#but this way hopefully you guys can check up on the status of your requests!

[cultofdixon]

Fight for Yourself, Fight for Me

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • They/Them Pronouns • You were always going to be your father’s little archer…even when all the responsibility for several lives rest on your shoulders • ANGST/SFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares / PTSD / Scars / Canon Violence / Illness / Injuries / SH Scars / Depression

Requested by: Anon

“Look at that” Lori smiles pointing out to Daryl the way Carl was trailing his kid around the campsite. “What yea think they’re talking about?”

“Anythin’ but the hell going on”

Y/N has always been like that. Talk about anything else BUT what was happening around them. To give people a sense of normalcy back but also for the kids.

“Wait so Batman has like. No superpowers at all? Just that his parents died and now he seeks revenge?”

“I wouldn’t really call it revenge. He never uses a gun. Never kills. Uses his gadgets to catch the bad guy and like. Shakes them down until they spoke” Y/N continues as they loaded up their hunting rifle which on cue made Daryl whistle for them. “Should find you some comics. Doubt it’ll be batman but hopefully something interesting”

Carl was about to ask them more when they started to head toward Daryl and Lori causing him to sprint over.

“Where are you going?”

“Y/N is going hunting with their dad. They’ll be back in a few days”

“Can I go?”

“No Carl. You need to stay here. Where it’s safe”

“But they get to go! They’re a kid—-“

“They are eighteen.” Daryl hands them back their pack as Carl continued to glare slightly. “They are my kid. But an adult to yea”

Y/N couldn’t help but notice the kid’s eagerness to go with them resulting in Daryl growing impatient.

“Y/N we gotta—-“

“I’ll meet yea by the tents, old man” Y/N states hearing him grumble as he left. “Carl you can’t come. Cuz you’ve got an important job here”

“What is it?”

“Hold down the fort. Dad and I are gonna get food, and the Atlanta group is out. Leaving only a few to keep an eye on everybody. Can I trust yea to keep the house afloat?”

Carl nods smiling as Y/N ruffles up his hair smiling themselves.

“Good. Be back in a few days, buddy”

It’s been two so far since they left to track down the deer Daryl had spotted tracks for a bit ago. Y/N followed shortly behind their father staring at their feet for the most part since it’s been a bit with no signs of the deer. They suddenly ran into Daryl when he stood still for a moment catching them off guard.

“I’m not playing statue in the middle of the woods, dad…”

“Did yea want a sibling?”

“That’s random” Y/N scoffs, stepping ahead of him to ready their aim and take the shot on the squirrel. “But no. I like being an only child…would’ve wanted more time with mom though”

“Mm. Me too, kid” Daryl watches their surrounding so they could pick up their catch. “You’re close with that Grimes kid”

“I wouldn’t really say talking about superheroes makes us close”

“You used to only talk to me about superheroes”

“Are you jealous of a child?” Y/N laughs a bit, even more when their dad groaned to the question.

“Nah. Just.” Daryl shrugs kneeling to check the faint tracks to see how long it’s been. “Little shit looks up to yea is all. Don’t want that going to your head”

“I don’t think it will…?”

“Listen. I don’t mean like what the cop is having. The savior complex shit. I’m talking the toll that raising kids can have on somebody” He admits as he picks himself up continuing to follow the tracks with his kid shortly behind him. “You care a lot. You’ve always have been that way…even for people who don’t deserve it. Like Uncle Merle. But I don’t want yea to forget about yourself. How you’re feeling will always matter, kid. I don’t want something terrible happening to make you forget that”

Y/N didn’t know what to reply to that with, but Daryl knew that they understood the best that they can.

Even when he watched their kid grow protective of the youngest Grimes. Then the youngest Greene.

He doesn’t want to lose them, or want them to lose themselves…

“Let’s go hunt” Daryl gestures with his eyes to outside the house the group was currently staying in after the barn burned. “We’ll be back soon”

“Can I come?” Carl tugs at Y/N’s jacket as they quickly shot it down with a new reason of having to keep an eye on his mother for her and the baby’s safety. They managed to get him to listen by giving him tasks that keep him there.

