#writers block + school work + work work = busy time and is annoying

[carpehistoryandthepens]

Legacy (what is a legacy?) Part nine

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

Hamilton, the world was wide enough. LMM.

one, two, three, four, Five, six seven, eight

Summary: Mike is 13. Born May 2009. Sid didn’t know he had a son. All Mike had was hope and a prayer for his and his half-sister’s safety.

(Sid is a dad of a teen he didn’t know about AU) Sidgeno.

Warnings: (for the total story) post-child abuse (all off-screen but it affects things and is spoken about often), learning how to parent, panic attacks, anxiety, based on last season, OCs?, realization about sexuality. Post breakups. Desperate lack of in-depth research for CPS in both PA/CA, melodrama?, kidfic, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with the law for drama/storytelling purposes.

-

Zhenya winced as he woke up and opened his bedroom door. Everything was blurry, and he wasn't wearing his glasses, but he sensed something was wrong. He had been mildly dizzy when he woke up, and he could hear Nikita coughing in his sleep in his bedroom. 

A terrible smell, like rotten eggs, filled the air.

Fuck. That wasn't a good sign. They didn't have eggs in the house at the moment. They finished them yesterday. 

The smell got worse as he got to the ground floor. Walking around, he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. 

Double fuck. Zhenya grabbed his phone and booked it up the stairs. He knocked on Anna's door, pausing momentarily before coming in. 

She was half asleep, glaring at him, clearly unhappy to be woken up. "Zhenya?" she asked, pushing herself up. 

"I think we need to leave." He said in a rush, urgency bleeding into his words. "Maybe call our gas guy to check our pipes." 

As she woke up more, the smell came through the open doorway toward the bed. The problem of being wealthy: better insulation of doorways – it kept most of the smell away. 

She scrunched up her nose as she caught the terrible scent. "Ugh. Yeah. Let's do that." She pushed herself out of bed and started to get ready. 

Nikita coughed again down the hall, a deep, racking cough that wasn't like his typical colds. 

Anna and Zhneya both winced. "How about you take Nikita to practice today, and I'll call the maintenance guy?" she asked. 

Zhenya agreed; at least he knew Nikita wouldn't ask too many questions if Zhenya remembered to bring the mini sticks.  

-

Mike did his [MW1] damnedest to stay out of Sid's way when he got to the rink with Marisol. 

He stayed away from Geno, Nikita, and the few of the other kids their fathers brought to the camp. Which sucked. He liked Geno, and Marisol got along with the other kids at the party last night. 

But it was Mike and Marsiol's fault the Pens lost last night, and Mike wasn't letting Sid figure that out. 

Not if losing badly in the preseason was a precursor to the season. 

Mike wasn't going to get in the way of the best thing that could happen to them; to do that, he had to stay out of the way of the literal hockey superstar, probably his biological father. Maybe it wasn't fair to keep that from Sid, but Mike hadn't been able to leave his fucking aunt's house by being fair. 

Instead of staying to meet the other kids, Mike set his and Marisol's stuff up in an unused office that overlooked the rink rather than in their regular place in the player's lounge. At least, Mike reassured himself, he could see the Pens practice better here than in the player's lounge. 

Mike spent the last few days lost and overwhelmed. But while watching the preseason game at Rusty's home with the other children the previous night, it may be his fault Sid wasn't playing that well. 

During one of Sid's shifts in the second period – with an offhand mention about Sid's game day rituals- Mike realized that he had broken them. Or maybe just interfered with them? Mike didn't know. He had to research Sid's pre-game day and stay out of his way. 

But Mike frowned at the ice from the ledge he and Marisol had chosen as their own away from the team; it wasn't enough. When Sid was on the ice, they watched. Or really, Mike watched; Marisol played with the few stuffed animals he could bring. 

The Pens still lost their preseason game yesterday, and it was his and Marisol's fault. They were a big distraction to Sid, and it showed. Sid didn't play the best that Mike had seen; Sid didn't even play great. 

That must be Mike and Marisol's fault. They were the only thing that was different this season. there was no such thing as "dad power." Coach Rob had yelled at one of the u18 boys for talking about him and his girlfriend having a kid – maybe it would get him seen by the scouts before the draft. The kid looked so scared; as far as Mike knew, he and his girlfriend didn't have a kid, and he had been drafted. 

As the practice went on, Mike watched and worried. Sid seemed to be skating well…. maybe it was a fluke? What if it wasn't? What if Sid wanted them to leave? That private school looked like it had dorms. Where would Marisol go if Mike was sent there? 

He was already getting so comfortable with this life, which terrified Mike. Even though it was such a short time, seeing Sid's agent yesterday was eye-opening. Sid was a star, and Mike could not get in the way of that. 

Sid honestly cared about them. Or at least it seemed like that. He was a good person. Mike had slept through the night for the first time in months. It helped that Sid had not mentioned Marisol having her own room or taking her away at all.

Not like his aunt. Aunt Cynthia had pushed for them to be separated. 

At first, she didn't want to take Marisol in at all; all she wanted to do was take him in. Really. It wasn't even her who wanted him. It was her creepy asshole of a husband, Rodger. 

Rodger had spent the entire six months they lived with them, saying in turn that Mike was as good as his own son and Mike was good for nothing, just like his mother. Mike snorted to himself; if that was how that man raised kids, Mike was glad he didn't have of his own. Mike was not Rodger's son, but Rodger didn't believe that – no matter how much Mike told him. 

"Mike?" Marisol asked, looking up from her stuffed unicorn. 

"Yes, Marisol?" Mike asked in Spanish. He had to keep on speaking to her in Spanish. No one else will. He wasn't about to let her lose their parents. 

"Are we safe here?"

Mike blinked. "Yes. Why are you asking?" 

"You look scared," she said with finality. "You shouldn't be scared. Sidney likes us and won't try to make us go to different places." She said, attempting to make the unicorn pat Mike on the knee. 

It was more like the entirety of the unicorn's upper body was bumping against his knee, but it still made Mike smile enough to take his mind off her words. 

Of course, Marisol would remember that Aunt Cynthia wanted to send them to different families. Rodger, and she only really liked him. The state had convinced them that they needed to take both. There was no one left. 

Just like now. "I don't know, Marisol," Mike said truthfully. 

"It's okay." Marisol said, "'Made it to Pitt'gh. Just like 'u said, we would. 'Things work out.'" She finished quoting their mom, sounding just like her. "Ice skate soon?" She looked at the ice and watched the players skate around. 

Mike laughed, his worry vanishing for a moment. Clearly, Marisol was done with the conversation. Their mom would say that for years. She always believed things would work out as they needed, no matter what. They would have to work on things to make it happen. 

"I'll have to ask Sid," Mike said, returning to the practice where the Pens were starting to work on special teams. Mike had missed practice. Getting some ice time can't be too hard. Obviously, Sid liked skating, so Mike's asking to go skating would be pretty close to Sid's routine. So Mike and Marisol wouldn't be a problem, not here. Mike can ask for this without feeling like he is ruining everything. 

"Can we skate with them?" she asked, pointing to the group of kids playing with mini sticks by the practice rink bench. Mike thought it was Geno's kid – Nikita, maybe? - and Jeff Carter's kids. 

Mike wished he could say yes. He hoped so hard that it would be okay. But he didn't know and wasn't about to make friends before he knew they wouldn't be taken away again. 

-

Telegram:

(1213) Anna: the maintenance person is here. 

(1213) Anna: I know you're on the ice, but she's making all sorts of negative-sounding English. 

(1230) Anna: That tiny earthquake from a few months ago did more damage than we thought. 

(1245) Anna: oh no. She called backup – something about wanting to double-check something. That really isn't good, is it? 

(1304) Zhenya: no, it's not. Damnit. Complicated and expensive.

(1304) Anna: my thoughts exactly. 

(1304) Anna: also tell Nikita not to call me for half an hour, okay? I have to talk to the maintenance people so I won't answer. 

(1306) Zhenya: I will tell him. or distract him. Either works. 

-

Although Mike knew it was going to be at least a few more days, maybe weeks, before the DNA test results were going to be back, even expedited as they were, he was still hopeful when he saw Anthony talking to Sid in the locker room after the practice was done. They would get lunch in the player's lounge before Sid had video and other team requirements. The Pens were still in training camp. 

At Anthony's slight shake of his head to Sid's question, Mike knew the results weren't back from the hospital yet. Mike would love for the uncertainty to go away. 

He just wanted to know.  

He took Marisol's hand and led them to Sid's locker. Sid had already showered and changed out of the practice gear. Mike was glad; he didn't like the look or smell of that jock. He thought that he, himself, might have some weird superstitions. But if Sid was actually his father, it apparently was in his blood. 

Mike missed his own gear, however. Nothing was the top of the line; he knew better than to ask for that, but it was good gear, and Mike had to leave it all behind to fit everything for Marisol and him. All he had were skates. 

Marisol pulled out of Mike's grasp as soon as they got close enough. "Mr. Sid!" she said, pulling herself up on the bench. 

Sid blinked in surprise. Marisol hadn't called him by any name before, and Mike hoped it wasn't uncomfortable for him. 

"Hi, Marisol. Did you behave for your brother?" Sid asked, smiling and reaching down to pick her up.

Marisol nodded happily from his arms. Mike didn't feel the overwhelming concern he usually felt when people tried to carry her. "We played in the stands, and I want to go skating. Like you!" she said brightly, waving her stuffed unicorn around. 

"Marisol!" Mike said with a wince. He was hoping to ease into the question instead of going in bluntly. 

Sid didn't even seem to mind. He just threw his head back and laughed. "I think you'll need skates for that," he said, smiling at them both. "Can't skate without them." 

Marisol scowled down at the floor for a moment before looking up. "Mike has skates!" she declared. 

Mike felt Sid's gaze. "Does he?" he asked Marisol in a gentle tone. "Ice? Or road?" 

Marisol nodded, big and over-exaggerated. "Hockey!"

Mike answered Sid's questioning glance. "Yeah. In my bag. They were the only things. That I… Brought."  

Mike couldn't read Sid's face well yet, but his tone was gentle when he said, "When we get home, I can show you both where the synthetic ice is." Then, he trailed off a little uncertainly, "I mean, if that's what you want."

Marisol responded for Mike again, "He does! He always likes to skate." 

One of the teammates Mike didn't know the name of yet leaned over from the next stall. Mike really did have to learn all of their names. He grew up a Kings fan; the only ones he knew of before were Sid, Geno, Jeff Carter, and Kris Letang. 

"You any good?" The guy – Mike thinks his name is Teddy, but he isn't sure if that's a nickname or an actual one – asked. 

Mike couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. "Top line D for my travel team." Then he faltered, smiling dropping from his face. "Or well… I was. It's been several months since I've skated. Honestly, I don't even know if my skates fit anymore. I had a growth spurt a few months ago." 

"I mean. If Sid's your old man, you've got something to work with." Teddy smiled and skipped right over the implications. "Get him in some skates, Cap." 

Sid nodded thoughtfully. "What was your pads size?" he asked before calling one of the other equipment guys to help Mike get proper-sized gear. 

Mike tried his best to control his excitement. It wasn't working; he was too excited about the prospect of actually playing with gear. It had been over six months. It would take time for them to get gear his size. His skates were still at home… back at Sid's house. Maybe if they had to leave, he could keep the gear. 

That swift reminder made the happiness in Mike's veins freeze. Mike had to keep remembering that it was not home yet. Sid might not keep them if they hurt his game too much. But, oh, Sid would make sure that they are cared for. Mike didn't doubt that; in the last week, Mike had seen how caring Sid could be. 

But they might not stay there. Stay in Sid's life. 

Sid's hopeful, happy expression clouded over to a confused one as he stared at Mike, and Mike did his best to plaster a smile again.

Sid wouldn't just throw them out.  

[fruitmins]

For You | yoongi

➭ summary: in which Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls for you..

➭genre: oneshot, strangers to lovers, stripper reader, slowburn-ish, fluff

➭warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence & blood, tsundere-ish tbh, didnt check the spelling, yoongi is stalker-ish but that’s ok, daddy issues

➭note: don’t ask me why this takes place in winter💀 senior year of high school + writers block + I’m lazy. i like half of this and i hate half of this. omg yoongi going to the military I’m gonna cry & throw a fit

Yoongi put his cold hands in his pockets, small snowflakes falling from the sky as he stepped out of the dirty and vulgar parking lot. He ignored all of the horny thugs who were making out with hookers outside as he headed to the dimly lit building.

SEASAW

The word was lit on top of the building and for some unknown reason, Yoongi had been drawn to it for weeks. He knew there were better clubs than this one, and he’d most likely be seen and on some headline by the time he stepped in the door but tonight, he didn’t care.

His mind went back to the fight he had with his dad on the phone as he stepped through the door, some terribly made whiskey in mind.

A breeze washed over him as the door closed with a loud thud, it was at least a little warmer than the cold air outside. Yoongi glanced around taking in the symphony of multicolored lights illuminated the air, casting a vibrant palette across the dance floor. The room throbbed with an infectious energy, resonating with the beat of the music that reverberated through every corner.

Soon, his eyes found the bar, a couple of nicely dressed men sat at the stools. Without another thought, Yoongi strutted to a seat, leaving an empty space to separate himself and another man.

“Whiskey.” He said in a deep raspy voice despite how the woman working was already in the middle of making another drink.

“Yoongi!” A older sounding man suddenly called out of him, making his head turn to the man on the stool next to him. He recognized the man as one of his dad’s friend.

Perfect. He scoffed to himself, hoping his drink would came faster.

“Now what are you doing in a bar like this?” The man asked with a scratchy laugh, hitting his shoulder.

Yoongi tried to let out a small chuckle that ends up sounding dry. “Same as you.” He spoke, turning back to the bar when he hears the bartender loudly slam his drink on the counter.

He goes to take a large swig as the old man continues to chat and laugh with him, his reeking odor hitting his face as he turns to look back at him.

Behind the old man, Yoongi notices the dance floor. Bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, twisting and gyrating, surrendering themselves to the intoxicating melodies. But one soul figure seemed to catch everyone’s attention on stage.

Slowly, he started to tune out the annoying old man the more closely he watched. But unlike the other men in the bar, he watched with curiosity rather than lust. Your movements were elegant and graceful, your tight crop top and glittery skirt making every sway of your body seen.

Your hands played in your hair and caressed your body as your body moved, painting a mysterious story about you with help of the music. Your eyes closed and a bright warm smile on your face as if no one else was there.

Despite dancing in a shabby club probably to make ends meet, you were dancing as if this was your long time dream.

“Her?” The old man’s itchy voice suddenly came back to him, pointing to you on the stage. “That’s Y/N. She’s kinda a favorite here.” He said and this made Yoongi even more intrigued.

“Has she worked here long?” Yoongi asked glancing back at the old man as he nodded. “Almost a full year.” He said and everyone clapped and whistled as you suddenly came down from the stage with a warm smile.

Yoongi just hummed before quickly finishing his drink before paying the bartender and leaving, deciding to dismiss the thought of talking to you.

But at weird hours of the day Yoongi would think about you, so every time he happened to pass the club he went in and watched you perform.

This happened for weeks. He never said a word to you, he never went further than the bar. Until one day when you had stepped off the stage, looking cheerful as usual, only to be met with two men meeting you half way.

Yoongi watched, his blood starting to boil as the man surrounded you, complimenting you and touching your hair. It didn’t take them long before they got more physical, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away as they started to trail closer to you so that their body touched yours.

Yoongi can see the panic and fear settle in your face before his vision was blocked by the taller men.

Without thinking, Yoongi practically sprung up from the stool, furious as he made his way over to where the men had circled you.

“Move.” He said, his voice deep and hoarse as the two men slowly turned around to face Yoongi.

“Mind your business, hot shot.” One man spoke, obviously trying to spook Yoongi which only wanted to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to waste my breath telling you again.” Yoongi said simply, remaining calm as he watched the two turn irritated.

“You wanna get jumped punk?” The man said, raising his voice as he stepped closer to Yoongi.

Instantly and without warning, Yoongi’s right arm swung in the air. His already clenched knuckles that were in his coat pocket suddenly flew out and connected to the guys face, all of his pent up angry unleashing.

Before anyone can react, he punched him a second time, this one making him stumble to the ground with a yell of pain.

The other man quickly backed away with his hands in the air, “I don’t even know that guy.” The man claimed before quickly rushing off.

Yoongi looked up from the ground where the other man was laid, his nose now bleeding heavily as Yoongi stepped over the body, ignoring his groans when he did so.

“You alright?” Yoongi spoke, his expression softening as he meets your eyes. His eyes glazed around your face as he inspected you, trying not to get lost in your gorgeous and unique features as he looked for any sign that they had touched you.

“I’m fine.” You muttered back, out of breath from shock as you looked at the man on the group and then up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you.” You say with a polite bow, taking a moment to collect yourself before a small smile appears on your face.

“What?” Yoongi asked, curious on why you were suddenly smiling and chuckling despite everything.

“Well, I was wondering when you were going to come talk to me.” You say with a teasing smile only making Yoongi more confused. As if reading his expression you chuckle. “You think I haven’t noticed you always coming in here and watching me?”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging lightly as he looked away. “I don’t care if you noticed or not.” He spoke in a defensive tone, harsher than intended. He saw the smile on your face drop slightly in disappointment and he bit the inside of his cheek harder out of frustration. He didn’t want to be responsible for a frown on your face when you always wore a smile.

Wordlessly, Yoongi took out his wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and holding his hand out for her to take.

Your eyes widen in shock, chuckling nervously as you shake your head, denying it. “Why..?” You start to question, getting a little suspicious.

“For the inconvenience, and all the dances I’ve watched without tipping.” Yoongi states with a serious expression, trying to cover up any other intentions he might of had.

