad had begun taking his rough days and frustrations out on Aaron, soon becoming more than just yelling. The young boy made sure to keep his brother and mother safe, taking the brunt of the abuse. His father died when he was fourteen, and he had a wave of relief crash over him. He knew that he didn’t have to take the abuse any longer, he didn’t have to wait until his father went to sleep to do things because he was afraid of getting thrown against the wall. He didn’t have to step in between his mother and his father, letting the punches land on his body. The first time his father ever hit Sean was the day Aaron knew he wasn’t able to be a kid. He grew up extremely fast, acting and talking like an adult from the age of eight. He had never learned how to be a kid. He never knew how to play with other kids. And that would come to affect him. He was always seen as the hardass, from the clothes he would wear, to the way he talked. He was always more mature, not laughing at the jokes his classmates would tell, not really having many friends. He always stuck up for everyone though. He would see freshmen being made fun of by upperclassmen and he would make sure he put a stop to it. 

The ravenette would make his family breakfast everyday, today he was making them french toast and eggs. He saw a very sleepy looking Sean bound down the hallway, his hair a sleep ridden mess. “Good morning, breakfast is on the table. I need to go get ready for school. You have forty five minutes to eat and get dressed. I’m walking you to the bus stop this morning.” He said leaving the room, running into his mother in the hallway. “Good morning mama, breakfast is on the table. Have a good day at work.” 

The male got into the shower quickly, rushing to get ready. He pulled on a pair of khakis and a green polo shirt, looking like a dad about to go golfing. He chuckled and rolled his eyes at his reflection, smoothing out his hair. He looked at his phone and realized that he needed to get a move on. He took Sean to the bus stop, walking back for his friend, Dave Rossi to pick him up. Dave and him had been friends since elementary school, seeking solace in each other. He was the stability that Dave needed, and Dave was the rebellion he needed. The man pulled up in his classic convertible. Aaron climbed into the front seat, relaxing into the leather. 

“Hey Dave, thanks for picking me up.” He piped up with a small smile.

“Aaron! It’s no issue. How is Sean and Amanda?” 

“Oh, they’re good. Sean misses you, he keeps asking me when you’re coming over again. Mom misses you too.” 

Dave smiled at him and hummed in response, “I’ll have to come over one night for dinner” He said, pulling into the school. It was a short drive, but it was one that was well worth the gas.

Aaron walked into the school building and met with Blake, getting introduced with his freshman. Spencer Reid. When he saw the boy he was confused, he looked like a child. “Hi, I’m Aaron. What’s your name?”

“Spencer, I’m your freshman. I need my schedule.” He squeaked out. Damn he even sounded young. 

Aaron was puzzled. How old was this kid?  “Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II. How old are you?” He asked, his voice lower in pitch.

Spencer looked up at him. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.”

Aaron looked at him, keeping his face in a calm manner. Nine. He was nine in high school. He knew that he needed to protect him. He was an easy target. He led the boy to their first hour, showing him the ropes. Maybe this year wouldn’t be terrible. 

…

David woke up to the smell of food cooking. This was new. Normally he was home alone. He used to have his nanny Laura around, but  when he started highschool his parents decided he was old enough to stay home without constant supervision. He missed the company though, seeing as how they had grown a nice friendship in the time. He wandered downstairs and saw his parents in the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. They were home… For the first time in at least a month. 

“Ma! Pa!” He greeted from the doorway, soon walking into the kitchen. He felt a warm bubble of happiness in his chest, something he felt less and less. The young man was lonely to say the least. He never had his parents around as a kid. He was always being handed around from nanny to butler, his parents deciding to buy his love instead. It started with nice toys, soon turning to electronics, and then a car. He was spoiled, but not on his own accord. He knew that his parents felt guilty for how they were absent in his life. 

“Bambino!” His father greets, kissing the side of his head obnoxiously like the Italian father he was. Though the warmth of the moment was short lived when his phone rang, calling both him and Mrs. Rossi into work. Dave sighed, knowing that no arguing or sadness could help his case. 

Dave sat in silence, eating the eggs his dad had made for him. He put his dirty dishes in the sink rinsing them off to make his job easier for later. Even though he had people to do these things for him, he insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t that lazy. He knew that he would be on his own, so he figured he needed to know those basic life skills. He did get to learn some things from his friend Aaron. Aaron and him had been friends since fourth grade, despite the social classes. He thought of Aaron like an older brother, though they were the same age. He needed the responsibility and boundaries the other male had, craving that himself. 

Dave walked upstairs, getting ready for the day. A hot shower, followed by jeans, a white tee-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair messily fluffed to the side. He went for a Greaser esc style. He packed his bag, soon going out to his car to pick Aaron up. He felt bad for the man because he didn’t drive yet, he was too busy to deal with minimal things. Or that is what he said. When he got to the males house, he smiled warmly. He was so alone at home, any interaction made him happy. When Aaron told him Sean missed him his heart swelled. Dave was an only child. He always loved children, being around them, playing or talking to them, coloring, really anything they wanted. He thought of the Hotchner family as his family away from home. Amanda being around more than his mother ever was. 

Dave pulled into the school at 7:15, leaving time to screw around before his first hour. His grades never suffered from his antics. He felt himself slipping into the persona of David Rossi, the class clown. He acted different at school, making himself overly obnoxious, trying to be funny because he wanted acceptance. Was that really too much to ask?

#spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds au #high school au #themisfits