As they were heading out, Rick stopped Daryl talking to him about scavenging places as well as finding whatever meat they can get their hands on. He even tried to join them but Daryl drew his line clearly. He wanted to be alone with his kid, without any more drastic changes.

“I think Andrea could still be alive”

“Maybe” Y/N kicks a door open to one of the abandoned houses in their neighborhood. “She did almost kill you so, I’d let her back in but not with open arms”

“I’m still standing aren’t I?”

“She also gave a knife to Beth when she was thinking of killing herself.” They instantly went toward the kitchen to find any canned foods. “Might have to knock some sense into that son of a bitch before letting her back in. Hell. Not even my decision…everybody following Rick…”

“You’re allowed to share your thoughts, Y/N”

Y/N’s body tensed hearing such as they felt like anything they would say to Rick wouldn’t get anywhere. He and Daryl are one and the same when it comes to protecting their blood…but Rick making all the decisions made it hard to think for oneself.

“Rick won’t listen. He’s just protecting his kid”

“You’re protecting his kid and wife more than he is. You have them your blanket, your extra rations,…hell, saved that kid from walkers more than he did.” Daryl frowns watching Y/N take all the cans they can carry. “I’m looking out for yea, Y/N. I don’t want to lose my kid to somebody else’s short comings…”

“You’re not gonna lose me…I just wish things were different”

I just wish things were different

Y/N frowns watching Maggie stumble out of the prison in tears with a small baby in her embrace. They noticed Carl’s frozen state when he stepped out and how Rick fell apart upon hearing the news of his wife dying. They slowly approached the kid as he looks up at them with a blank expression that suddenly turned to silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

“C’mere kid” Y/N brought Carl into their embrace comforting him the best that they could. All he wanted was to cry for a moment in the comforts of someone who he knows he’ll be safe with.

Their dad’s declare about “not losing another” made everyone act on such. Daryl left with Maggie to get formula for the baby, Hershel checked her out with the help of Beth, the rest of the group took care of investigating the rest of the prison. Leaving Y/N to take care of Carl while Rick was indisposed.

“What was it like for you…”

“What?”

“When your mom died…”

Losing a parent tends to always feel like it just happened yesterday. Even if Y/N was ten when they lost her.

But for context.

Y/N wasn’t a mistake. Or planned really. Daryl hit it off with their mom who was a total stranger he met and asked out one day. First date hit it off to where the slim chance of getting pregnant did indeed happen. He was scared, of course. Didn’t want to be like his father. Didn’t want to be in the bullshit he’s in with Merle with a baby around. But she was ever so kind and patient that the 9 months they had gotten to know one another.

Then life slowly became all about Y/N and both of them were happy on such. Even Merle cleaned up most of his act to be able to spend time with the little one.

Their life was perfect in its own special way. Didn’t need much of anything besides their family.

Missing field trips meant spending time with Daryl at the garage he worked at

Weekends were always a new adventure to anywhere

Bad days were always met with cuddles from their mother

Bullies never bothered to mess with them when Uncle Merle was the one to pick up the kid

The list could go on…and last about ten years. One day Y/N was sat at the couch by both of their parents having a talk about what it means when someone gets really sick. Again, they were ten. Old enough to understand what being sick means, but still young enough to not believe that their mother was sick and one day wasn’t going to come home.

It was sudden. She just. Never came home. The only thing that came home were her belongings and a broken Daryl.

I can never forget the look in my dad’s eyes when he tried so hard to tell me without breaking Y/N frowns looking at Carl with their own pain resurfacing to that question. “One day she was here. The next…she was gone. It’s been years but I’ll always be sad about it. Your mom meant the world to you…the pain will be awful at first, but as life goes on, you’ll always remember the good things you had with your mom. That’s all that matters”

To be frank. Y/N never wanted to become a parent, and in the apocalypse that confirmed matters. They didn’t want to raise a child in a world that they could die at any given moment compared to the old world. Hell. They were still a kid in Daryl’s eyes, always…so when Lori died, this switch in them flipped and all that mattered…was making sure her kids were safe. Taken care of. Loved.