“You just have that much on you at all times? That’s risky.” You respond, still hesitant to take the money. Yoongi lets a smile crack at the irony, “I’ve been watching you for weeks and that’s what your worried about?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want a favor in return or something?” You ask him, still skeptical as Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know if you don’t take the money.”

With a sigh, he watches as you slowly take the money out of his hands and put it in your pocket. “Thank you.” You mumble as he turns around and heads for the door. “Wait!” You call for him in confusion, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him as he turns around slightly.

“What’s the favor?” You ask in confusion but Yoongi just looks at you before continuing to walk out without a word.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to wonder back into the club days after that. Despite the weird exchange it only made him want to get to know you more. But something in him grew colder when he walked in the club only to see you not onstage. Usually around this time you had already started and had a small crowd of men watching you.

“Whiskey.” He ordered in a lower tone as he sat down, tapping impatiently on the counter as he waited. “This was stupid.” He mumbled to himself, ashamed of how he had gotten caught up with this stripper and was just about ready to leave it all behind.

“Min Yoongi! You’re back!” He heard your familiar voice right next to him, causing his head to turn to the side in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked his finger slowly stopping as he looked at you, sat next him in the bar.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know your name?” You reply instead, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I assumed you already knew.” Yoongi spoke calmly, lightly shrugging even.

“Cocky much?” You reply, jokingly rolling your eyes with a smile. “How did you find out, if not the internet?” Yoongi asked curiously, as the bartender slams his whiskey on the counter.

“Well when the son and CEO of a million dollar company starts to take notice to the best employee in the club, word gets around.” You reply with a slight grin and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Cocky much?” He echos your words as he sips on his whiskey and this only widens your grin further. Yoongi stares into your smile, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders when he realizes it’s been a while since he actually genuinely smiled for once.

When he finishes his drink he takes out his wallet and pays for the bad alcohol before taking out another three hundred and handing it to you, not waiting for you to take it this time.

“This has to be your way of flirting with me.” You mumble in disbelief as you stare at the bills before reluctantly shoving it in your skirt.

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t have time to flirt.” He mumbled firmly while looking at his empty glass.

“You have time to come here.” You differed causing him to bite the inside of his cheek, standing up and dusting himself off. “Wait that didn’t mean leave!” You state quickly getting up with him and Yoongi can’t help but glance at the sudden look of displeasure and sadness on your face as your hand brushes against his as you attempt to stop him.

“I..actually like having you here. You make me feel safe.” You mumble sheepishly as Yoongi stood there, completely frozen as he took in your words. How had he, of all people, made you feel safe? In a run down place like this?

“Then your standers are low.” He said in a low voice, a hint of playfulness in his tone as you look back up at him, snickering at his comment.

“You say that, but under that frown and sharp eyes is a warm hearted gentleman.” You speak causing him to look away from you, not wanting to take your words seriously. He didn’t want to show any signs of vulnerability, he’d never be ready for anything heavy.

“You don’t believe me?” You challenged him, seeing his silence and he heard the heard an underlying tone in your voice when you asked. “If I asked you to walk me to my car, you’d hundred percent do it.”

Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but quickly knew not to didn’t deny it. “See! You would.” You grinned at his sour expression, knowing you were right.

“Whatever, do you want to be walked to your car or not?” He asked trying to dismiss the fact all together. He had never seen himself in a situation like this, feeling embarrassed and maybe bubbly.

You laughed at the question but nodded, grabbing your nearby coat that was filled with stains as you attempted to squeeze your shoulders in the coat.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking in front of you as he leaded the two of you out of the door and to your car. Yoongi sighed as he looked at the state of it, effortlessly taking out his wallet and starting to count some bills.

“If you’re going to give me more money don’t bother.” You quickly said as the two of you made it to your car, stepping in front to him and holding onto his hand so he would stop rummaging through his wallet.

“I don’t need it, I’m fine!” You tried to convince him and he simply raised an eyebrow at you, before going back to counting, taking out a couple hundreds as he did so.

“Then consider it flirting.” He mumbled in a flat tone, taking out five hundreds and getting ready to hand it to you.

As he looked back up from his wallet he felt something soft touch the corner of his lips, eyes widening in shock when he realizes how close you were to him and before he could stop it, you had planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

Your lips lingered on his skin for a couple seconds before finally pulling away from him, taking a step back.

“Come back tomorrow, okay?” You say with a warm smile, practically glowing in front of him as you spoke to him in a soft low tone.

Silently, Yoongi watched you chuckle at his reaction before getting into your car and slowly driving off, his heart thumping as he watched your car drive off onto the road.

He slowly started to move again when your car was far away enough that it was out of view, as if snapping him out of a trance.

Yoongi could feel himself getting lighter, warmer. He could feel his muscles relax as he took his hands out of his coat pocket.

[lunaviee]

04. JEALOUSY…?

(with some writing below)

rin states at your instagram post. annoyed.

it’s a weird feeling, he thinks. he doesn’t even know you, so why is he so annoyed at isagi for getting so close? all he knows is that your favorite pen to use is a pale blue one that’s running out of ink soon. and how you get annoyed when that one strand of hair gets in your face. and that you take off your bracelets when you write because they’re uncomfortable. and that he catches you glancing at him sometimes.

oh. okay, maybe he does know a bit about you..but that’s no reason to be so jealous, right? whatever, he doesn’t need this right now. he should focus on school no matter how many times you catch his eye.

————————————————————————

you walk into class and see a worker standing around the area where you would normally sit. you look at your teacher and he holds up a finger, indicating you to wait a moment. so you do.

soon, the worker (which you find out is a remodeler) calls your teacher over and you and your classmates are left conversing with each other.

“what do you think they’re doing?” a voice asks you, trying to start conversation.

you turn around, still keeping your eyes on the two men near your seat “i’m not sure…my guess is-” you freeze. you finally look at who you’re talking to and it’s rin. you’ve only heard him speak once and you were a bit too flustered to remember what he sounded like. he was quiet in class and didn’t even know he existed up until a few weeks ago.

his voice is smooth and low, which makes you just a tad bit nervous…

“uh huh? you were saying?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you. “oh right. uh my guess is they’re fixing the charging plug next to my desk. it doesn’t work” you finally look into his eyes to answer. his eyes are pretty..icy irises surrounded by long eyelashes.

“hm.” he hums back in response. before either of you could say anything else (if you even wanted to), your teacher makes an announcement.

“alright, all students seated in columns 8-12 are moving desks. everyone else, go to your seat please.”

you turn back to rin and your eyes meet again. you were sat in column 12 and rin was in 10.

“uh do you wanna-” you start.

“yeah sure” rin walks past you and towards 2 empty desks.

even though there were only 36 people in your class, the size of your classroom was able to fit just under 50 students, so finding an empty seat was easy. (you really aren’t sure why your teacher had assigned seats in the first place…)

when you sit down, you take out your notebook and pencil case. well, it seems like you didn’t properly close your pencil case all the way when you last used it, and one of your pens had dropped. you lean over to get it, your head being dangerously close to the desk…

rin sees this and his hand slides over to the edge of the desk while you’re grabbing your pen, making sure you don’t accidentally hit your head.

once you sit back up, rin’s hand is back to its original spot before you can notice it had ever even left. your teacher walks back up to the front of the classroom and assigns a worksheet for the rest of the class period.

“work with a partner if you need to, i’ll be dealing with the remodeling situation.”

the word “partner” makes you glance at rin out of the corner of your eye. unfortunately, his eyes are set on his own paper.

though, his eyes do flicker to your desk as he watches you shake your favorite pen in hopes of using it again before it’s completely out of ink.

PREV | NEXT | MAIN EVENT

oh my god i’m SO sorry i didn’t upload for so long and this chapter SUCKS😭i’ve been so busy recently and writers block definitely doesn’t help

TAGLIST — @jaeheekangslover @disoriented-fish @itzsora @tamimemo @punkhazardlaw @bxddiebloss @userwithlotsoftime @anurst @vvasant @l0v3do11 @reiners-milkbiddies @ilytrinsworld @hyeenct @yunxbin @raidenshogunmommy @livelaughloveisagiyoichi

[thatboymikey]

Papa iii x male reader

Hey, everyone, I haven't posted in a while because I've been busy with school, and I've had major writers' block. so here is a little bit of angst to fluff stuff with Terzo. I really hope you enjoy there's some Italian in here and so there's translations at the bottom if you care.

words-1104

rating-pg 13

warnings- none really, I guess talk of attempted murder.

People who identify as women dni unless you want to be blocked this is an mlm blog for mlm and bi men

The flashing and the loud tune of monstrance clock rang through your ears as you watched your love Terzo perform a small smile found itself on your face, a sense of pride for the man you love. That sense would soon disappear and turn to confusion as two security guards slowly walked past you and approached him on stage promptly ending his song as you screamed for them to stop. The ghouls slowly watched as their papa got dragged off stage unaware of what was to come next. “Basta! Per favore lascia lui!” you continue as you run across the stage to stop them uncaring if you embarrass yourself all you cared about was saving Terzo. As you step to the other side of the stage to see the horrifying sight before your eyes, Terzo's head being placed between the small entrance of a guillotine, Nihil standing on the side looking slightly remorseful for what is going to happen. “Terzo mi amore” you cry yelling as you grasp his face in between your hands whipping away any stray tears along with parts of his make up. “Nihil che cazzo è questo?" you yell turning away from Terzo to stare into Nihil’s eyes “it has to be done, my youngest son is simply outgrowing the role of papa and we have a new prodigy.” he explains to you “he doesn’t have to die though” you plead with him hot tears spilling from your eyes in the process. “It is what sister wants, and what she wants ,” he says, looking down at his feet to avoid making eye contact with you or his son. “Well stop this and let me talk to her please” you beg still holding Terzo in your arms. “I’m sorry but she ordered it and I don’t think you’ll be able to reason with her.” he states now looking into your tear ridden eyes. “Let me try please for me, and for your son”. Your last attempt to reason with him seems to work as he orders the men to release Terzo from the guillotine pulling him to his feet and shoving him in your direction which leads you to promptly catch him in your arms bringing him in a tight embrace. “Grazie papa Nihil” you cry as you kiss Terzo’s face out of joy for your love has been spared. 

(At the ministry)

The second you arrived home you approached sister imperators office to reason with her about killing Terzo and the other papa’s. You reach the large wood door with her name inscribed with gold on it. You grasped the equally large door knocker letting it fall 3 times before hearing a soft yet annoyed “come in”. You enter the room embellished with gold and red details walking to her desk before sitting down. “Ah y/n what brings you here” she says with a smile. “I saw what happened to Terzo last night” you said with a bitterness in your voice “oh yes Nihil mentioned you wanted to talk to me about that” she replied her smile slowly fading as you were ready to unleash hell upon her “Why would you even think about murdering your son in such a cruel way?” you question as the memory of last night continues to play throughout your mind. “Nihil must have told you it had to be done due to our new cardinal” she replies and she stares at your eyes noticing that you’re about to begin crying again. “He does not have to be killed for a new member. I can't believe you even thought about killing him and almost went through with it.” you are practically yelling at her now. “Almost.” she replied shortly confused as to what you meant “yeah he is lucky I followed and Nihil let me save him”. You cry once again, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your cassock. “Quello fottutamente idiota” she whispered under her breath while pinching her nose bridge. “He was supposed to die last night, why did you interfere?” she questions a look of anger forming on her face. “You would think for one second I wouldn’t try to save my husband from death, I would do anything for him even if it meant my own life” you yell standing up to seem intimidating. “y/n everything works a certain way, and death is a thing that happens everyday whether it be murder or natural causes you have to realize that.” she explains calmly. “I understand the concept of death but the fact that you would be so shallow to sacrifice your youngest son for the fate of the band is frankly selfish.” you argue not being able to hold in your frustration anymore. “You’re lucky that you’re my son in law because although I am upset about the circumstances I will keep Terzo alive. But if you so much as ruin another one of the plans for the band I will not hesitate to put Terzo back into that guillotine and make things final” she compromised with a sigh. “Grazie mille sister you don’t understand how much this means to me” you say with tears streaming down your face this time they're happy tears though because you know this means Terzo has more time to live and be happy with you even if he isn’t a part of the band anymore. She dismisses you with a wave as she continues to work on her endless amount of paperwork. You dash out of the office straight into Terzo and your shared room seeing him without makeup and in a cozy purple robe. “I did it!” you yell as you run into his arms prompting him to catch you with a small falter in his step. “Cosa? amore rallenti” he says a look of confusion forming upon his face as you slowly pull out of his tight grasp to look at him. “Imperator, I reasoned with her you and your brothers are going to be okay.” you say with a smile. He processed your words for a second before smiling and bringing you in tighter, pressing small kisses into your hair and whispering thank yous. “Ti amo cosi tanto” you say, pressing a kiss on his lips.  “Ti amo anch’io” he responds before pressing another soft kiss upon your lips. - the end

Translations-

Basta! Per favore lascia(stop leave him)

Nihil che cazzo è questo?(Nihil what the fuck is this?)

Quello fottutamente idiota(that fucking idiot)

Cosa? amore rallenti(what? Love slow down)

Ti amo così tanto(I love you so much)

Ti amo anch’io(I love you too)

[ne0nlightzz]

Friendlt reminder for readers waiting for a fanfic / og story on line writer to post a new chapter after a long time and might be frustrated or annoyed with the writer for not posting a new chapter.

Writers and humans to! And they go through writer blocks, mental health breaks, soical media breaks, family/irl life issues, or get busy and so much more. Sometimes these set backs prolong the writing by alot, especially if there's multiple factors playin into it. Like I haven't updated my story in almost a year, and that's due to the fact that after I posted the last one, health issues with my grandpa came up, and then more, and then more, and during that I was off my meds and my mental health and motive was at an all time low, and then more crap happened, and I still just wasn't motivated to write, then more crap, then I went and lived with my sister for like a month and mental health started to improve, then we found a puppy in critical condition and that responsiblty was pinned on me alone and that was and is a situation still, and my mental health is steadily declining again due to the sudden responsibility and stress and constant arguing with my mother now that I'm back home, and I'm also trying to balance this new puppy that can't be around our other digs still, with any chores or house work I have to do and any attempts at school, and the crisis of that my phantom of what my mother deems is a great childhood is nearing its end and I'm not ready for that because I didn't get to experience anything. I haven't had time nor motivation to actually write anything, I just open up the thing to start writing and my mind draws a blank now. It sucks. So yes this was a bit of a vent, but it's real life, and real life often pushes online life and hobbies to the side, not forgotten about, just put on a halt until further notice...so be patient, maybe that story you love on ao3 or quotev will get a new chapter a year or more later, and always check the writers page/convo board/other soical for updates because maybe they post updates or explanations. Either way, be patient, and acknowledge the writers have lives outside their stories, and are usually trying their best.

Please remember to stay hydrated n to take care of urselves!

-Luv Lee<3

[enhadiares]

Idk if you needed to hear this but please remember that it is completely okay for you to be taking breaks from writing. Like, coming from someone who also writes fics n stuff 😭 (I don't post them tho NAHH 💀) so I know that writer's block is annoying af and that you might be busy yk so you might not always have the time to write WHICH IS OKAY 😍

I'm definitely looking forward to your future works tho :)) but until then, I hope you're having a good hiatus and that you don't feel too pressured to start writing again idk WJDHJDBS WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING HELP 😭😭 I HOPE YKWIM 😞🫶🏼

OMGG HEYY!?!

Andd THANKS ALOOTTT MAN

I did need to hear this because honestly I have such a major writer's block and my school works don't help either , and I was feeling so guilt about not being able to write for people who enjoy my fics 💔💔

I am really trying to get back at it tho but seeing that my exams are coming I don't see it at the moment 😭😭 I will try my best to come back at it as soon as I can tho 💪🏻

And GURLL YOU WRITE TOO?!? I NEED TO SEE THOSE 👀👀

Don't be shy share them with me 🤭🤭

And damn this honestly made my day and made me feel alloot better🫂

THANK YOU AND LOVE YOU 💋💋 sending lots of love to you ❤️❤️❤️

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! It's gossip girl❤️❤️ I missed our little messages too! Luckily school isn't too bad right now so I hoping to be able to keep up on here a bit better now! I hope you're doing well!! I got to read so of the stories you've done recently and they've all been brilliant! I especially liked the one you posted yesterday! Make your home in my heart! ❤️ it was so cute! I love how soft Tommy was with her and how he took time to care for her! ❤️❤️ and I also liked the Runway! I haven't seen Anna but I heard it's good! And I loved how you made the story begin!

I've been doing alright! My break was nice and exams went pretty well! My classes this semester are a bit harder though so that's a bit of a challenge though 😂🥲😂

And I think my anxiety is doing a bit better now! I think I may actually try to post something within. Like two weeks maybe! 

I know I mentioned I had writers block but you know what😂 I got to go home for this weekend and had to fly. So I was like determined to try and finish at least one of my stories. And not only did I finish both but I've got 20k+ words broken up over about 6 different stories done now😂 One I still need to finish though! I kinda surprised myself too because I was typing stuff on the plane and usually I'm nervous annoy people seeing that stuff. But I lucked out both times and no one was in the seat next to me, which I think helped! 😂And I actually have more ideas I wanna get done by next week too😂 It was actually your little idea about Drabble that helped me get out of it too! So thank you for that! ❤️ Once I remembered that I didn't have to write a super long story it was a bit easier for me to cut down in what wasn't important! I have some bullet point ideas or mini Drabble that I've also almost got done too! There is one idea that I may send an other ask about though! It's something I be been wanting to write because I think I have a really good idea for a line prompt. But there's I'm a little stuck because of some of the TW's that would be included in the story and I'm not sure how'd people react? Idk if that makes sense but I can explain more in the other ask if that's ok! 