“Y/N coming back today?”

Daryl nods looking up at Carol and her offering of food she has just prepared. He’s been waiting at their spot all morning and was relieved none of the spawn came around to take their attention away. But he thought too soon on the matter when Carl came running over.

“They back yet?”

“Nope. Just waiting” Carol smiles noticing Daryl tense expression. “Hey, how about we go find that favorite blanket of theirs and get it to their watchtower?”

“But I—-“

“Come on. You know they’ll appreciate it more coming from you” Carol smiles directing Carl out of there which relaxed Daryl enough to have a good mood when seeing Y/N’s bike approach the gate and the Woodbury folks took care of opening it to let them in.

As Daryl got up from his spot, Y/N rolls up next to his bike putting the kickstand down before getting off and hugging their dad when he draws close.

“Run into Michonne?”

“Yeah, brought back some of the shit she found along with my findings” Y/N smiles setting their pack down on the bench he was sitting on previously to show him what they’ve got.

“You’re really spoiling them kids” Daryl laughs a bit finding things like books, comics for Carl, formula and baby blankets for Judith, a few clothes for Beth…at least they got canned foods amongst other things that benefit others. “Did yea find what yea needed?”

“No, but it’s cool” Y/N picked up their pack once more to carry it all inside. “There’s also arrows on the back of the bike” and with that last note they went to put everything away and give such to whoever they went out in the run for.

Soon Y/N found themselves on the top bunk of their place trying to rest as Beth laid on the bottom one reading one of her books keeping company.

“How’s Uhm. What’s his face?”

“Zach? We aren’t anythin’” Beth says in a hush whisper in mind of the baby sleeping in its makeshift cradle that was a laundry basket. “I don’t think he notices me”

“I wouldn’t wait for him to make a move. You really like the guy? Just be honest. Honesty doesn’t hurt” Y/N states as Beth rises from her place in the bunk closing the book a bit too loudly making the resident on the top bunk tense.

“Yknow what! Imma do it”

As Beth leaves, Judith started to sob from her spot making the exhausted Y/N rise from their bunk jumping down to the floor before picking up the little baby. They picked up the little baby sitting on the floor leaning against the bunk beds gently rocking the littlest Grimes.

Daryl went to check on them after giving them some time after returning. He stops at the gates finding Judith asleep on their chest as they were also fast asleep with their head back on the bed.

“Someone’s gotta take care of yea” He whispers taking the little baby from them returning the sleeping baby into the basket before carefully picking up his baby and laying them down in the bunk.

It’s been this way for months. Y/N taking trips out and returning with things everybody else needs or ask of them to get. But ultimately forgetting themselves in the mix. And especially the way they are protective over “their” kids that when the illness came through…Rick had carried their passed-out sick form to the cellblock.

When Daryl came back he heard about Y/N and haven’t left their side while they rested. He kept everyone out of their quarantine cell. Wouldn’t let anyone see them because they put everyone else above themselves and granted he should’ve done something sooner about it…but others hardly noticed their struggling.

“Yea ain’t allowed to die. Fuckin’ won’t have it. Told yea that when yer mom died.” Daryl frowns squeezing their hand hearing his heart pound in his ears making him stress even more. “Lost her, lost Merle, you ain’t following them”

It was weird that Y/N wasn’t waking up instantly like the others when the medicine has been in their system for a while. But they were exhausted.

Even when the prison fell around them.

No dad. No kids. No anybody. Y/N woke up to nothing but injuries of the fallen debris. Nothing too concerning but enough to frustrate their tired form as they crawled out of the rubble and to the surface of their collapsed cell block finding dead people and walkers.

Dad…

Carl…

Beth…

Judith…

It kept repeating in their head when they managed to get out of the infested area with the little belongings they scavenged.

Y/N felt like they were walking for days with no end. They saw the signs for Terminus and thought about heading that direction but if shit went south they had virtually nothing to protect themselves or anyone who joined along the way. They eventually found themselves in an abandoned house curled up in a corner listening to the sounds of nature and the rapid beating of their heart.

What if I don’t find anyone

Did I just lose my remaining family to an attack

They could be dead

Where’s Carl

Hopefully the kids are safe

They could be dead

Hershel’s remains were in the field…where’s Maggie and Beth

Who the hell got Judith

Where is my dad?

They could be dead

They could be dead

They could be dead

The panic settles in and before the scream ripped out of their chest out of frustration, exhaustion, depression…footsteps drew close. Several. But it wasn’t any of their group.

•

“These are good people…” Daryl frowns watching Joe keep his grip on Rick as he scoffs toward the archer.

“See…now that’s a lie”

Right before the other Claimer was about to grab Daryl, his body dropped to the floor. Confusing everyone in that heated situation. But given the open window Rick took out the leader while Michonne took out the one pinning her. Daryl went for the ones behind him while the swordsman was heading for the guy pinning Carl but right before she even drew her sword, the sound of a shotgun rang through as the guy splatters against the car sliding against the rusted metal until he met the floor. Carl scrambled away from the dead man feeling Michonne’s protective hold wrap around him as the two heard footsteps approaching from the tree line.

“Holy shit” One of the remaining claimers paused in the middle of fist fighting Daryl to see the figure emerging. “You’re still alive?!” He snaps and right before Daryl could land another punch, he dropped the Claimer when a knife was thrown right at his skull.

“I’m a goddamn roach…”

Daryl quickly turned toward the voice finding Y/N drawing close to grab their knife. But add more insult to injury by crushing the man’s skull with their foot. They both drew their handguns to take out the one approaching from behind Daryl and without a second thought after the assholes were taken care of, Y/N wrapped their arms around their dad feeling him tighten his grip on them.

“I’m so tired, dad…” Y/N sobbed holding onto him as he let them fall apart in his embrace relieved they were alive.

The five settled where they were to give them all a break of what had happened. Michonne stayed with Carl in the car with Rick keeping watch as the Dixons were outside of such leaning against it.

“I thought I lost yea…” Daryl frowns resting his head on top of theirs that was perched on his shoulder. “Thought I lost yea to the illness, then the collapse…”

“I should’ve taken better care of myself…then I wouldn’t have gotten sick, and sort of left there”

“I didn’t want to leave your side. I stayed with yea until the Governor came crashing into our home. I tried to go back but Beth saved my ass from getting killed trying”

“I’ll thank her when we find her”

Finding her dead wasn’t what either expected and neither of them hesitate to take the cop down after she shot Beth. They each took their own toll on the matter.

Couldn’t save her, does that have future indications toward his own blood

Couldn’t save her, was there really a consequence for mattering for oneself for a change

Daryl frowns watching Y/N sit beside him after watching what he did with the cigarette in his hand. They brushed off the ash from the burn checking how bad it was as he took his hand away.

“It’s not as bad as what my dad did to me”

“Still shouldn’t have done it. I still need yea around, old man”

The archer rolls his eyes before wrapping his arm around their shoulders bringing them in.

“What did we learn from this?”

“It’s okay to fight for someone else…as long as you don’t forget yourself”

“Good”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #platonic #daryl dixon fanfiction

[blushstories]

Omg I just came across your Billy Butcher/reader nightmare story! It was completely perfection! I don't know if you're taking requests, but if you are- Could you possibly write one where the reader is part of the boys, but she has an abusive boyfriend that she tries to keep under wraps. Somehow Butcher finds out, either the reader confides in him or maybe confides in a different member of the group and they tell Butcher OR he actually sees the boyfriend hurting the reader. If this is too triggering or makes you uncomfortable, by all means ignore it.

thank you lovely anon <33 you're the sweetest! i am taking requests, hopefully it's clearer to see that now! sort of got carried away because i was unsure about structure, so here's a mini fic for you, i hope it's still alright <3 2k, cw: abusive relationship

Butcher leans back in his chair, arms folded across his torso. One of his hands supports his head, thumb hooked under his chin. 