And yes! Alfie is absolutely a rich character! He's one of my favorites😂 I'm so glad he made it though the series😂 

Morpheus is pretty good! It's based of a comic by Neil Gaiman about the the Lord of Dreams (Morpheus)! And it starts off after he's been imprisoned for like 100 years and finally gets free and has to build up his kingdom again! I know it's not the busy summary but it's definitely worth the watch! And the actor who plays Morpheus (Tom Sturrige? I think it's spelled) is also very nice to look at so😂😂 but it's a pretty good show!

And I've heard of Both those movies with Cillian but haven't seen them. I've especially heard people like Breakfast on Pluto! I haven't heard of Virgin River though! What's it about? 

And I will say that we have interacted before but again I've kinda been hiding around for the last little bit 😂 And I honestly started the same way as you to, only on anon then I decided to share on thing and people seems to like it so I tried sharing more😂 Then I went into hiding again but you know, I think I might come out of my cave soon😅 And thank you for all your encouragement too! You really have helped me be less nervous about it all!❤️ 

And I haven't actually seen Sex and the City, but I've heard of that one too! But I get what you mean by being apprehensive to second parts! Sometimes the producers should have just stuck to one😂 but I do know that gossip girl is on HBO if you couldn't find it! 

Ohhh and local cafe's are fun! I wish there were some more near me I could go to😂 My college is great but it's not really in a big city where there's lots of cafes😂 We do have a few boba shops that could probably work pretty well though! Does coffee flavored boba count? 😂 And ohh I did see that you were writing for them! I still haven't seen a Quiet Place two yet, but I've seen part of Anna (didn't get to finish it) and I do really enjoy the Nolan Batman's (Cillian is very good at playing the characters who are a little psycho😂) But I can't think of anything specific to see with this right now! If I think of something I'll definitely let you know though!! ❤️

Aside from all the fics I've been trying to catch up on, I have a few mystery novels I want to finish! Most of what I've read though this year had been my textbooks though 😂

And I hope your days have been going alright and will only get better from her on!🥰🥰You're amazing!! Thank you for all your advice! And I'll be sure to send that ask about you opinion on an idea I had after this! ❤️❤️❤️ 

XoXo Gossip Girl!

Hello gossip girl!!!

How have you been?

I’m glad to hear school is doing alright:) thank you so much! I’ve been writing more and faster (I think hehe) aww thank you! It makes me so happy to know you liked that story! I’m a firmly believer that Tommy would be a sweet man, he just couldn’t leave her there in the pouring rain at night… and she managed to win his heart too. (I might have a second part planned for later) but first I need to finish the ancient request I got a while ago, I think there are 2 more stories in my drafts (gotta hurry up). I’m writing the second part to The Runway!!! And I’m so excited about it 🥰 looove Lenny!

Congratulations on the good grades! Keep the hard work going ☺️ oh but I’m sure you will do it just fine! Trust yourself (best of luck with your classes!)

Remember to take deep breaths, try to think of the things that gives you peace usually (and of course post the stories you’ve been working!), it will be just fine 😉

Oh I think airports are a great source of inspiration, wow! That’s an impressive work, you have been writing a lot! It makes me so happy to hear that! Yeah I don’t like neighbors looking at what you’re doing haha I get so nervous, but you were neighbor’s free so it must’ve helped a lot. Did you keep writing? *eyes*… oh that post helped me too! Like a lot! Sometimes I pressure myself to write something long, over X words but when I read that I was like… wait a minute, some stories can work great as short, a Drabble… 🥰💕 aww you’re welcome! It makes my entire world to know you’ve found some inspiration in my silly posts… my job is done here. We don’t even realize the pressure we put on ourselves sometimes right? Some stories are mean to be short, a mini series, a long series or a one shot, and it’s perfectly fine, what really matters is that we write what we want and enjoy it.

In your other post you mention SA, but I don’t know what it means? And also TW’s? 🙈 also do you want me to post the other message with the ideas for your story? Let me know!… okay the general idea sounds great to me! I just have a few questions to fully understand the plot, which I will share on your next message if you tell me you are okay with me posting it. But to answer your dilemma, I’d say go for it because internally you’ve been thinking about it since the beginning! Don’t doubt yourself on it, whatever path you choose is going to be the right one because it’s part of your original idea 😉😊

Alfie was a great addition to the show! He is so interesting and unique, he has a lot of things to bring to the table…

Oh wow Morpheus sounds interesting 🤔 I will try to see if it’s around the platform I have subscription from, or at least a small video to get an idea of the show, although to tell you the truth? I find it hard to get hooked with another series than peaky, what have they done to me? I want/need 10 more series ahaha (said the frustrated one) 😂 but it would be good to have something else to look at.

Breakfast on Pluto was amazing, I loved his character there (I think they did it way too early tho, he could’ve won an Oscar for it years later, but we know he’s not after that… Virgin River is a small (and perfect) little town full of mountains and rivers and nice people, so Mel is a practitioner nurse,widow and she arrives to start her job at the small clinic, she meets Jack a former soldier and they fall in love, but things aren’t easy so there are a million ups and downs, a pregnant ex, the noisy neighbors, flashbacks from the war… it’s so good!

Wow don’t hide! I love interacting with you on anon messages so I guess it’s the same with your own blog 😉 but whatever makes you feel comfortable! I hope you decide to share more and more,the first one is the hardest, so… we’ll be waiting with open arms when you decide to leave the cave 💖 ah anytime sweetheart! Happy to help :)

Yeah I didn’t watch it either but a friend told me what happened and I was like O.o nope I’m not watching that hehe I mean, they left Samantha out *horror face* they had the audacity *gasp* hahah yeahI think whatever you fancy to drink works ;) what does flavored boba tastes? Ahh you *need* to watch AQP2, I was reluctant at first, but Emmett won my heart over… Anna meh, the general idea was amazing, but I think the movie had something missing? Is it just me? I mean why would they make Anna have a girlfriend and be with Lenny and the other agent…? What’s the point? Yeah living la vida loca, I get it, but (?) did he took her to Hawaii? Did the gf found out Anna cheated? I have a lot of questions haha that’s why I write for him lol and I love the psycho characters too! *high five* Jonathan Crane was great, but one of the best roles for me will always be Anthropoid and the edge of love, (love the war theme).

Oh please share the reading list! I love finding new pieces to read, I have a John Banville novel I bought back in November and I haven’t read it yet… I am too behind some stories (I need to catch up on reading asap..), but it will be around so I try to not pressure myself a lot, sometimes it’s just hard to keep up with everything. Ahah I bet you have! Luckily you will find some time to read novels and fiction during your free time ☺️

Days have been alright thanks, I’m doing my nails old way (Idont want to do gel anymore there are loads of videos saying how much damage it can make on the skin and although I really didn’t use the UV lamp like once a week, I want to protect my skin as much as I can…I’ve been writing a lot, more than usual so I’m trying to maximize the inspiration spree, days have been warmer and I want to see if I can find a friend to go to a concert in June, so wish me luck!

Thank you for your beautiful words 🥺 I am here to chat whenever you need, and to me you’re amazing as well! So brave and I wish you nothing but the best in every aspect of your life, see you around xx

[fanboymickey]

Harrington’s got her | What’s in a name?

Summary: Reader and Eddie had been high school sweethearts and planned on being together forever. Instead, life had other plans and flipped reader’s world upside down. Now reader finds herself becoming a single mother and possibly falling in love with her childhood best friend, Steve Harrington.

Word count: 1.3k

Warning: Angst. Teen pregnancy. Reader is 19 years old. Vecna and Eddie are both dead. Everything was solved at the end of volume two.

Request: Nope. I had an idea for this and just wanted to write it.

Pairings: Past Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader

Writers Note: Hi! Here’s part 5! Sorry this took so long to post, I’ve been super busy as I’ve started back at university. I also had writer’s block which partially postponed the writing process. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy💗

Part 4

You had awoken to the sun shining through your curtains. You felt the warmth of Steve radiating off his body as you laid your head on his chest. You could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of his soft snores. You took a deep breath and captured his scent. You couldn’t help but wonder if this could be something you got used to. You quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind as you felt Steve stir underneath you. 

“Good Morning,” He smiled down at you, “Sleep well?” he chuckled as he felt you untangle your legs from his and pull away.

“Honestly, that is the best I’ve slept in months but that could be because I got to use you like a body pillow,” you hesitated waiting for his reaction, “thank you by the way.” You bit your lip. 

He smiled, “You can use me any way you need, I’m here to be used at your disposal.” he half-joked. He didn’t want to hide his feelings any longer, and he thought he made that very clear last night when he all but confessed his love for you. 

“Can we talk about last night because,” You were cut off by a knock at the door, “Y/N, Sweetie, Your dad and I got an earlier flight home.” Your mom said opening the door and walking into the bedroom, “Oh hi Steve, it’s nice to see you around here.” She gave him a warm smile..

“Hi Mrs. Y/L/N, I was actually just on my way out,” He quickly shoved his jacket and shoes on and looked towards you, “Can we finish this later?” he asked. 

“Yeah, sure, why not.” Once he left your room, you fell back into your pillows and sighed annoyed. Why did your parents have to come home early and why did they have to interrupt your conversation right then? 

 Another month had passed, and you watched the leaves slowly began to change from beautiful greens to vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows as Summer turned to fall. You had been nervous knowing that you only had a little over a month left in your pregnancy and it was becoming abundantly obvious by how you would go on spiels about saving money, taking any extra shifts at work while babysitting on the side, and how much you had begun nesting. You would enlist your friends to help you clean your room and arrange it multiple times until you felt like it would be perfect enough to bring your son home to. You knew that he wouldn’t care or even understand that you were young and it would be trial and error with raising him. He wouldn’t understand that his father wouldn’t be there to help you, but you knew you would be the best mom you could be to him and that you weren’t alone because you knew your friends, who became like your family, would always be there to support you.

You and Steve hadn’t even talked about that night despite hanging out multiple times since then. The further you got into your pregnancy the more time Steve seemed to spend with you, but over the past two and a half weeks Steve had been a little more distant and you didn’t know why. However, things had seemed to go back to normal. Steve had taken you to one of your appointments and now he was driving the two of you back to your house. 

“Andrew?” Steve threw out there. 

“Like McCarthy? Ew no.” You and Steve had spent the better part of the drive discussing names for your son. You had browsed baby name books multiple times and never found one that you were particularly in love with. You wanted a name that meant something to you and would give your son a deeper connection to Eddie than just sharing blood and his last name. 

“Alright,” Steve sighed, “What about Thomas?” He asked as he drove onto your street. 

“Are you just naming famous actors from movies?” You looked over at him raising an eyebrow and questioning him. 

“Maybe,” he looked over with a smirk on his face.

“You watched Top Gun once and suddenly you want my son to be named after Tom Cruise.” 

“Listen, he was also great in Risky Business,” he said trying to defend himself. 

“Yeah, ok Steve,” you said through a laugh, “Do you wanna come inside? I own a copy of Risky Business on VHS.” you teased. “We could pop some popcorn, maybe order a pizza and pretend we’re teenagers again for a bit? You know before all the monster hunting and baby stuff happened.” 

“Yeah, that sounds really nice.” Steve got out of the car and followed you inside. 

“Surprise!” You heard them yell as you walked through your front door with Steve in tow.

“Holy Shit!” you screamed surprised. You heard Steve chuckle behind you, “Oh my god, is this why you’ve been so distant the past two weeks?’ You asked turning to the tall brunette man. 

“Yeah sorry about that.” He gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Well, thank you.” you gave him a soft smile that made him blush.

You sat on the floral couch in your living room, watching various people having various different conversations. You were surrounded by gifts for your son and patiently waited to open them.

“Hey Kiddo,” you turned to your side to see Wayne, “I hope it’s ok that I got here late. I had a shift at the factory and needed to get in a quick shower.” You leaped up and brought him into a tight hug.

“Oh Wayne, it’s so great to see you.” He chuckled and hugged you back.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he pulled away, “I can’t stay long, but I wanted to give you my gift before I had to leave.”

“Oh ok,” you tried to keep your smile, but you were upset that he was already leaving so soon. Wayne pulled out a stack of letters and a photograph book, “these belonged to my mom- Eddie’s grandmother,” he hesitated, “you know she was the closest thing to a mother that he had and I think she would’ve wanted you to have them.”

You grabbed the stack of letters and photograph book from him, “She really loved Eddie and would’ve loved to have met your son.” He finished. You both had tears in your eyes, “Thank you, Wayne. This means so much to me and I’m sure it’d mean a lot to Eddie too.” You gave him another hug.

“Anytime kiddo,” he hugged you back and softly ruffled your hair when he pulled away, “I think Eddie would also want me to tell you it’s ok to give that Harrington kid a chance.”

“I- what? How?” You blushed.

“Everyone can see how you guys look at each other,” he smiled, “plus he’s looking at you right now.” He chuckled.

You looked back and caught Steve looking at you as if you had hung the stars. His cheeks started to heat up as he looked back at Dustin and Robin to finish their conversation.

Later that night you found yourself wrapped up on the couch with a cup of warm tea and looking through the photograph book from Wayne. You flipped through the pages that were covered in pictures of Eddie and his family, mostly of him, his grandmother and uncle Wayne, and notes written on the side by his grandmother.

You looked up at Steve, who was sitting on the opposite end watching your VHS tape of Risky Business, “I know what I want to name him.” You said confidently.

“Hm,” Steve looked at you curiously with a raised eyebrow.

“Nathaniel,” a smile graced your face. “It was Eddie’s grandmother’s maiden name. She was the closest thing he had to a mother and she loved him so much.”

“Nathaniel,” Steve echoed, “I like it and I think Eddie would love it.” He smiled at you.

Tagged list:

@khaylin27

@violetbendbackwardoverthegrass

@ketsueki_B4_Midnight

@fangirl-inthe-us

@bxnnywriting

@Livvy-ob-13

@spencestyles

@idreamofdeanie

@thunder-and-lightning

@lexi-2004

@heartyhope

@bizarrelovetraingle

@louderfortheback

@tone-grey

@ssybil

@mysweetlittledesire

@marisurmommy

@steve-harringtons-slut

@slut4rafee

@peachy-showqrs

@and-claudia

@sleepylunarwolf

@erindiggory

@hcloangcls

@redgetawaycar

@claire0531

@emmzasworld

@astro-cub

@thelittleherbalwitchthatcould

@renaroo123

@madnessformunson

@joekeeryswife

@doodlebug16-blog

@wifeofkyojuro

@GabrielleLGonzales

@alexisroseloves

@zanri-art

@qardasngan

If there’s a cross through your name, it means I wasn’t able to tag you.

[yrpreciousmoon]

Ghiaccio HCs let’s fucking gooooo

Alright gang it’s that time again. I’m stuck in the Swamp of Sadness called “writer’s block” where headcanons are the only thing I can manage. And y’all seem to appreciate my Ghiaccioposting so let’s do this CW: Mentions of violence, abuse, drug use and sex, but nothing explicit.

BACKSTORY

First of all, why yes I DO have a hc for his legal name~ But if I told you he would kill me.

He is on the autism spectrum but undiagnosed; his difficulty communicating with/relating to others and his frustration with figurative language often get mislabeled as him being a dick. He’s learned to lean into that label.

When he was very young, he was taken away from his abusive family for his own protection and put into foster care.

He was constantly being moved from home to home because of his difficult nature and violent outbursts. His anger issues were never addressed, only pushed onto the next caretaker.

He grew up always feeling like a burden, like no one wanted him, and so he developed a fierce drive to be the best at everything. As a wise woman once said, “I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best!”

Being shuffled around also instilled in him a lone-wolf sensibility, a distrust for getting close to anyone.

He was an extremely good student, at least in terms of grades. He studied multiple languages and had a special interest in the sciences.

He was also an incredibly dedicated athlete,  participating in track & field, hockey, and soccer (football).

He kept getting ejected from matches for his anger issues, even when dealing with his own team mates. Some schools refused to play against them unless he was removed from the lineup.

He then sought outside sources to get his adrenaline fix and wound up becoming a speed skater. He was exceptionally talented and became obsessed with being number one. He was actually on track to compete for his country in the Olympic games…

However… a particularly violent outburst had him disqualified and had him permanently barred from competitive skating.

This was the inciting event that awakened his Stand abilities.

He withdrew from school, and never went to university.

Has a series of short-lived and distant “relationships.” tends toward hookups and flings.

He is a drug-user, indiscriminately; whatever his teammates put in front of him.

LA SQUADRA ESECUZIONI

He’s one of, if not the youngest member of La Squadra.

He doesn’t need to be “liked” by the team, but wants to be respected and feared.

His opinions on…

Sorbet & Gelato: Finds their PDA annoying so he tends to only engage with them for work. Probably is also jealous of what they have.

Formaggio: He appreciates being able to drink beer and watch sports together and not have to talk.

Illuso: Sees him as a necessary part of the team, but they both tend to keep to themselves, so they’re not especially close.

Prosciutto: Respects him quite a lot, aspires to be more like him in many ways. He’s slightly more open with him than the others, because he knows Prosciutto won’t try to “fix” him.

Pesci: Sees him as a “little brother,” wants to mold him into a fearsome assassin. Surprisingly, he is not as critical with him as Prosciutto is. He is the team mate Ghiaccio is least likely to lose his temper with, and most likely to let down his guard down with.

Melone: Fascinated by him, highly respects him as a team mate. Prefers to work with him because they weirdly understand each other; they absolutely share a folie à deux. Early in their professional partnership he was annoyed by Melone’s incessant and aggressive sexual innuendo, but quickly figured out that this could be resolved by adrenaline-fueled, post-mission hookups. (Spoiler alert: these men are kinky.) Afterwards, it’s all business. Eventually Ghiaccio begins to experience what scientists refer to as “catching feelings,” but he doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to know what to do with this.