“Would you look at that,” his hand swallows most of the volume, but you, Hughie and Frenchie are close enough to hear him. “He does seem a bit dodgy, don’t he?” He narrows his eyes at the pixelated supe on the computer screen. “Good one, Hughie.” 

Something in Hughie unravels, you can see his shoulders relax as if with his words, Butcher’s taken a weight off of his shoulders. He sits back into the sofa, content. 

You, however, remain on the edge, literally and metaphorically, ready to run at a moment’s notice; a habit that you wish you could erase. But when nothing’s predictable at home or work (if you can call vigilantism a job), it’s best to keep your guard up. Frenchie rubs his hands together, waiting for Butcher’s plan. A sly smile pulls at his lips as he pieces something together in his head, all cogs and gears. 

And then you catch the time from the tiny corner of the computer screen. 

A sort of ice crystallises around your heart, spreading through your chest with a spiked panic. A lump of lead begins to grow at the bottom of your stomach at the sight. 

“That’s not the actual time, is it?” You say, wiping the palms of your hands on your legs. 

Butcher nonchalantly checks his watch, before looking back at the computer screen, “Looks about right.”

“Oh, fuck,” you spring to your feet, collecting your bag from near the television. “I gotta go, you guys,” the bag strap misses your shoulder, and you fumble to catch it again. “See you tomorrow!” Maybe. 

You almost trip over yourself on your way out, using the stair rail to haul yourself up the steep staircase as you’re not sure you can trust the wibbly, jelly-like sensation in your legs. Ten minutes late. At least ten more for travel. That’s twenty. At least. You might need to buy some more makeup. 

“Oi, Y/N. Where’s the fire? Thought you wanted to stay tonight.” Your foot slips on the stairs at the sound of Butcher’s voice, and you grasp the rail with your other hand, to avoid falling face first into the sharp surface beneath you. 

“Yeah, I said I’d love to stay, not that I could. If I don’t leave now,” you hesitate, filing through several different excuses in your head. “I’ll miss my bus.” It feels flimsy on your tongue, sitting there sourly as you watch Butcher’s stance carefully, standing with his arms folded across his chest and pinning you to the spot with an intense stare you didn’t see often, like he’s studying you. 

Your breathing quickens, your skin is on fire. You need to go. 

“Fuck the bus, I’ll give you a lift. Like your own personal cab driver,” there’s a characteristic cheek to his tone, and for a moment you forget your rush. But there’s a throbbing pain in your right side, and any lightness is blown out like a candle. 

“That’s sweet of you, Billy, but I have to rain check. Next time, okay? See you later,” you wave at the three of them, Hughie and Frenchie waving back gingerly. Butcher remains still as a statue, but you rush up the stairs anyway. You’ve already wasted enough time, you can straighten things out with Butcher tomorrow. 

Weaving through the shelves in the store, you try to calm the hammering in your chest. The knob of the door is slippery under your grip, panic saturating every cell in your body. 

Every minute of your walk home is haunted by a looming cloud of doom. Every second approaching your apartment feels simultaneously too short and too long. You want to find a quiet alleyway and cry, to hide away from everything and everyone— especially your boyfriend. 

It’s hard enough returning home to his apartment-- what’s more like a prison to you. As your key turns in the lock, you can almost smell the fire inside, and you’re about to be burned. 

You swear to yourself, allowing the three seconds it takes to open the door to be the three seconds that you let yourself feel the panic flooding your veins, let yourself shake until you seem to shiver. 

When the lock clicks, you reign it in as best you can. Otherwise, you’ll just make it worse. 

“You’re late.” The disembodied voice is somehow worse than if he were waiting for you on the other side of the door. Your keys clatter into the bowl by the door. 

“I know, I’m sorry. There was traffic, I couldn’t avoid it, and the bus was late—“

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he slinks around the corner, from the kitchen. He’s holding a glass, orange liquid sloshing around the sides. You know it’s not apple juice. 

Your fear gnaws at your stomach, and you almost require a vice to pry open your lungs with every breath. You trip over your words, stumbling your way past a point of no return; a big, yellow warning sign with ‘Turn back now!’ printed on it.  

“It won’t happen again!” You say emphatically, but trying to convince him of your innocence is like talking to a brick wall. You feel sick. 

“What did I tell you about being late?” You’re stuck with your anxiety eating any words that dare to form in your mouth. “Come here,” he says. You remain rooted to the spot. The glass shatters at your feet, as does his resolve. 

His face burns red as he screams the command again, the sound pierces your ears, and you wince. Something drags you forward, and you’re not sure if it’s self preservation or something worse. 

The glass crunches beneath your feet, and you don’t recognise the burning heat on your cheek, the pull of gravity as you fall to the floor. Stray shards of glass prick at your cheek and neck, and your sides absorb a sort of aching pain. 

You bring your knees to your chest, a rage simmering in your chest. You work with vigilantes, you fight some of the most powerful beings on earth on the regular, but it’s an ordinary human that brings you the most pain. And to cope, you hide away in your own thoughts until the torment is over. Billy would be disappointed. 

When a sharp crash snaps you out of the whirlwind in your mind, you realise that there’s no incoming impact. 

“Oi, cunt. Why don’t you step the fuck back?” 

Billy’s voice ices the hot panic in your chest instantly; knowing the anger dripping from his voice isn’t directed at you somehow makes you feel safer. 

Footsteps. Crunch. They’re tauntingly slow, you’re itching to flee, but William Butcher likes his dramatics. You open your eyes slowly. He’s tugging at his sleeves, sizing up your boyfriend— well, you suppose ex-boyfriend now. The venom in Billy’s expression totally dissipates when you meet his eyes. He silently checks if you’re okay, and you nod almost imperceptibly. He turns his attention back to the man frozen behind you. 

“Y/N, run,” it takes you a moment to register his words. “Run!” You move to get up, when something grabs the neck of your shirt. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls, eyes wide and wild. 

Your attacker says nothing as Billy approaches with intent, arm dropping back as he steps around you. A hard thwack and thump follow in quick succession, low grunts and the rustle of clothes: you’re instantly free. 

You push yourself up on your hands, gathering the pieces of yourself that, like the glass, have shattered within you. 

You crawl behind the table near the door, take a deep breath, and wait for peace. A shard of glass falls out of your hair and clinks onto the floorboards. Billy’s voice is threatening, but none of the words are audible. Your ex swears, and you can hear him flail: Billy Butcher does not lose his footing in a fight. 

Eventually, with a large metallic thunk, the silence begins. Your own shaky breaths replace the earlier noise, and you wipe your hand meanly down your cheek and neck. There are thin brushstrokes of blood across your shaking fingers, but nothing to indicate long term damage— physically, at least. Heavy footsteps round the corner, and Billy’s hands grip your shoulders. 

“Hey.” Streaks of blood coat his cheeks, splotching at the collar of his shirt. You can’t find any words, but it looks like Billy just wants your attention, his eyes searching your face like an explorer searching for a lost artifact. Perhaps if he looked hard enough, he’d rediscover the easygoing, bright side of you that had disappeared all those months ago. “You alright? Breathe.” 

You nod, inhaling and fighting back tears. 

“Did you kill him?” You say quietly. His eyes flit over your shoulder, before returning back to you. His hand slides down your arm, resting in the crook of your elbow. 