Risotto: Has a deep respect for him of course, but also a low-key resentment that he feels towards any person of authority. He tends to push back against orders and treat him more as an “equal” than the others do, but it’s mostly for show. He’d happily follow Ris into any battle. MUSIC RECS Admittedly, I haven’t gotten into this as deeply as I’d like to, but I have couple of suggestions that I am absolutely rabid about.

“This is Love,” Air Traffic Controller Obv I see this through a Meloghia lens, but the romantic angle could be x anyone (or no one.) Oh, I was hit as a kid, I was good, but then I quit. Everyone that tried to fix me Knows that I can't change a bit. I've got no shame, got no pride, Only skeletons to hide. And if you try to talk to someone, Well then someone has to die. Once you chase me down the hole, Yeah, once you think you're in control, You'll believe that we are partners And you'll feel comfortable. Oh, then the darkness rolls in And you'll forget who I have been. But you'll love, love, love it. This is love.

Literally all of “M A N I A,” Fall Out Boy Don’t give me that look, I will fight you on this I stg. A couple of highlights--

“Young and Menace” We've gone way too fast for way too long. And we were never supposed to make it half this far. And I’ve lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice. Kill me twice like my name was Nikki Sixx. I woke up in my shoes again, but somewhere you exist. Woke up on the wrong side of reality. And there's a madness that's just coursing right through me. And as far as the time, Not sure I'm there yet, but I'm certain I've arrived. Oops I did it again. I forgot what I was losing my mind about. I only wrote this down to make you press rewind And send a message: I was young and a menace. I'm just here flying off the deep end. I'm just here to become the best yet. I'm just here for the psych assessment. I’m just here for the fall.

“Champion” I'm calling you from the future To let you know we've made a mistake. And there's a fog from the past that's giving me Such a headache... And I'm back with a madness. I'm a champion (Of the people who don't believe in champions.) I got nothing but dreams inside. I got nothing but dreams. And I'm just young enough to still believe, But young enough not to know what to believe in. If I can live through this, if I can live through this... If I can live through this, I can do anything.

[justice4daisyjohnson]

could you do a Florence Pugh x reader where r is a music producer and sometimes helps flos brother toby out with his music sometimes. Florence is back in oxford visiting her family and reader is also over helping her brother recording some stuff and toby introduce florence to reader. After getting to know each other reader asks flo on a date and she says yes. hope that makes sense

(this request was from my requests were open) school has been so busy for me and writers block sucks ass so i couldn't get this or any other fics out sooner but I'm planning on writing for latina!reader. also blame the mistakes on casper.

in calls, florence has heard about you from toby. she would be lying if she wasn't intrigued by the way toby spoke of you in high value. she wouldn't deny she got a little hopeful to see you when she heard toby would be at the studio recording while she's back home.

you and toby have been close friends since you've met. you met him when you were working on another artist's album and toby stumbled into the room. one of your co-workers began to apologize on behalf of toby, and continued to say he was new. you were intrigued by him, you thought you'd heard about him before but it could be a mistake. you went back to your job and hoped to catch him later.

when your session finished, you checked the sign list at the front of the beginning, found the producer that was working with toby, and their room number. you watched on the sidelines and demanded to be included in his project. you won over toby immediately but you had to bargain with his producer for a bit.

in the end, you made a big help in tobys project and had formed a close bond with him. you two tended to goof and joke around most sessions.

when florence landed home, her sisters and mother ended up picking her up at the airport. when florence asked the whereabouts of toby, she was met with an eye-roll from raffie.

"in that bloody studio, twenty-four-seven, with his best friend" raffie said and her mother smiled at her warmly. the girls' mother knew this annoyance was out of love for their brother. in reality, raffie loved the close bond you have made with her older brother, allowing her to know you more than an acquaintance.

"lay off of y/n, she's nice," arabella says to raffie and the younger sister sticks her tongue out to arabella. truly, you only met the pugh family a handful of times but all of those times you gave them every reason to love you.

when florence gives a confused expression to her mother she finally gets a real answer, "he's coming home later," their mother says and they all pack up in the car.

in the four hours, florence has been home, she hasn't heard a peep from her brother. when asking her mother, she was just met with the same answer.

"later, darling. he told me he would be here soon"

florence was growing annoyed and decided to call her brother. toby didn't pick up the first time but florence had missed her brother too much so she called again. when toby picked up the phone, there was music playing in the back and he was out of breath.

"home already?"

"I've been home for four hours, toby"

"shit"

"are you not going to be home today?"

"no no, i will. I've been getting caught up in the studio. how about you just come over, there are some samples i want to show you, anyways"

florence rolls her eyes and smiles. "okay I'm going over"

"promise, you're going to love her," toby says when he sits next to you in front of the sounding board. you nod at him and turn back to the board, "I'm serious! you know, shes single too- wha- what don't look at me like that"

"i know you are not trying to set me up with your sister, toby"

"what's so wrong with my sister, huh y/n?" toby snaps and playfully places his hands on his hips.

"nothing! you're just my best friend, man. isn't there some rule about dating your best friend's sibling?"

"yes, but, i will allow you to date one of my siblings this once. but i swear to god if you hurt her, y/n"

"this once? relax, i haven't even asked her out yet" you laugh at his protectiveness for his sister.

"so you'll do it?"

"god no! that just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen"

"oh my god, y/n. just wait to see her, and talk to her. shes great. just think about it"

"if i think about it will you leave me to finish this" you move to the soundboard toby had seemed to neglect.

"think about it and ill leave you alone," toby says, moving his hand in front of you two, waiting for you to shake. you sigh and give in, shaking his hand and going back to editing.

it was only a couple of minutes later when toby announced florence arrived and he was going downstairs to pick her up. you waited, forgetting you were alone, too immersed in your work. you were broken out of your trance when other producers entered the room.

you tended to have more friends at work. everyone told you spent too much time at work but it's what you loved to do, and you wouldn't give it up for anything.

toby eventually arrived with florence by his side. once you laid your eyes on the long-haired blonde, your eyes couldn't leave her. she look gorgeous in her jeans and black long sleeve turtle neck. you knew she was on a flight today, so she probably changed.

when it was finally your turn to introduce yourself and you choked, her hand was out to shake but it took you three seconds before you it registered to you that you weren't looking through a tv screen and it was real life.

"hello, I'm florence" she says when you finally shake her hand.

"y/n" you respond, "I've heard lots about you" you scold yourself silently.

florence tilted her head, she smiled a little, as if she was curious about what her brother could say about her when you were working. "all good i hope"

"sorry about interrupting, were just leaving. you'll have those samples for the album ready for us tomorrow morning?" one of your producer friends asks. if you could, you would scold them for taking your attention off of florence.

"yeah, yeah. ill send them over in the morning" you nod, trying to advert your eyes from florence as she moved to sit on your bean bag on one side of the room.

"can always count on you, y/l/n. we will expect nothing short of perfection" the other producer says as they both walk out.

"flattery will get you everywhere with me" you joke back and turn back to toby and florence.

"no pressure" florence jokes and you smile back at her.

"with y/n, we'll be done with the sample in two seconds," toby says, complimenting your skills without actually saying it. he sat by the chair closest to you at the soundboard.

"so what do you two do here all day?" florence questions.

you and toby start telling her all about your sessions, the times where you had to have pizza as dinner and stay later because you got a spark of inspiration. the time where you wrote two whole songs together in one plane ride, and all the times that made you two closer as best friends. well, you were enjoying it till toby started telling his sister all your embarrassing stories.

"hey hey, don't start. till i start telling florence about all the time i had to be your wing woman just for you to lose the girl at the end of the night" you tease and you could see tobys face drop.

"now i wanna hear about this!"

the rest of the night was spent sharing embarrassing stories and laughing. you knew now that florence was at the studio, you would get no work done.

florence yawns, it's almost one in the morning, "you tired, pugh?" you tease her.

"give me a break i had an early flight," she says and you laugh.

"you know what, I'm getting tired too, we should head out," toby says and you don't move from your chair, "you're staying?" you give a simple nod, and toby sighs, knowing there's no way he's going to be able to convince you to leave the studio.

when going to say goodbye to florence, you pull her into a hug and whisper into her ear, "goodnight, darling" you didn't miss the blush on her cheeks.

you didn't sleep that night. while getting the sample done you would get distracted and finish other projects for other songs in the album. this went on until you saw the time on your phone. quickly, you sent the file to the producers and texted toby the sample, getting up your seat and cleaning the room as you left it. you grabbed your third cup of coffee and left the building.

as your drove home, you were second-guessing yourself in your sleep-deprived state, when you got a call from toby you were grateful for the child you called your best friend. you knew if you stayed on the call with him through the car ride you would be safe.

toby was asking about your night and other things you completed about the studio. you decided to ignore florences voice when you heard her in the background behind tobys voice. toby ended up inviting you to a friendly dinner but you politely declined.

little to your knowledge, there was a pouting florence pugh in front of toby.

florence was going to be home for a total of three weeks, and she was determined to land a date with you by the end of her trip.

she lost the first week since you were out in California working for other producers and having meetings (from what toby told florence), so she waited until you came back to invite you to dinner at her family's house.

you raised an eyebrow, "you sure, pugh? i don't want to steal your spotlight"

"oh as of you could ever, y/l/n" florence jokes and you raise your hands in surrender.

"okay okay, i'll go"

it wasn't hard to convince you to go, you had been to the pugh family house multiple times before but this time florence would be there.

you fell into a conversation with arabella and toby once at the house. florence had taken a little longer today to get ready. soon, raffie joined the conversation. there was always a playful love the relationship between you and raffie. she pretended to hate you because you were a workaholic and would drag her brother into it. but in reality, she loved your fun personality and was grateful for getting along with her whole family.

it seemed as if everyone in the house knew why florence was taking so long to get ready. she was usually easygoing with meeting new people and loved making the first impression but you were a whole different story for her. even if she hasn't said anything about you to her family, they all knew she was getting extra dolled up because you were going to be at the dinner.

you left the group of siblings to go to the bathroom and as you were walking in the hallway, florence stepped out of a room. she looked surprised to see you.

you gave her a friendly smile and hugged her, "well don't you look gorgeous"

you knew you were pushing it once you saw her cheeks blush from more than her makeup. florence thanked you and you excused yourself to go to the restroom. when you finished in the bathroom, you walked out and heard laughter from the dining room. you made your way to the table and saw everyone walking in and grabbing their empty plates.

"oh, come here, i was just serving your plate" you heard florence say, when you look over you got a look at her. while holding a saddle and pouring food into your plate, she had a gorgeous sundress on that complimented her curves. you were practically drooling in front of her family.

"pick your jaw up off the floor, it's my sister," toby said, jabbing your side with his elbow and walking off, you were about to retort, but florence called you over asking if you wanted more than what she served.

"that's great, thank you, hun," you say, taking the plate from her hands and sitting down at the table.

as dinner started, you made jokes with the other family as if they were your own. all while you would sneak glances at florence. you tried hard to not let your attraction shine through but it's been proven difficult when florence is looking divine.

it was a known tradition to watch a movie after dinner when everyone was at the house, and fortunately for you, you were caught in it this time.

"dinner was delicious, thank you," you say to florences' parents as you help clean the table. you then go back to the living room where all the siblings are separated as they waited for their parents to start the movie.

when you sat next to toby, from the corner of your eye, you saw florence pout. you turned to her with a smirk, "what?" you softly pat the seat next to you and she rushes towards you.

you hold your laugh in, but toby didn't. you heard the man laughing from beside you and you looked over at him, "you owe me" he whispers towards you.

later that night, you said your goodbyes to everyone but discreetly asked florence to follow you to the front door.

"i was just wondering if you'd go on a date with me?" you didn't get an answer. well, as soon as you finished, florence pulled you into a searing kiss. you grab onto her waist for stability but pulled away once you realized you needed air.

"i'm guessing that's a yes?"

"took you long enough"

[allthingsfuckd]

soft spot | Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

summary: Bucky, the diner owner pining for the reader, a regular at the diner and best friend, for years.

a/n: i wanted to post a Peter Parker fic but i had writer's block until i came to this idea. it's based on a few of my fav Luke and Lorelai moments from Gilmore Girls combined into this one fic. i hope you enjoy! as usual, feedback is very much appreciated and my requests are open. (you don't need to watch Gilmore Girls to understand it)

warning(s): fluff, teen pregnancy, absent father, pining.

“Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee,” you repeated, your chest pressed against the counter, an evil smile on your face. He turned to face you and placed his hands on the counter, the chanting stopped. You purse your lips trying to contain your smile.

“You know it ruins your body, slowly corrodes your insides, and makes you die really really young, right?” he says squinting at you as he makes hand gestures.

“That’s the intention,” you say smiling up at him showing your teeth. You both stayed like that for a few seconds until he turned around, grabbed a mug, and the kettle from the coffee machine. Still squinting at you, he poured the coffee in the mug and slid it over the counter to you.

“I really hope it’s soon,” he grumbles, throwing the kitchen towel on his shoulders, and walks (or stomps) back to the kitchen. You sat there, coffee in your hands, smiling as you took a sip.

The door rings open and you hear a familiar voice. “Did you get one for me?” you turned in your bar stool to look at the figure that walked up to you. The beautiful girl who you delightfully brought into the world almost 16 years ago, Leah.

You shook your head, fake-pouting. A grumble came from the teen, something you could very much relate to; caffeine deficiency. “I tried, I tried but Bucky’s in his element this morning,” you shrugged your shoulders, stretching to the left to see if he was still in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get one myself. He likes me,” she turned to face the kitchen, chanting his name as you did earlier. You hear them arguing as you enjoyed the drink in your hand. It was white noise to you — the arguing, especially in Bucky’s diner. With him being the crabby man you’ve always known him to be, it was basically daily routine.

“You were right, he is grumpy this morning,” she said when he walked away again, this time to the back. “Wonder what happened,” she said, shrugging as she took a sip of her coffee.

People in the town have always talked about how similar you both were; you and Leah. Sometimes it did feel like you were looking in the mirror and reliving your teen years as she told you stories about her day and it would scare the fuck out of you.

“Hey, so birthday planning. Let’s go,” she patted your forearm, waking you from your thoughts, excited to turn 16. You sat up and giggled, feeling excitement running up your spine.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have it at home this year,” she nods. “After last year’s event, I vowed to never again go to a Ms. Patty party,” you both shudder, remembering the massive drunken embarrassment you had to go through at your 15-year-old’s birthday party. “Before that, we’re going somewhere special, a surprise if you may. Then we’re going shopping, which thank god your birthday is the end of the month. Cause how could we have lux on your birthday without a paycheck. We’ve got a date with your dad, says he wants to finally actually give you your gift in person this year? And a massive birthday cake with your face on it by the one and only Sookie, as per tradition,” you yap, fast-paced.

“Wait, we’re meeting dad?” she asks, cutting you off. You nodded fast, feeling the caffeine kick in. She smiled, looking down at her mug. And that’s when you felt beat up. When it came to Christopher, it always put a smile on her face. Maybe they were right. You were alike. So easily manipulated by the one man in both of your lives, who is only always there when time and circumstances met his convenience. Something naivete and youth made Leah fail to realize.

“Okay, kiddo. We’ll discuss birthday matters this evening, it’s almost 8,” you picked up her bag, gravity pulling your hand down soon after. “Woah, wormie, what are you carrying? Bricks?” you teased.

“You never know how much reading I can get done with all the waiting we do in school,” she whined after downing her coffee. She kissed your cheek and left the diner.

“God, that kid is something special,” you hear Bucky say as you both watched her walk to the school right opposite the diner. You turned around looking down at your mug, Bucky noticing a frown on your face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, bending down to look at your face.

You looked up, smiling a little. “It’s Leah’s dad,” you scrunched your nose. You never talked about Chris with anyone in the town except with Sookie and Bucky, the name and subject a sensitive topic to you. Never saying his name as if terrified some sort of evil would be summoned. Your relationship with him was beyond complex. You were best friends before anything, you-me-against-the-world (or against parents and the rich community you were brought up in), you knew him like the back of your hand. You still see him as such but since you found out you were pregnant, it all took a different turn and it wasn’t something you felt was right for either of you.

“He called again,” Bucky’s voice annoyed, rolling his eyes. He’d met him once and it was the most awkward, testosterone-filled conversation you’d ever witness. You snickered, knowing how he, as much as you, despised talking about him. “Hey,” he touches your forearm with his leather-gloved forefinger. You looked up at him. “If anything, you come to me,” you half-smiled.

Everyone in this small town knew about the mother-daughter dynamic you and Leah had. Hearing how she turned out great with just you raising her was something you heard very often, something you wished you felt through every fiber of your being. But you didn’t. And Bucky knew you struggled with that, trying his best to remind you every time you doubted. More often than not, she reminded you a lot more of Bucky than Chris, since she grew up knowing Bucky more than her dad.

“Thanks, old man,” you said, snickering behind your mug. He backed away from the counter, his grumpy face showing again. His eyebrows furrowed and his cheekbones prominent. He hated it when you called him that. He may be over a hundred years old but technically he was your age, he would remind you. “There he is!” you cheered, laughing at his frowned face.

“You have a problem,” Bucky said, taking the mug from your hand, and you slid the bill across the table. Still maintaining your gazes, seeing a small smile starting to form on his lips.

You were known by the whole town to be completely oblivious, seemingly being the only one who doesn’t know how Bucky has been pining for you for years. Even from Mars, the love he held for you in his heart could be seen. He tried several times to ask you out on a date, getting closer and closer each time he would try but something always had to happen right at the time he wanted to spit the words out of his mouth. A coward, as Sam, another regular at the diner, would call him when he realized he'd been staring at her.

You did, however, think about dating him once after having a moment with him in the diner. It was late, and you wanted coffee after a bad date. Nearly kissing until Kirk came into the diner to get his emergency late-night burger. You brought it to Leah’s attention, but to that she immediately declined, saying it might ruin the best coffee in town for the both of you.

Saturday rolled around; Leah’s birthday. You woke her up at 3 a.m., another annual essential where you would tell her the infamous story of the day she was born.

“What do you think of your life thus far, my dear?” you brushed her hair as your lied down next to her.

“I think it’s great,” she yawned.

“Any complaints?” you asked, and she shook her head. “I think you’re a great cool kid and the best friend a girl could have,” you said to her lovingly.

“Back at ya,” she answered.

“And it’s so hard to believe that many moons ago I was lying in exactly this same position,” you looked up at the ceiling, flashbacks playing in your head.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Leah said. You shushed her and continued the story.

When you walked into the diner, you were greeted by Bucky at the front door. You frowned at him, being too close to you, your hands hovered over his chest. He opened an arm to gesture you to a table by the window on your right. When you looked, your jaw dropped. He decorated the table. He laid a beautiful lace tablecloth, with a vase filled with flowers in the middle and balloons next to one of the chairs and Leah’s favorite; a rainbow cake, with a lot of frosting.

“Bucky, what is this? This isn’t you. And flowers?” you looked at him, eyes in disbelief. He shrugged. “This is amazing,” you touched the table cloth, mouth agape. “Thank you, Bucky,” you hugged him, his face red to which you were too busy to see.

He walked away, knowing your order before you could tell him. The Y/N Special he printed in the new menu. Leah came into the diner, you sat up and smiled as you waited for her reaction. “What is all this?” her jaw dropped as well.

“It’s all Bucky,” you shook your head, as she caressed the lace tablecloth. “Where he got this tablecloth? No idea!” you leaned in, whispering loudly.

“Bucky, you big ole softy,” she said to Bucky who came with your regular. He blushed when she gave him a hug, quiet as he walked back behind the counter. Your eyes followed him, still surprised by his adorable gesture.

“Hey, remember what I said about dating Bucky?” you asked her, still looking at Bucky who was taking orders. She hummed as she gobbled down her food. “Do you think it’ll work out if we did?” you asked again.

“Honestly, I think it will,” she said, cheeks stuffed with food. “Especially after this,” she gestured to the decorations. “But yeah, I do,” she said after swallowing her food, following your gaze to look at him.

It was the first time she’d ever okayed a man in your life other than Chris. You both loved Bucky especially after what he’s been through. The grumpy demeanor he displays justified.

Lane, Leah’s best friend walked into the diner, squealing as she hugged and wished her. You stood up with your order and walked to the counter to allow them to chat.

“Hey, Buck,” you said, seeing him clean his toaster. He hummed, his back still facing you. “With your expertise displayed on the very lovely table there, could you help Sookie out with decorating my place while Leah and I frolic about town?” you asked, chewing on your waffles.

“Yeah, sure anything for my best customers,” he said as he grunted, fixing the toaster.

“Why don’t you use your tools?” you asked, pointing at the toaster with your knife. Stopping what he did, he turned to shoot a glare at you.

“My toolbox is sitting in your lovely home collecting dust because you could not and will not bother to give it back to me,” he complained. You snickered knowingly since you purposely brought up his toolbox.

“Well, it’s the only thing in the house that warns burglars that there could possibly be a man in the house,” you said melodramatically as you enjoyed your food. He grabbed the knife and fork out of your hand, your hands up in the air and mouth open. You placed your hands on your lap and sighed.

“Fine, you can have John back,” you said. His eyebrows crossed in confusion and frustration. You had a track record of being stubborn and playful. Something everyone who knew you grew to normalise.

“Not every non-living thing needs to have a name,” he said, putting the utensils back on your plate.

“Yes they do. I could tell visitors that John is in the living room sitting on the floor,” and you continued to yap Bucky’s ears off until you left to bring Leah on her birthday adventure. Reminding him that you left the decorations by the couch at home and he could use the key hidden under the turtle statue.

It was almost 1 a.m., Bucky heard a loud voice from outside, he dragged his feet to the window and opened it, sticking half his body out. Flinching when he saw a stone coming in his direction. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at you in your pjs, holding a pillow under your arm. He was wearing short-sleeved t-shirt, something you barely saw him wear.

“I’m homeless! I’ve got nowhere to go,” you shouted back. You heard a window open at the next building and turned to face it. An old man appeared out of the window.

“Hey, would you shut up? It’s late!” the old man with his thick Boston accent shouted at you. You looked at him and then at Bucky then back at him and burst out laughing. “Would you please get her the hell outta here?” the man said to Bucky and went back inside. He went down to get you, groaning as he walked down finding you, still in a fit of laughter.

“The resemblance? Uncanny!” you said, still laughing as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the diner.

You helped Bucky set up the mattress after looking around his apartment and teasing him for things he owned. Being friends with him for years, you’d never been in his “home” above the diner before.

“What made you homeless tonight?” Bucky asks as you fixed the bedsheet together.

“Everyone else passed out drunk, even Chris,” you said. Shocked that you brought up his name, he fiddled with his fingers as he sat by his dining table. “I’m still kinda drunk. That name slipped out of my mouth,” you said, laughing nervously, sitting next to him.

“What did he do this time?” he asked looking up from his hands.

“Surprisingly, he was nice. He was a dad for once but he hasn’t left so we’ll see what happens,” you sighed. Bucky knew the reason for your uncertainty with raising Leah was because of Chris. The seed of doubt sprouted after years of Chris reminding you that you couldn’t do it alone which made Bucky’s blood boil.

“At least she’s not pregnant yet,” you said, running your hands against the wooden dining table.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he said. “You were 16?” he asked.

“15 and a half,” you pointed out. “Ruined my 16th birthday, my mother said. What a disappointment it must have been for my parents to have me,” you looked at him.

“Can’t imagine anyone seeing you as a disappointment,” he shook his head and you sighed.

“You know, Buck. Seeing what you do for Leah, I bet you’ll make a great dad one day,” you mention, examining his face. His eyes looked sleepy.

“You make a great mom. This whole town can vouch for that fact. For how young you were when you had her, 15 and a half? Every parent makes mistakes but you make the mistakes seem like fun,” you chuckled. “You were never alone in raising her. The town has played a part in raising her with you much more than Chris ever did so I don’t know what the fuck he’s talkin' about,” he says, a lump formed in your throat.

“Yeah, it’s just the daughter part I, uh, I don’t have down yet,” Bucky exhaled through his nose. You thought about a recent fight you had with Leah about the boy she’d been dating. Something you brought up as a problem because you were terrified of possible outcomes. But you knew he was a great boy, Dean. Sweet, charming and a gentleman.

“You looked great tonight,” you placed your hand on his, you felt the cold metal against your skin. You’d never really seen his metal arm, always hidden under the sleeve of his leather jacket and gloves. His signature look, even in the summer. You stroked his metal hand and even though he couldn’t physically feel your touch, he felt goosebumps form on his skin. Physical touch was never a part of your friendship.

He smirked, raising his brow and tilting his head making you roll your eyes. “I don’t mean you don’t look great all the time, you do, and,” you groaned. “Don’t be cocky now,” you clicked your tongue, laughing, still smirking at you.

“You looked great too,” his voice cracked, coughing to clear his throat. “y/n,” he called your name, his voice lower and deeper.

“Yeah?” you whispered. His eyes softer than you were used to, finally seeing his blue eyes.

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?” he asked, eyes looking at your lips then back to your eyes. He felt his palm get sweaty, heart thumped loudly in his chest he swore you could hear it. He’d always have the words play in his head but he never thought the moment would ever come.

You felt your cheeks burn, you never thought he’d ever ask you. He studied your face to predict what you were gonna say, cringing a little expecting a bad answer or a laugh.

“I would love to, Buck,” you bit your bottom lip. He let out the breath he held, smiling as he shifted in his seat. After years of pining, he finally got to take his favorite girl on a date.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 1

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story Description:

❝It's like an afterglow.❞

❝Yes, like an afterglow. If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable.❞

❝A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset. But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people, are some things you can never miss.❞

But there's one little detail you had missed, that you both missed: that you've already met years earlier.

You're a 25-year old photographer and part-time bartender, and has heard countless stories about the adventures of your roommate's stepbrother, Bucky Barnes -- a clumsy, party-driven 38-year old businessman. One day, you stumble upon Bucky inside your apartment on a Saturday night that would change both of your lives forever as you both take pleasure in the afterglow.

A/N: I already have this on Wattpad but with a female OC. This is my first ever Bucky Barnes fan fic and I hope you guys like it :)

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey, y/n. I think Nick wants to ask you out on a date." Peter Parker, your roommate, brought his beer bottle towards his mouth. His eyes were fixated somewhere while you were wiping droplets of beer on the countertop. You looked at his face features illuminated by the light from his laptop. "You should really put coasters here, y'know." he added.

"Shut it, Parker," You rolled your eyes at him, "or no more free drinks for you."

"He's into you." He sang and averted his eyes somewhere. You followed his gaze which was on Nick Miller who was talking to some loud blondes on the booth, taking their orders.

"I'm not talking to you anymore." You put your hand up, blocking Peter's face and walked away. You greeted some customers approaching the bar counter. "Good evening, gentlemen, what would you like to drink?"

"Shots of tequila," one replied, "and keep 'em coming, doll!" The other three cheered which you knew annoyed Peter.

The bar was packed tonight. Saturdays were the only days New Yorkers were almost free for a chill drink hangout. College boys hang by the billiards table on the corner, office girls sip their margaritas on one of the booths, thirty-year old women shoot darts on the dartboard as if the board were their husbands, thirty-year old dads with their caps on drinking hard beer on one of the tables, kids who just turned twenty-one ordering their first drink legally, lonely people by the jukebox or on the bar counter telling their sad tales to the bartender and Peter Parker casually drinking beer with a laptop in front of him.

"You really should stop doing your work here on the bar." You approached Peter once more. "You're bumming people out."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his eyes glued on the laptop. "You're bumming me out."

"Seriously, do your business work elsewhere. Go to a coffee place or something. Starbucks isn't that far."

"You know I work better with beer"

"How can I forget?"

You and Peter go way back. You two had met in business school and had been roommates ever since. While you would pull an all-nighter in your shared apartment, Peter would struggle to open the front door, dance around in the living room like he had left feet and threw his final papers on the floor. He'd end up waking up your other roommates, Mickey and Pablo (who would usually join him by the way), leaving poor you cleaning up their mess the next morning. You'd put Peter to bed, seeing as the other morons were incapable of doing so. The next day, Peter's bed would reek of the pungent smell of beer and cigarettes. Though he didn't smoke ("and I never will!"), cigarette smoke disgustingly clung to his clothes and skin, which you found rather unpleasant. Even with all the alcohol in his system, Peter managed to pass all his exams and graduate with flying colors. You hated that.

"I don't get why you drink so much during exam week." You sighed, handing Peter a glass of water. He wasn't an alcoholic but he did turn into one right before midterms and finals start. It was somehow seasonal. According to Peter, it helped him focus. "You're not supposed to drink before a big exam, y'know."

"Hemingway drinks. He writes better when he drinks."

"You're a business major. Not a writer. You don't even read literature."

"Look at you now cleaning other people's messes." Peter chuckled, closing his laptop. You sighed and wiped the counter with much vigor. The four gentlemen from earlier left a pretty big mess toasting shots before they went towards the billiards table.

"Please, this is not the kind of bar you used to go to." You responded, making a gin and tonic. "This is a smoke-free, grope-free, friendly bar. No dancing, no loud stereo music -- just your regular bar where you can relax with your friends after a long day at work."

Peter turned around and tilted his head towards the jukebox. "There's someone dancing right now beside the jukebox."

"Not that kind of dancing." A 20-something year old man was breakdancing to some old beat you've never even heard of.

"Y'know it's really ironic you're working at a bar now. Oh, how you used to hate them."

"It's the only job I can do." You shrugged. "Besides photography, of course. And again, this is not that kind of bar. Think of it like a MacLaren's Pub from that tv show. Kind of funny how it's also just below our apartment building. If only we lived in this building in college, I would've enjoyed bars more."

You once went to one party at a crowded bar where Peter had surprisingly invited you. Writhing bodies pressed up against each other. Body shots from strangers. Toilets that reeked of beer vomit and pee. An "accidental" kiss between you and Peter in the bar that lead into a steamy makeout session as soon as you got in the apartment you both shared. Up to this day, neither of you spoke of that night and perhaps that day wouldn't come -- You really hoped it didn't. Wouldn't want to open a can of worms from the past.

"You're a boring old hag." Peter snorted.

"Hmm, I'd like to disagree. I can make drinks and you can't."

"Oh, you know who can make drinks, though? My stepbrother!"

Ah, yes. His stepbrother. The infamous Bucky Barnes. Born in the upper east side of New York and sadly, out of wedlock. Orphaned at a young age and adopted by a man named Tony Stark who then married Peter's mother. A successful hotel business owner (but not really famous), and the star of Peter's countless stories. Been arrested once for streaking. Got Peter out of detention in high school. Trespassed school premises. TP'd a house during Valentine's Day. Caught naked by a newly-wed in a hotel room. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"I know. He makes the best bloody drinks of all time." You mimicked Peter the way he would -- insulting and proud -- which he didn't like as he shot dagger-like eyes at you. His expressions changed in a snap.

"Oh, that reminds me. He's in town!"

"I thought he was in Monaco?"

"Yeah, no. He travels a lot."

"Does that mean I now get to meet this famous stepbrother of yours?" You smirked, pulling out shot glasses from one of the cabinets.

"I'm not sure he would want to meet you. You're not exactly in his league."

"You mean snobby and rich?" You laughed while fixing the shot glasses on the counter. "I'm aware."

"I mean classy." He adjusted his tie.

You snickered. "Yeah, all those stories were real classy, Parker. Top-notch."

"You know what I mean, y/n - suits, money, stuff like that. Bucky's changed." One big sip of beer. "I think."

"Ya think?" You scoffed.

"Maybe, I don't know. Haven't spoken to him in a while. He's always traveling and stuff. Hard to keep track of him."

"Sounds to me like he's on a run from the bad guys." You joked which Peter didn't find funny.

"What do you mean?"

Peter idolized Bucky. He was the sole reason why he got into business in the first place -- no, they didn't spend late nights talking in their backyard basketball court about how fulfilling business is and all that crap like brothers would do. Peter just wanted to be like Bucky. To be in the world of money, booze, and then more money. That kind of crap. "It was a joke, Parker. This Bucky sounds like he may have done some stupid stuff but I doubt he's into something illegal or what."

"Yeah, he's a good guy." But even Peter didn't sound convinced of himself. He took a big gulp of his beer.

Nick approached the counter, avoiding your eyes but a smile landed on his lips as soon as he neared you. You could hear Peter chuckling. "Hey, Nick."

Nick acknowledged him by saying a small hello and started preparing a bunch of Bloody Marys for the blonde girls by the booth. Peter watched him, finishing his beer. You gave him a look before walking away to serve some drinks -- which he just mocked in return. With a tray of beer in your right hand, you approached the four gentlemen from before at the billiards table and gave them their drinks. Seeing a couple of girls slide out of one of the booths, you grabbed a washcloth and a bottle spray on the cleaning station and headed to clean the girls' mess. The table reeked of Gin and tonic, Margaritas, Grasshopper, a couple of beers and Long Island Iced Tea. Well, that's a weirdly wild group of friends.

While cleaning up the booth, you glanced up at the printed photographs on the walls which were yours. Black and white portraits of strangers. Flashes of red and blue lights on the streets. Giant buildings. Random people on Central Park and New York streets. Peter drinking beer at the booth with his co-workers. And the owner of the bar who was always cooped up inside his small office. Photos that didn't sell in your exhibit always went to the bar, in hopes that someone might find them somewhat good -- good enough to take home. But that wasn't the case. To them, the photos were just mere decorations at the bar; they just wanted to have a good time and couldn't be bothered to even take one shy glance at the bartender's photos. You wanted to think they just had zero taste when it comes to photography to make yourself feel better but you were wrong. It just made you feel worse.

Just when you were about to turn around, Peter slid into the booth. You almost dropped the things you were holding. "Jesus, Parker."

He looked up at the photos. "Told ya your photos won't sell here."

"That's not what I was thinking." Lie. You walked towards the bar counter with Peter on your tail. He sat once more on the high stool and immensely watched as you placed some glasses on the counter.

"Come work for our company. We could really use your skills for our products." He leaned in, trying to get your attention. It wasn't the first time he tried to convince you to go work for his company.

"For the nth time, I'm no corporate slave."

"You're working at a bar. You make drinks and serve people. Some of these fuckers have corporate jobs as well - like me! If you think about it," he crossed his arms, placing them on top of the counter, "it's kind of like serving these corporations you hate."

With a frown, you asked, "What kind of logic is that?"

"A businessman's logic."

"If that's the case, the corporate world is dead." You smirked, washing the glasses. Peter was no businessman. He was just a part of a sales team, making marketing pitch presentations every week or so. Honestly, you couldn't keep up with his presentations. "I'd be happy to join then."

"Come on, Aria. You can't be juggling two jobs for the rest of your life. You can get one big job at our company and you'll get paid big time. Plus," he leaned in further, almost getting up from the stool, "we'll be working together. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm honestly getting tired of you." You chuckled, sprinkling some water on Peter's face. "And my answer is still no. I don't want to work for your company. I like freelancing and bartending." That wasn't a lie. Despite graduating from business school, you decided to pursue your passion in photography even if the pay couldn't cover your half of the rent. So, you decided to take a waitressing job at the bar just below your apartment, and then started bartending. Out of all the establishments you could've gone to, you chose this very bar because it was the most convenient option of all -- it was just below the apartment. Being a photographer and a part-time bartender weren't exactly the dream you had for yourself but you liked them; nothing gave you more pleasure than taking product photos for small businesses and making drinks for strangers who happen to stumble upon one of the best bars in the Upper West Side.

Peter sighed. "I'm never giving up on you. I'm not a quitter."

"Whatever you say, big guy." Peter had been at it for a few years.

"I hate you." Peter groaned.

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Peter rolled his eyes and caught a quick glance at the wall clock. "Hey, your shift's almost over. Better hurry up."

"Right. Thanks, Parker." You began placing back the shot glasses on one of the cabinets then hurriedly walked into a small door on the back. You greeted your boss who was just doing some paperworks.

"Hey, Steve. I'm heading out."

"Right, right." Steve looked up from his laptop and removed his specs, placing them on the table.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you could even close the door, Steve called you.

"Yeah?"

"Nick's not gonna be here tomorrow afternoon and I'm gonna be in Long Island for some family reunion. Would you mind checking all the deliveries for tomorrow?"

"Well, what about the others?"

"Ah, they're no good." Steve sighed. "I only trust you and Nick."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nick? Really?" You wouldn't trust Nick with anything -- not even with some dumb, silly secret.

Steve shrugged. "He's a good kid. He and I get along. So, do I get a yes?"

"Yeah, sure. I got nothing going on tomorrow."

"No photography thingy?"

You pursed your lips. "Not unless you want me to take photos for your family reunion."

"No way in hell am I gonna let you meet my family."

"Aw, you said you trust me."

He chuckled and leaned back on his office chair. "Go home, y/n."

You sent him a smile before heading back to the counter to meet Peter who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "Let's go, Parker."

You two walked up the steps towards your apartment building, shoulders bumping from time to time. You and Peter lived on the fifth floor. You would've gotten your own place but your parents cut you off since you refused to work for the family supermarket your family owned in Hoboken, New Jersey. The last time you spoke to your parents was almost three years ago, when you threw a huge tantrum like a damn baby at your graduation party. "There's nothing for me here in New Jersey! It's as boring as these two old couples next door. (No offense). I hated business school. I want to pursue photography whether you like it or not. I'm not staying in this hellhole forever."

"You walk out that door, you're out of here forever."

And out you went with only a couple of clothes and some leftover college money. The only sliver of hope you had was Peter.

"Hey, y/n?" Peter asked as soon as you got inside the elevator. "Hypothetically, if Nick asked you out on a date, would you say yes?"

You gave him a weird look after the elevator doors closed before you. "I don't know, man. Never dip the pen in company ink, right?" You fished for your apartment key on your purse. "How are you so sure he's gonna ask me out?"

"He flat out told me that's how." He replied. "Yesterday night. So, if he does ask you..."

"Why are you so invested in my dating life?"

"You have no dating life." He retorted.

Peter was one to talk. He also didn't have one.

"You know what I mean, idiot."

He shrugged. "Just curious."

The elevator doors opened and you both headed towards your apartment unit, with Peter still yapping about Nick this and Nick that. You groaned, getting ultimately tired of hearing Nick's name and the possibility of you and him dating. "Maybe you should date him, Parker."

"You date him."

You gave him a confused look. "Shut up, Parker."

"Wait, you know what? Don't date him. I don't like him for you. He's weird and -- "

"No, I mean it. Shut. Up." You hissed, stopping on your tracks and grabbing Peter by his arm. You were right outside your apartment unit. There was a small gap between the door and the door frame. It seemed like someone broke in..

"What do we do? What do we do?" Peter half-yelled, half-whispered.

"Have the cops on speed dial. If it really is a robbery, call them. Got it?"

"What if they have guns?"

"I'll tell them to shoot you first."

"Gee, thanks for looking after me. Appreciate it."

You smirked, your hands already on the door. Slowly, you pushed it away from your body, failing to make it as quiet as possible as the door creaked against the floorboards. You gently looked around the dark living room, seeing no sign of someone inside -- until your eyes caught something moving on the couch. Your eyes went wide. You went back in the hallway where Peter was standing with his phone in his hand, ready to press the call button.

"Well?" He was waiting for an answer.

"I think someone's crashing on our couch?" Even you looked confused.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Either that or a large animal just broke into our apartment. Come on, let's go see." You whispered, trying not to wake up the uninvited guest.

"I'm not going in there!"

"Fine, I'll wake the bastard up." You groaned. "Pussy."

"Dick." He snickered but zipped his mouth shut as soon as you sent him a glare.

Without a noise, you managed to get closer, using the light from your phone as a guide. On the couch was a huge blanket sprawled across and under that was the rhythmic sound of someone breathing. Your hand lightly trembled, reaching for the blanket to unveil whoever was under it; but before you could even touch a single thread, the person jumped out of the couch, and so did your heart. You let out a scream, falling backwards and hitting your head on one of the small tables beside the couch. The unknown person stood on the couch, and awfully joined your screams. The lights suddenly turned on, with Peter standing by the door.

"Oh my god!" You yelped as soon as you realized the man in front of you was naked. No clothes, no nothing, just bare skin against the cold breeze. Your hands immediately flew to your eyes. "Who the hell are you?" Your screamed at him.

He urged you to remove your hand from your eyes, telling you he was wrapping the blanket around his waist. Thankfully, he wasn't lying.

"Bucky?" Peter breathed, approaching the scene.

"This is Bucky?" You asked in disbelief.

Bucky smiled and jumped off the couch, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Bucky."

[izzabeean]

Light Me Up | Hanma Shuuji x Reader

summary : your first kiss with Hanma Shuuji.

pairing : hanma shuuji x tsundere!reader

warnings/tags : alternate universe, she/her reader, fluff, slightly suggestive, pining, first kiss, underage smoking.

genre : fluff

word count : 1,371

a/n :  just a short drabble I wrote when I was having writer block. please enjoy ~

The slick click of the lighter emits a soft flame illuminating Hanma’s face as he holds the cigarette between his lips. With an inhale, he takes a long drag, lighting up the smoke. He breathes in alleviating fumes and exhales out the excitement that once consumed him. Then pauses, looking down grinning at the almost unconscious teenager underneath his foot. Surely, he could have just patiently waited upon your arrival, but you running late caught him in intense boredom. It wasn’t his fault he always looked for excitement -- though his form of excitement always resorted to violence. He knew if you caught him entertaining himself with this, he wouldn’t hear the last of it. Picturing it now, you would narrow your eyes at him whilst your cheeks get all rosy and you’d stomp over to him yelling at how stupid he is for beating up other kids. You were very precious to him. Even if you didn’t really know.

He kicks the kid’s side causing him to grunt to which Hanma snickers maniacally before walking out of the dark alleyway. It’s a Friday evening and much more crowded than during the week. People are walking around, some to meet up with friends to grab dinner, and some hurrying back home from a long day at work. With his hands in his jacket pockets and cigarette between his teeth, he scans the unruly crowd of people in hopes you’ll finally show. Though you’re self-aware you are always running late, it was a pet peeve of his, standing around wasting his time whilst waiting for you to arrive. In reality, he could just show up later, but he never wanted to in case you actually showed up on time. 

Hanma scans the streets once more and there you are. He notices you’re not wearing your usual school uniform. It’s easy to forget every encounter you’ve had with each other is on your way home after school. He had been struck by your presence upon meeting you for the first time, when you caught him in the act of beating up some high schoolers outside your school, and on numerous occasions afterward when you scolded him for his actions. Normally, he would have ignored your inexplicability to involve yourself in someone else’s business, but something about you intrigued him. You seem so temperamental and cold to the touch that any time you’d scowl at him, chills would go down his spine. For months, he’d run into you after school, it’d become almost routine, looking forward to seeing you at the end of his days. 

But something he refused to admit. At first, he tried to ignore it, the countless times he thought about you and what your lips might taste like. But every time he sees you, he realizes how much he actually likes having you close. You’re annoying, condescending, and rude, and yet there’s not a thing in the world he could change about it. Pursuing you wasn’t something he’d ever been sure about, but your personality was a clear enough indication that he would always be entertained with you. 

You finally make eye contact with him but remain impassive. The sight makes his heart skip a beat.

“Wow, someone got dressed up,” he purrs, drinking you up while noticing his comment makes your eyes roll. “You should look like this all the time.”

“Shut up Hanma,” you utter. “I’m already pissed off.”

Your aggressive attitude always contrasted your cute appearance, it also didn't help that he was much taller than you. Once he compared you to a shrimp and boy did you rage at him for forever, he didn't know where you got all that energy from. But it was quite amusing from his point of view.

“Shouldn’t I be since you’re late?” He teases taking a swig of his cigarette, but you look behind him and spot the teenager on the ground attempting to get up.

“Oh my god,” you murmur gesturing to Hanma’s earlier fun. “Seriously?”

“Can’t blame me for getting a bit bored,” he coos.

“I can’t stand you,” you groan.

“Then why are you here?” He grins, taking a step closer to you.

“Cause...” You start and he can see your face grow flush as he looms above, pride swells inside him at the thought that he’s embarrassed you. But you're quick to recover by crossing your arms and turning your face into a scowl. “You asked me to be.” 

“That’s lame,” he says, then snickers eyes scanning your body. “So you’ll always do what I ask?”

“Why? You going to get bored of me?” You snap watching as his tattooed hand draws the cigarette away. 

“Depends,” he says before licking his lips as he waits for you to reply.

“You’re fucking sick,” you grumble pulling out the last cigarette in your pack. You put the smoke to your lips while patting your pockets to check for your lighter. “Do you have a light?”

Hanma’s heart tugs as he reaches into his pocket for the lighter. The way you snap at him makes your conversations so much easier to enjoy; if anything, he wants to know how you’d react if he was actually in trouble. You seem so irresistible, and it’s clear to him that you have some sort of burning intention as to why you choose to meet up with him. 

Hanma pulls out a lighter to hand it to you. But you just lean forward holding the cigarette between your fingers. 

“Light it for me.”

That gets his attention more than you thought it would. Your eyes are inviting, a little softer than they usually are and you keep them locked on his as he strikes the lighter holding it up to your smoke. You grab his hand holding the lighter, steading the flame before inhaling the alluring elixir. When he pulls the flame away you continue to hold his gaze exhaling a cloud then putting the cigarette back between your lips. 

“Thanks,” you say, voice quiet and raspy.  Hanma notices the relief course through you as you take another drag.

Something about the way your lips hug the cigarette makes his primal instincts start to kick in. Something inside him says, take her, make her yours and though Hanma always considered himself to thrive off of adrenaline, there is hesitancy in his actions. 

“Well, are we just going to stand around, or are you going to take me somewhere?” You ask, but it sounds like a threat.

"I don't know, you were quite late and I assume we don’t have all night," he shoots back.

You click your tongue putting out your cigarette at the bottom of your boot. “Well, this was just a waste of my time.”

With you now walking away, Hanma takes a chance at grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him. Both locked onto each other, he can feel an intensity that is far beyond anything else he could feel. And a warmth fills him with a mix of excitement and anticipation. He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger tilting your face up more so he can get a better look at you. You're breathless. Then he leans in his lips, barely hovering yours. 

“What are you --,” you say, pushing him away with your hands on his chest.

But can’t escape as his hands move to your hips, pulling you close to him. You can feel uncertainty in his actions, though it's only for a few seconds before he softly presses your lips to his. Both bodies ignite as they intertwine together. 

Pulling apart, you stare at each other for a moment in complete silence.

“You’re really pretty,” Hanma says, to which you respond by raising an eyebrow.

“You think sweet talk is going to get you further?” You say before pulling yourself out of his arms. “How about some ice cream?”

You walk towards the shops ahead all lit in neon signage. Hanma smiles at you and waits for a moment. Wondering if you’ll turn him down and give him shit for his impulsive actions. But you don’t, you turn around and wave him over with a smile. The first smile that’s ever melted his heart.

[stickyy]

Can I have a gn reader x Aizawa? Maybe a college AU where Aizawa doesn't know how to handle his crush because he was awkward when he was young and ended up a bully who was handsy. Thank you!

EEEE this is my first ask so i hope you like it anon! :D thanks so much for requesting!

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone or encourage any of the behavior outlined in the following text. this is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. :)

wordcount: 2299

warnings: dubcon, verbal abuse, slight dumbification, forced oral sex, brief mentions of gagging/vomit (doesn’t actually happen), aizawa is an law student asshole, quirkless!AU, ooc? more likely than u think

notes: im not like a writer so when i put this in word count and saw it was 2k words i gasped-

MIDTERM

Without a doubt, Aizawa’s the smartest student in your Civil Procedure lecture. You admire him; you’re both first years, but he already has an incredible work ethic and results to show for it. He works two part-time jobs to help pay for school (alongside his impressive scholarship), studies into the late hours of the night (mostly due to his being kept awake very loud roommate), and, despite a bad habit of regularly showing up to your 8 am class slightly hungover, still manages to produce the top marks in the class. 

You’re envious of him, because you’re the exact opposite. Your tuition is paid in full by your parents, you have a wonderfully quiet apartment all to yourself, and you study as best you know how, only to practically fail every assignment. You wish you could be surprised, but the material is a dreadfully bland concoction of boring procedure and esoteric theory that you rarely get further than three or four pages into a chapter. You want to like law, you really do, but there’s something about the intricacies of drafting lawsuits that goes in one ear and out the other. It’s no surprise that you sought out Aizawa’s help, desperate to at least pass the class with a decent grade. 

You wish you hadn’t. 

You don’t understand what you do that bothers him so deeply, but something about you coaxes cruelty from somewhere dark inside of him. You always scurry towards the back of the lecture hall to grab a seat next to him, doing your best to be quiet and unassuming, but he shoots you a venomous glare or a soft flurry of harsh words. And you get it, to an extent- some days you walk into class chattering a little too loudly on the phone, and on others you loudly shuffle around in your book bag to try finding the notes that you attempted to start for this lecture (if you even brought them that day). You know it’s annoying, but you also know you don’t deserve the downright verbal abuse he throws at you for it.

“It’s hard to take notes if you forget your textbook. Try being prepared for once,” he’ll sigh as he slides his textbook to you. Like a good student, he took notes for lecture the night before, but it still took some convincing for him to spare you his textbook.

“Do you ever shut up?” He’ll interrupt you as you babble about your difficulties understanding the most recent lecture. You want to retort, tell him off for being rude, but the words die in your throat; he radiates an annoying apathy that makes you doubt the efficacy of anything you say to him.

“You wouldn’t fail every assignment if you actually studied. Or maybe, you’re actually just stupid?” He’ll quip as you clutch your paper, a red ‘47’ scrawled in the upper corner of the page littered with your professor's critiques and question marks. By contrast, Aizawa’s paper is pristine, donning a singular red mark of ‘98, nice work!’.

With a well placed glare and the sour baritone of his voice, laced with exhaustion, it’s always enough to make your stomach drop from shame and embarrassment. Under normal circumstances, you’d never allow anyone to speak to you that way, but your grade was a dire situation, and with the midterm upcoming, you forcefully swallow your pride and ask him for his help.

You have to beg, but Aizawa agrees to tutor you the day before the midterm. This grade is a make or break for the class- if you do poorly on this exam, you’ll have to drop the lecture to salvage your gpa, putting you half a semester behind your peers. It’s motivation enough to deal with his poor attitude, and the two of you end up reviewing in an empty studying room on the top floor of the library. You began the session alert and determined to catch up, but studying with him shows you just how far behind you are. The textbook sounds like foreign poetry coming from his mouth; Aizawa is nothing short of eloquent when explaining the complexities of something as boring as filing lawsuits, and you spend most of the two hours spent just zoning out, completely unable to focus.

“You’re just wasting my time at this point.” The break in his cadence snaps you out of your trance, unfocused eyes meeting his tired ones, slightly lidded in annoyance, “Are you even trying to remember the material? Or are you just expecting me to spoon-feed it to you?”

Your throat catches, forcing you to swallow a lump as you attempt to ignore his words. 

“I am trying! I just don’t understand why there are two approaches, is all,” You whine, flipping back through your sparse notes to find the section that contained the explanation. 

“I went over that almost 3 chapters ago. If you were paying attention, you would’ve stopped me by now. It’s hard to believe that you even got into this school, if this is how you studied in high school. Did your daddy pull some strings with his buddies in admissions?”

Your eyes narrow, searching harder for the correct section in your notes. That’s a pretty low blow, and even if he’s not completely wrong, it still stings. You now know for a fact you didn’t even read this part of the text, but you keep your eyes trained on the page. At this point, you’d do anything to avoid looking at Aizawa, lest you begin to cry.

“Don’t be an asshole,” is all you can muster, voice shaking with unshed tears, “Would it kill you to be a little nicer? It’s hard to focus when all you do is insult me.”

“It’s hard to focus?” He repeats, his tone a sickly sweet mockery of yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s my fault. You’re a lot dumber than you think, if you even think at all. The midterm is tomorrow, and we’re just now getting into chapter five. Don’t get mad at me for actually trying to study; if I was holding your hand through it all, we’d still be on chapter one.”

Your vision blurs and a single tear hits the lined paper of your notes, causing the ink to blur as the drop absorbs into the page. You clench your jaw and take a breath before standing up, opening your backpack to put you things away. You didn’t have to take this abuse, you could study on your own. Even if you did poorly, you’d have some of your dignity left.

“It’s pretty rude to just walk out on someone trying to help you,” Aizawa says after a moment, closing his notes shut. “Not only do you give me a headache every single morning, but I try to tutor you and you want to leave without even thanking me? I’m busy, you know? I take time that I don’t have to spare just help your sorry ass out, for free, and you’re not even capable of learning anything from it.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and move to leave, but you find yourself face to face with Aizawa, his tall frame blocking the door, arms crossed over his chest, and a thoroughly disgusted expression plastered on his features. 

“I should charge you a fee, just for completely wasting an afternoon. Absolutely ridiculous,” His tone is a juxtaposition to his demeanor; he sounds more amused than annoyed, a jeer underlying the words. It makes you feel sick, and you’re suddenly grossly aware of the fact that you're alone with him, the only method of escape blocked. It feels dangerous, and you want nothing more than to be at home, alone and safe.

“H-how much?” You stutter meekly, eager to appease him. “I don’t really have any cash on me but if you have Venmo-”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Your heart starts to jackhammer against your ribcage and panic sets in. You’re frozen in place, unwilling to ask him to elaborate. You may not be very bright, but you have a good idea of what he’s going to ask for, and you can think of a million things you’d rather do instead.

“I know your pretty little skull is practically an echo chamber, so listen closely, okay? We both know that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be ready for the exam by the end of tonight, and I have to work in an hour and a half. So, if you behave and do what I ask you, I’ll let you copy my exam answers tomorrow. Understand?”

You’re silent, paralyzed by fear. A part of you wants to run, desperately, but your mind drifts to the midterm. You know that without any help, you’ll surely fail.

That’s how you end up on your knees in front of him, tears finally streaming down your face from choking on his thick cock. 

“That’s it,” he groans breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as his head presses back against the door, “I knew you were good for something. I bet this is how you convinced your other teachers to give you a passing grade, huh? A few cocks down your throat-fuck, to save your gpa, I wouldn’t put it past you, dumb slut.”

You hate this- hate being reduced to just a mouth for him to fuck. You hate how he sneers down at you, his eyes alight with sadistic pleasure. You especially hate the treacherous way your spine tingles and heat pools low in your stomach at his amused growls and degrading remarks. He’s just as cruel with the way he fucks into your mouth, disregarding your comfort entirely, hand in your hair roughly guiding your head over his length. He’s almost painfully thick, stretching your lips wide, tickling the recesses of your throat in a grotesque way. You try to wiggle away slightly, just to take a small breath; you’re beginning to feel dangerously lightheaded. You begin to pull your head away but he thrusts his hips upward, holding your head down and  forcing your lips to wrap around the base of his cock.

“S’okay, baby, just relax that empty little head of yours, no need to breathe right now,” he sighs, watching you struggle against him with a smirk, watching the fear bloom in your chest and your mind buzz with the lack of oxygen. Your thrashing shifts his cock in just the right way and you violently gag, eyes widening with the painful sensation. You’re almost convinced he’s going to let you pass out, right before he yanks you off of him. You cough violently, gagging a few more times, drool spilling out of your mouth.

“Throw up on me and a failing grade will be the least of your problems,” he growls, and the threat is a sobering reminder of how fucked up this is. You meet his expectant gaze, and reluctantly return to the task at hand. You can hold out just a little longer, you tell yourself; his hips are beginning to move on their own accord and you know he won’t last much longer. All you have to do is hang on and it will all be over soon.

You know that he’s just a bully, that you’re just doing what you have to do in order to pass this class, that you’re worth more than your grades, that you aren’t stupid- but the dark part of your mind questions if he’s right. Maybe you do belong on your knees, because what do you know? Maybe you are just a dumb slut; there’s no need to study if the only thing you’re good for is swallowing.

The shameful thought forces a new torrent of tears to pour from your eyes, gagging once more on both your tears and his cock, and the look of pure despair on your face pushes him over the edge. Aizawa yanks your head from his cock with a curse and you flinch as his hot cum hits your face. There’s a lot of it, the viscous seed slowly dripping down your face. The sensation is downright disgusting. You feel dirty and used, your throat sore, knees burning, lips swollen from his brutal assault. He presses the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing his load all over your skin with a cruel laugh.

Through your panting, you keep your eyes closed for a little bit, hoping that maybe this is an awful nightmare and you’ll wake up in your dorm, with an extra day to study and a little more hope in your heart. 

The sound of a camera shutter rips you from your fantasy, opening your eyes to see Aizawa grinning at his phone. You’re too shocked to say anything, only staring at him incredulously from your position on the floor in front of him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know?” He hums as he tidies himself up and grabs his bag. “So photogenic, I’ll be able to get off to this for weeks. Who knows what good you’d be if you were dumb and ugly.”

You didn’t notice that you had stopped crying, but the fresh tears and sound of your own sobs call your attention to fact.

“Try and clean up before you leave, alright? I know you’re a little too stupid to remember, but I don’t think it’d be a good look for you to walk around covered in cum.”

The door clicks closed, and through your sobs you look around at the room, only to notice that there aren’t any tissues left laying around. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

(But at least you get an A- on your midterm.)

[sly-merlin]

T h e      E n c h a n t e d      C a n v a s

Pairing :: doyoung x reader ft simmi and her moots

Word count :: ~4k

Genre :: Hogwarts soulmate strangers to ?? Fluff

Synopsis ::

Y/n , a muggle is called to Hogwarts not because of her exceptional talents but due to the fact that her soulmate is a pure/half blood studying in Hogwarts. Her destiny takes her from an average household to the enchanting world of spells and charms. Would she found the one she sought? or sh’d end up losing herself in the new world!

A/n :: this is a Christmas gift for lovely nini - @dvrlingrenjun​ under @neoculturechristmas​ event. Thank you admins for letting me talk to her. And nini!! I'd be happy if you enjoy this even a little bit. I hope you can get some time out from your responsibilities to relax and then we can cry over twice's beauty!! MERRY CHRISTMAS NINI.

With love ,

From simmi(stocking anon)

tagging :: lovely @danishmiilk​  ( warning :: donot expect too much) @astroboy-lele​ (oops! i opened discord and just remembered i was supposed to tag you furou! sowy)

networks :: @neowritingsnet​ @kafenetwork​ @nct-writers​ 

thank you aria @adamfoolcry​ for hyping me up!!!

"A MAGIC SCHOOL?DO I LOOK LIKE A FOOL TO YOU?" you screamed at your parents, their pleading eyes instantly making you guilty.

"Darling! That woman showed us what she's capable of. You can go and learn and it's not like you have much of an option." Your father said, caressing your arm.

They were right. The woman, who called herself the professor of Hogsy or something school, had explained to you the two tier unscripted path of your future. The first thing being that you were invited to study at an elite magic school, the evidence of which was provided by summoning your sketchbooks from your room. Second being, your soulmate was a boy of the magical community so you,inevitably, were a part of it and there was no escape from it. 

"I don't want to leave you alone!" Tears threatening to fall, you requested your parents. 

"Please sweetie. Don't make this harder than it already is. We do not have enough money to provide you with quality education. At least you are getting a chance to improve your life. Do not let this chance pass because of us. Besides it's like a boarding school. That lady did say you'd be visiting us twice a year and that too for two whole months! I see no harm sweetie. You possibly cannot refuse your soulmate right. They need you as much as you need them. So go and live your life. Make your parents proud!" 

Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry,

Year - third

"Then the battery is placed in this small compact space in a very specific way to make the clock work. This small cylindrical unit called battery has very complicated working so we'll discuss that next week. And this week,I won't be bothering you with any homework so go and enjoy. Have an enchanting day." Your professor dismissed the class with a brightening smile.

"Y/n" she called as you were packing your bag.

"Yes mam?" You asked her, hands respectfully crossed in front of your skirt.

"I just wanted to say thank you so much for the automated battery clock that you got. The ones we have are very old and it's a long and tiring process to ask for new ones. Do know how delighted i am to have you in my class. I'm glad you chose muggle studies as elective." She smiled at you and you bowed just a bit to show your gratitude and walked outside for your other classes.

Being a ravenclaw was all about wisdom, intellect, being sharp minded and laced with logic and creativity or this was what the book that prof McGonagall gave you read. The almighty sorting hat, the pillar on which walls of Hogwarts stood, had placed you in ravenclaw. Though the hat did contemplate between every single house, you ended up with ravenclaw. You believed neither in the semi-animate object nor the popular saying that Sorting hat knows you better than you do yourself for you failed to find your own kind. The smart ravenclaws were too bright for you. It didn't help that you were the only muggle in your year. You weren't able to keep up with them and if it haven't been for willy, your only friend in ravenclaw, you'd have ended up going home,without finding your destiny. Not that you were any better at the moment but life was fun with willy and aria, your hufflepuff friend. 

But nothing remains stationary right!

“How are you here already?” you questioned lazily.

“Arithmancy professor fell sick this morning. I've been free since then.” said Aria. You turned to William, who was busy toying with his alligator bracelet. “And you willy?” 

“Huh?” he mindlessly asked. 

“I asked, did you run away from divination again?” you repeated the question, changing the words to suit his ears. 

“Oh no! We just had a small accident in class today.” he giggled, his glasses falling off as he doubled over with laughter.

The potion classroom was soon jammed with third year fellows, all chatting in their own friend groups, enjoying the few minutes before they would be bombarded with over expectation of brewing a girding potion.  At the precise moment, the door was closed shut.

“STOP THE USELESS GOSSIP AND SPLIT INTO YOUR BREWING GROUPS. NOW!”

Prof. Snape thundered as all the students, without a second wasted, dispersed and settled. “Mr. brown.” he called a hufflepuff, “collect the ingredients and mr. kim, care to move yourself and help him.” he instructed two students who complied immediately. “Not that i expect any from you little incompetent students, you shall not prepare more than two vials of the potion or else i won’t hesitate to make you do your laundry in the same foul liquid. Understood!” his warning earned silent gagging from several students at the mention of the awful smell, of which you were not excluded. 

As you got busy in discussing the recipe, noise of shattering glass and a shrill cry pierced through your ears. Before you could raise your head to witness the happening, your left wrist burned as if it was set on fire. Knees buckling, you fell on the floor as sudden inflammation blocked your senses, heart wrenching screams leaving your throat.Your wailing alerted your friends as William instantly unbuttoned your sleeve to view the reason of your pain and gasped at the damage. 

“Prof. snape! Her soulmate mark is burning.” he shouted but your ears were too clogged due to choked sobs to feel the distress in his voice. You slowly opened your heavy eyelids as your wrist was pulled swiftly. With blurred vision, you saw prof. casting a spell,his wand releasing a blue light circling your mark which entered your wrist, momentarily soothing the pain. Your cries softened into tiny sniffles as the spell did it's work. You lifted yourself up with Willy's help while sloppily rubbing at the darkened spot. 

“Oh yes, it’d leave some itching and for the spot and further treatment, you need to immediately go to the hospital wing. Ms. y/l/n and mr. Kim, you both are excused and for your foolishness, 100 points from slytherin.” Upon his command, your head snapped towards the man standing across the room in dishevelled state,probably matching your own,his hand clutching his wrist, eyes holding your gaze.

“Out!” 

Nodding your head, you made your way out, the male following after you. 

Either you were too slow in your steps or he was too brisk, but he seemed to be way ahead of you. Gripping your tingling and heavy hand, you were tracing his path when a pair of shoes met your vision, halting you in the middle of the corridor. 

“It’s stinging y/n. We have to run!” and before you could reply, he was sprinting for the stairs, taking you with him.

“You both are in the same year?” the nurse asked, examining the burnt swans on your wrists. 

“Yes” you both replied in unison, eyes meeting for a second before you  averted your gazes. The head nurse noted something in her register before she went to extract some bandages and potions.

“is the skin still burning?" The nurse queried, taking doyoung's hand but he pulled his hand and pointed for you. 

"She's more hurt. Check her first please" he mumbled, noticing your incessant scratching and ragged breathing. She shook her head and proceeded with the treatment.

"Why were you playing with the potions?" She scolded Doyoung while applying the healing potion. 

"I wasn't!" Doyoung retorted as he straightened his back in defence. "It got spilled by mistake when I was finding seaho-RSES!" He screeched as the medicine stung.

"Seahorses are kept in see-through containers mr. Kim and don't you nincompoops know that golden marks are sensitive to heat. Why were you wearing a folded shirt in a potions class when clearly you were exposed t-

"The temperature madam!" Your eyes never left his face as you witnessed the misery he went through in the past few minutes and which you were going to experience in a few seconds. 

"Give me your hand miss y/n" 

The liquid ignited it again but as she massaged on it, the skin felt cooler than before and when she wrapped the white bandage, the sharp needles alleviated into cold jingling. You carefully glanced at doyoung through your peripheral vision only to find him staring at you with wide eyes. Saving yourself the humiliation, you tried to hide your face into your neck which only annoyed you further due to the wetness of your fresh tears mixing with sweaty moisture, creating what felt like a puddle but you endured it, calculating the weight of the outcomes.

"Do stop by every day for a change of bandage unless you want to live your whole life with black wrists which I clearly don't have any problem with kids!" She jested before leaving for her office. 

You stayed seated beside doyoung, the newfound soulmate, wondering if he was as nervous as you were. Fisting your clammy hands, you mustered all the courage you could, ready to introduce yourself but the greeting travelled back through your throat when he hopped off the hospital bed and departed without uttering anything. 

Your recently dried eyes were sprayed again with his callous action as millions thoughts ran through your throbbing head, heart constricting under the weight of silence. 

Did the man for whom you deserted the whole world for, rejected you?

"HE DID WHAT?" Aria hollered and looming forward, slamming her hands down on the table. At her reactions, you felt your own anger bubbling again but the disorder generated by the recent incident and William's reasoning, you stopped yourself from forming any conclusion.

"Will you calm down." 

"No willy, don't you want to rip that sly boy apart. How dare he! I’m going to- wait you told him before me! That's not fare." She whined, diverting her own attention.

“stop shouting aria. Let people eat in silence. An-and we don't know why he left. It could be--maybe he wanted to use the washroom or he wanted to hide his pai-

"Stop defending him willy or I'll pour this porridge over your head" willy pouted at her remark and slided down his chair to avoid her.

"Stop bickering and tell me what should i be doing now! I have a soulmate for god's sake!"

You had finally found the reason for your presence in the castle, your soulmate, kim doyoung and you didn’t know how to proceed.

"I guess wait y/n and at least you were saved from the awful odour of the gird today. Sicheng almost fainted in front of professor but that was a hilarious sight girl. You missed it" you saw rolling her eyes at the mention and you mirrored her reaction,resting your head on the table as Willy's ironic statement only intensified the pounding.

Wait! But for how long?

"YOUR FROG BRAIN DID WHAT?" Simmi jumped off the bed to face doyoung, her hand reaching for the transfiguration book.

"I-i- i got nervous!" He whined and cringed at his pathetic excuse. He was busy folding and unfolding his poor ear,apparently in nervousness, when his best friend thwacked his bicep with the heavy book.

He cried out loud, grasping his arm with one hand, “do you want to die!” he glowered at her. 

“How could you miss your soulmate when she was right there in front of you for two years." She said before working on his arm again. 

“I’m not the only one! She also missed me.” he reasoned, holding his hands up in refuge from her neverending attacks. “Wait!” he exclaimed, pondering over his words. “How could she not know I was her soulmate when almost everyone knows I've got a gold swan embroidered.” his face fell in despondency and the horrible and hurried conclusion his thoughts took him to. “Simmi what if she- what if she never wanted to find me and that-

“Merlin’s beard shut yourself up and mail your family. They need to know their baby boy is all grown up now!”

He nodded in acknowledgement of the suggestion but his wandering mind refused to rest until he was sure of his qualms. 

Maybe he should wait! But for how long?

My love was sleeping, but there was fragrance in the air

Doyoung roamed around in circles, his heart unevenly drumming, body so warm under the strain of muddled thoughts that the moisture was seeping through the bandage. The response of his parents, lying on his bed in the form of a letter, had relieved him of the worries of any prospective opposition. Not that he didn’t know his family, he wasn't too convinced how their family would address the sudden revelation of his soulmate being a muggle. You were going to be the first muggle in his family and the first ravenclaw after his great grandmother. The first line of the letter “we are elated to know that your soulmate is a human and not your piano” had eased him for the remaining part. Now that the dragon was out of the dungeon, the subsequent troubles were giving him splitting migrains. 

In the past week, he had tried to approach you after a painful shove from taeyong and simmi but he had to retreat due to your very malevolent comrades. The mental conversations he had with you continued to be in the confines of his head but nothing arrested him from searching for you in the crowds. You had always been there, in the same classes, in the great hall, in the corridors but you were nowhere when his eyes sought you. Just a week has passed and he found himself getting more and more conscious of your presence. He wanted to hijack and become a part of your convivial life yet he lacked the needed courage. 

So he resorted to wearying his legs by moving around. Maybe Some blood rush from his branches to brain would give him some clarity.

By degrees, the thumping of his spirit corresponded to the swooshing of the sea creatures.

He might have been too young to fall in true love but slowly, he knew, he was falling for that little golden swan.

Hidden from the rest, you were completing your assignment when the chair besides you was drawn out. You raised your head with the intention of getting the chair vacated for your friends but watching the Kim doyoung occupying the seat, you shot up instantly,ready for your escape. Fumbling with the ink and books, you whirled around only to be stopped by the boy.

 You glanced at him for a moment before pulling your hand ,which he was tugging at , back. 

"Stay. Your friends won't be coming today. I won't say anything. Please" he requested with his doe eyes looking up in a hope to catch yours. 

Wordlessly, you sat down.

He kept his promise. 

No word was spoken that day or the next day or the next week. 

The intense silence that engulfed you that day soon morphed into a tranquil one. The one of the familiarity, of the silent exchanges and of the growing unbreathed bond.

By the end of the month, the green leaves sacrificed themselves for the birth of fiery red ones as the days became shorter, the sun became mischievous and the gold on your wrists started gleaming more than ever.

One month later 

“Gamps’ law of transformation? Didn’t we read it last year?” doyoung asked perplexedly, taking the reins of the conversation, again.

“Prof. told me to prepare an assignment which would be used for the younger students.” you replied sheepishly, dipping the quill in the ink. 

“Pure ravenclaw” he muttered, looking lovingly at you. These days, he did it more often than he could count. He wanted to say more but the fear of your refusal always held him back.

“Not so much” 

you heard his muttering! He wanted to pry further but saved it for a later discussion. 

He shifted himself towards his own chair and worked on his sheet as the ticking of the grandfather clocks muddled with scratching of the quills filled the empty corner. 

It wasn't home but it certainly felt like one!

Two months later

“Give us our y/n back” aria whisper yelled to taeyong.

“She’s doyoung’s soulmate, doyoung is my best friend hence she is my best friend as well.” taeyong retorted, dramatically flaring his nostrils. 

“Don’t forget we live at the same place taeyong and simmi won’t be there to save you baboon face.” amused smiles adorned everyone’s faces as they saw both of them quarelling. Some things were always constant. 

You sipped on your hot chocolate that warmed you up as you and doyoung went through the revision for the last exam. Without being asked, he helped you with his encyclopedic knowledge. you were grateful for his assistance but never said anything for you felt like the feather silence between you was too delicate to breach. 

So you spoke through your eyes.

And he never failed to hear you.

Wrapping the scarf around your neck, you sprinted for the dining hall, tightly holding onto the white chocolates tightly. 

At the end of the hallway, you saw another figure running over in the same state as you.

“Did you get shorter?” he said, grinning ear to ear. Glancing up at him, you scanned through his features, in case you had forgotten in the christmas holidays. 

“This is for you!” you both said simultaneously, extending your hands

“Open it for me!” you requested.

Under the emerald covering was an elegant and vintage fountain pen, engraved and decorated with turquoise stones. “This is so beautiful.” you told him before taking it from him. You traced over the name kim carved onto the nib of the pen. You raised your brows in question to which he responded quickly , “it’s my great grandma’s. This is your Christmas gift from the Kim family. I know it’s small but you are invi-

“It’s precious. You are giving me a family heirloom when all i got are some homemade milk chocolates for you.” your smile faded as you avoided his sight.

“How did you know white chocolates are my favourite?” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly.

“Mom said you’d l-

Before you could complete your sentence, he prised the chocolate box out of your grip, sprinting for the great hall.

“OH KIM DOYOUNG! GIVE ME MY SHARE!” 

YEAR - FOURTH

“Why are you always so quiet?” 

“I’m never!” you defended yourself. 

Doyoung didn’t know why he was talking about it now and here, out of all places, in front of whomping willow.

“Tell me!” he pressed.

“I talk to a few and it’s enough.”

“Do you know you are intimidating?” you raised your chin to scrutinise the sincerity in his words.

“I am not!” 

“To those you don’t know you, you radiate passive energy. My slytherin friends wanted to introduce themselves but they got scared and ran away. Honestly, i was also a bit-

He trailed off, slouching on the bench as your eyes bored into his. His head hung low in apology for he knew, he must've crossed the line but for the first time, you decided to show him your dauntless side.

“Hogwarts did that to me.” you said, wearily. “I was happy with my parents, drawing and colouring in my art books when suddenly i was told that i’ve been living in a wrong way. That there is a secret magical place where i have a soulmate. I was angry because i had to leave everything behind. And then i was sorted into ravenclaw. And i was distorted when i found out that i wasn't smart enough for them. I couldn't solve the riddles! William was the one who showed me how to do it properly. It felt awful knowing that the only place that was supposed to be my home for next seven years wasn't the place where i belonged to.” you spoke calmly but doyoung felt your distress and let you continue without any interruptions. 

“I was an eleven year old. I never wanted to fend for myself in a place full of strangers. I -i imagined my life to be a canvas full of colours that i wanted to design for myself. The borders, the paint, the drawing, i wanted to design it for me. But then an owl screeched and i felt like someone had shortened my canvas and after all these years, i feel it’s completely disappearing.” it sounded like someone snatched the life out of your voice. But your visage remained soft, drawing doyoung in. 

“So you like art.” he asked with curiosity. 

“Yes. i love art.” you said, eyes fixed at the movements of the branches of whomping willow.

“Can you please teach me?” he urged and within a second , the air filled with the fragrance of your happiness.

“ why wouldn’t I. what do you wanna do in future doyong? Aria wants to arithmancer, william would be a healer and sicheng, he would be a star quidditch player.”

“I don't want to worry about it right now. Let’s just live in today.” he answered back, smile gracing his lips at the thought of a future with you.

You both relished each other’s company until the temperature froze the both of you.

Removing a  snowflake from your lashes, he made a promise to himself that he’d help you find something that’d put ice on all the bitter memories you had. 

YEAR - FIFTH

THE GREAT HALL

 “Doyoung’s got a howler!” yuta and simmi fist bumped each other, already too excited for the letter to be opened. Of all the howlers they have received, doyoung and yuta’s were record establishing and they expected mrs. kim to maintain the status quo this time as well.

The howler jumped in the air and as the seal opened, doyoung’s heart dropped at the voice. It was not from his mother but his sister and it shouted humiliation, if he was being polite towards her. 

“MS. Y/N!” 

You choked on the juice as you heard your name. 

“MY DEAR TO-BE-SISTER-IN-LAW, HELLO! I’M IVET, THAT DENSE DUDE’S LITTLE SISTER. MUM HAS SENT YOU SOME ART SUPPLIES AND SHE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU COULD PAINT HER SOMETHING TO DECORATE THE EMPTY WALL IN HER ROOM. SHE’D BE DELIGHTED AND IF YOU GET TIME,PLEASE DRAW SOMETHING FOR ME TOO. AND DOYIE BRO! BRING ME CHOCOLATE FROGS FROM THE TRAIN! SHOP FROGS DOESN'T TASTE THE SAME. FORGET THIS TIME AND I’D MAKE SURE YOU REGRET YOUR EXISTENCE. I hope we can meet soon ms. y/n. By.”

The howler exploded and so did the whole room. Several snorts, chuckles, happy curses were exchanged as doyoung lowered himself under the table to avoid the shame. 

You checked your paint supplies attached with the howler and as your lips curved up, he knew what he was going to pursue in his life. 

Your happiness and immortality.

When i found you, there was magic 

“Mr. kim if you wish to ogle at ms.y/l/n instead of paying attention to my words then i’d suggest please fail your o.w.l.s so i don’t have to face your affection filled face from next year.” prof snape growled, throwing the head of vial on doyoung’s face. 

He was going to fail potions, you thought gesturing him to apologise.

“And 20 points from slytherin and 10 points from ravenclaw!” you both ducked your heads in an instant, forcing a poker face to save yourself from further trouble.

When i found you, rain smelled good

YEAR - SIXTH

When i found you, desires awakened

“No simmi! This is a slytherin dungeon. I cannot go inside!” you warned simmi, who, all of a sudden was adamant on showing you her room, at midnight. 

“I love you but please don’t call this a dungeon.” she held out her hand before you could correct her. “Yes i know this is practically a dungeon but we call it seascape.  Close your ears, you don’t wanna hear the password. You nodded, palming your ears.

“Yutaisthegreatestbeingintheworld” you snickered as she recited the words.

“Our prefect is a dung brain so please excuse.”

Door opened to darkness but a dim light slowly floated towards you as you walked inside “Nox”  your wand rose high up in the air. You made out doyoung’s figure and before you could calculate, the whole room resonated with a syncless birthday song.

And you knew, you were enthralled by this boy.

You heard my prayers, you answered my heart’s call

“I love you aria. Would you give me the honour of being the snitch of your life?” sicheng, aria’s ravenclaw soulmate confessed to her with a promise ring. 

“The ice prince finally melted!” You and william, hands joined, jumped in joy as you watched aria’s eyes glistened with glee.

You rushed upstairs to find doyoung as you forsaw the end of your wait.

Panting heavily, you dragged doyoung out of prof’s room, his step gracefully flowing with yours in a instant.

“What are yo-

“What do you smell in amortentia?” you stopped abruptly and asked him, gasping for air.

“Wh-a-t” he giggled nervously, his hand patting his chest to control his own breathing. “What has gotten ov-

“Answer me kim doyoung.” you whispered, strictly.

He was quiet but you understood the stillness of his heart veiled by the thumping and you felt him losing his composure when his hands cupped your face, 

"I-i smelled white chocolate, lovely lillies-

"Hurry up Kim." You hit his chest with your fist with requirement of the answer.

He chuckled, his bunny teeth enlightening his chiselled face while he looked at you like you were something special to him and you no more just wanted to feel it. You wanted him to say it, express it like he did when he read the poetry from your book or like the random scribbles on his notebooks. You wanted him to move on from the shy glances and profess that you were his and he was yours. 

he licked his lips as he gulped harshly before continuing,

"And you. You-your hair. Your lavender scent. Your innocence. Your d-dreams. Your colours. Your paints yo-

Pulling him by his tie, you placed your lips on his soft ones, leaving them with a smack. His hands wrapped around your waist to embrace you in the warmest hug you'd ever received from a loved one. As your head laid on his chest, you heard his heartbeat for the first time, making you feel closer to him than ever. 

"How would i ever requite your love Kim doyoung" you asked, closing your eyes.

"Maybe a portrait would do!" 

Kim doyoung became the canvas of your life,giving you the liberty to paint him in your colours and  your love and you became the smudged ink to his enchanted diary, without whom he would've failed to fill the pages.

You'd grow old but the swans born out of you would tell the stories of the years gone by.

[koutarouthighs]

『 strawberries & wicker baskets 』

S U M M A R Y ― sunny afternoons call for a basket filled to the brim with fruits and other treats, your lover across the blanket, sighing as they take in the sight of you with your skin glittering under the sun.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ kuroo ⧾ akaashi ⧾ sugawara  genre➺ fluff tags/warnings ➺ established relationship ; alcohol mention ;  word count ➺ 1.9k+ request ➺ [YES/NO]     ↳ request status: *.·:·.✧ O P E N ✧.·:·.*

⤭ kuroo enjoys getting outside now and again because his job can be very much a shut-in, indoor-only occupation. whether he’s going from arena to arena, or spending days behind a desk answering emails, he is stuck inside much more than he’s allowed outside. ⤭ he’ll set up the entire thing with no prompting. kuroo is a big dork, after all, and he loves to surprise you with some romantic gesture, such as an intricate picnic packed safely away in a large brown, woven basket, the neck of a bottle of wine peeking out.  ⤭ depending on how stressed you both are, kuroo will sometimes have it be a surprise. he’ll call your boss, get you the afternoon or weekend off of work, and manage to corral you into heading to the park or the beach or the lake with him. ⤭ kuroo is so ecstatic to get you out on the green with him that he forgets napkins and you end up having to use the checkered blanket to wipe off your fingers after tetsurou has offered to suck the strawberry sugar off your digits.  ⤭ the warmth cascading down from the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees is nothing in comparison to the absolute beaming light from kuroo’s smile as he looks down at you, where you lay on the blanket. there is not a moment where you are not completely, utterly loved in the presence of kuroo tetsurou. 

more below the cut ↴

your pinkies are linked as you stroll through the sand, heels dug into the beach when you find your perfect spot. kuroo is yanked by your fingers circling his wrist, eyes widening a hair as he swivels to turn and look at you, “here? this is the spot?”

you don’t even have to nod, he already knows your answer. you wouldn’t have stopped him otherwise. so he works at getting the blanket laid out perfectly so there aren’t any annoying granules of sand getting in your food or underneath your clothes. he strategically lays out your shoes, one on each corner, so the blanket won’t go flying at the first signs of blustering winds.

the beach brings serenity and clarity, both of which you disturb with loud laughter and busied hands. your giggles are interrupted by wine-drunken kisses, warm and wet and reminding you much of the ocean. the spray from the waves salts your hair and your face, but you don’t mind. not when you get to spend these careless moments with your lover. 

“i’ve missed you,” he sighs, framing your cheek with a large palm, encompassing your skin with a near unbearable heat. skin flushed, you lean into his touch, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you hum, “i’ve missed you more.”

“there you go again,” he near growls, playfully smirking up at you as he rolls his hips to pin you down, knees on either side of your body so he can hover over you, blocking the sun like the clouds in the sky. “always have to one up me, baby, can’t you ever let me win?”

you reach up to squeeze his cheeks in your grip, playing with the looser skin near the center of his face, smushing his lips together playfully. you shake your head, rolling your eyes dramatically, “if i stop challenging you, you’ll get bored of me.”

his words are garbled thanks to your pressured palms, but he manages to husk out regardless: “i’d never get bored of you.”

⤭ you are the one to set up the picnic, knowing that akaashi will spend all day and all night working on his publishing duties. sometimes it is up to you to drag him out of the work-filled abyss that blackens his days and elongates his nights. ⤭ he has dark circles under his eyes and he’s always sleeping in on the weekends when he gets a chance, so you spend the time in the morning one saturday packaging up a wonderful feast. fruits, sandwiches, champagne, all tucked away into a sweet little basket that you can barely hold up on your own. ⤭ akaashi wakes up and you’ve already got his pot of coffee put together, but you hold his cup hostage when he reaches out for it. his brow wrinkles and his eyes narrow, but all you can do is chuckle when you tell him to get ready, that the two of you are going out.  ⤭ once he’s had two cups of coffee and a shower, akaashi does not hesitate to stroll down the sidewalk with you, the basket in one hand and your palms linked in the other. he’s warm, inviting, and he’s always playing with the soft skin of your hand with his thumb, calloused pad drifting back and forth. ⤭ it’s nice for him to be able to take some time away from manuscripts and plotlines, to be able to enjoy the time alone with you. he’s a people watcher, and together you make up funny stories for all of the families and couples making their way through the park. after you’ve eaten, when you’re laying back and staring up at the clouds, he’ll tuck you under his arm and point out the shapes that remind him of anything significant.

﹢

“don’t you think that one looks like an owl,” he points to a cloud to the left, drifting through the air and dissipating more with each passing second. you laugh, pressing your cheek against his collarbone as your arm winds around his waist, “you think everything looks like an owl, kei. i think you miss bokuto.”

akaashi scoffs, resting his palm back against your shoulders to anchor you to him, “all of fukurodani remind me of owls, sweetheart, not just koutarou.”

“it’s the writer in you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw nearest his ear, “always making an analogy out of something.”

he leans down, narrowing the space between your faces, and runs his nose against your cheek, “you have too much faith in me, darling.” you nip at the thin skin of his jaw, hitching your knee up slightly to rest on his thigh, the thick of it rippling at the sudden movement, “that would imply i believe without seeing, keiji. i’ve seen plenty of your talents.”

even though akaashi is not one for public displays of affection, he finds in this moment alone with you in the middle of a meadow, he is insatiable. his mouth finds yours and you taste of peaches and champagne, sweet but bitter, and he falls a little more in love with you then.

“i love you too,” you whisper, reading his mind and seeping into his bones with your burning touch, eyelids flittering, unwilling to open and break apart the serenity of your kiss.

the bow of your lips meet his and he swears your handprint is seared into his heart, strings tied tightly and begging for you to play him like a fiddle. 

⤭ sugawara has picnics with his kindergarteners, he likes to take them outside for lunch at least once a month, if not more frequently. you’ve brought him his lunch to school at least once or twice and caught him mid teddy bear picnic, his bento box in your hand and a grin on your lips as he helps the youngest student tuck her napkin cloth into the front of her shirt. ⤭ it gives you the idea to create a picnic scenario of your own, only instead of on the playground underneath the shade tree, it is in the comfort of your own backyard as the sun goes down. ⤭ koushi is surprised to find you rushing in from the screen door that leads to the backyard when he comes home one evening, a late night after working on a new set of curriculum. he chuckles as he toes off his work shoes and finds the more comfortable house slippers to slide his feet into. ⤭ you grab him by the hand, eager to show him your masterpiece. he’s always been so kind and understanding, so easily excited by your innocence and wonder at the world. it reminds him of the wide eyes of his students, begging to soak in every word he speaks until they are gorging with information. ⤭ the way you bob on the balls of your feet makes him chuckle, his knuckles finding yours so he can slot your fingers together to the base. he squeezes before he turns his attention to the scene you’ve set before him.

﹢

“wow, love, this is-” his voice sticks in his throat, emotion overwhelming him after a long day at work, body begging to come home to you. you pull yourself closer to him, like a tether, a kite desperately trying to keep to it’s owner.

there is a spread near the firepit, a warm blanket laid flat with a plethora of food and drinks scattered across the entirety of it. he reaches around your shoulders to tug you into his chest, nose finding the crown of your head to bury his face into you, breathing in your familiarity. he realizes for what would feel like the infinite time that he is blessed with your saccharine presence, something he swears he’ll never take for granted. 

“d-do you like it?”

your voice comes timid, bashful. sugawara is quick to admonish you for your insecurities, tilting your chin up with the gentle tug of his thumb and index finger, and capturing your wavering tongue with his soft mouth. 

even when he peels away, you chase him, caring predator and cunning prey. your fingers wrap around the front of his shirt, begging him closer with a quiet touch. he smiles at your enthusiasm, relishing in the moment where you forget about everything else going on in the world but him.

sugawara places another kiss to your upper lip, gently guiding you to the blanket, “i love it, darling. of course i do. i’d love anything you do.”

you know he is not lying, not by the conviction in his tone and the searching in his touch. you lower yourselves to a crossed-leg position, close enough that your knees brush, and you begin to dig into every container set before you. even though you know what is splayed out, it is still a mystery as he unlocks the tops of the tupperware containers to display the treasures inside.

“i love you, kou,” you whisper after a glass too many of wine, but the words are honest all the same, regardless of the alcohol they’re tainted with. you grin lazily up at him, palm finding his pectoral as you seek his heat, “i hope you know how much i love you.”

sugawara brushes his fingers against your forehead, pushing away the hair that obscures your vision so he can see you in all of your glory, “only if you promise to know how much i love you.”

a giggle, like a champagne bubble rising to the surface only to pop when it gets too close to the sun, breaks the seam of your lips and you tuck your head underneath his chin to hide. sugawara draws you close, circling an arm around your waist until you are molded to his side, as if there were never even two people present at all. one soul inhabiting two bodies, stitched together by time and trials alike.

“i guess,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing a warm kiss there before turning his head to watch the sunset, “that just means we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives trying to prove it.”