“Nah. He’s just having a kip. Bastard needed it. Come on, up we get,” he hooks his hands under your arms, helping you to your feet. He leads you out of the apartment gently, and you’re unsure if he’s upset with you, whether he’s just being sweet on you now to fuck it up later. 

Even though there’s no indication of contempt when he opens his car door for you, you still fight to calm the frightened bird flapping in the cage of your chest. 

“Are you angry with me?” You bite the bullet and just say it when he starts the car with a bloodied hand. He double takes, eyes widening and then narrowing in surprise. 

“Why the fuck would I be cross with you?” You wince inwardly. “Sorry,” he softens completely. “Just ain’t clear to me why you didn’t tell us you were up to your eyeballs in this shit.” 

You pull your sleeves over your hands until only your fingertips poke out. 

“I don’t know, Billy. I was scared. An idiot; thought it’d be easier to just… deal with it than to fight.” 

“Don’t be daft, you ain’t an idiot. I’m just glad that cunt got what was coming to ‘im.”

“Thanks,” you say meekly, exchanging your look of gratitude with his fondness. But then, “did you follow me home?” 

A beat. Billy inhales, and you can almost hear him say fuck it in his head. 

“Yeah, I did. You been comin’ in late, all jumpy. Knackered, can see it in your eyes. Then, you got your knickers in a twist like you just cocked up a curfew,” he says, shifting gears. “Got Hughie and Frenchie proper worked up, so I followed ya.” 

He clears his throat and shakes his head quickly, “I was just gonna hang about, you know. You get home safe, have a cuppa, I’m in the wind before sunset.” He stops for a moment, and his jaw rolls. “Then I hear a glass smash and the twat breaking the fucking sound barrier, probably attracting all the dogs in the fucking building. Rest is history.” You smile a little at his phrasing, but your heart is warmed by his concern. 

The car rolls to a stop. 

“Right. Let’s get you sorted. Find you somewhere to sleep. We’ll sift through this shit tomorrow, don’t you worry about it now,” he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, leaning forward and nudging your chin to the side to glimpse the scratches on your neck.

He doesn’t say anything when he leans back and exits the car, but you already feel closer to home than you have for months. 

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #x reader #karl urban characters #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #william butcher #the boys x reader #billy butcher fanfiction #william butcher fanfiction #william butcher x you #butcher the boys

[musical-shit-show]

Can I request 36 and 39 from prompt list 2 with Beetlejuice? I adore your writing sm🛐 and I’m in desperate need of some angst.

no other shade of blue

Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #36 (“stop pushing me away.”) and #39 (“don’t blame me, you know what you signed up for.”) from Prompt List 2

Warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, angst, sexual references, beej and reader are kinda both assholes

Word Count: 1,550

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long, anon! I know I say this a lot, but it’s been really hard for me to find creative inspiration these days. I’m going to blame the weather. But luckily now that the holidays are over, I might finally take my resolutions seriously and write more. Who knows!

Anyways, I love writing angst so I really need to do that more often. If you’d like to read more, check out my Masterlist and About Me page. And if you’d like to make a request, I have several Prompt lists for plenty of inspiration! As always, thanks everyone for the support. I really want to get better at writing this year, so that requires me to actually, ya know, write. Hopefully I stick to that! Happy 2024 and happy reading!

“So, you got a boyfriend?”

You couldn’t help but groan as you downed the shot he had so graciously bought you. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and you were getting drunker by the second.

Your actual friends had decided on a dingy bar in the city that night, but you couldn’t help but look at the time nervously as they happily clamored around the pool table behind you. It was getting late.

“Oh, what an interesting and complicated question, Darren,” you replied, doing your absolute best not to slur your words. You exhaled, your elbows digging into the top of the bar. “Yes and no.”

Darren couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. He was cute, but definitely did not seem above taking advantage of a drunk girl with an ambiguous relationship status.

“Situationship?” he probed, pulling his beer towards his lips. You didn’t answer. “Been there. Can be fun, but…messy.”

A dry laugh escaped your lips. Messy didn’t even begin to cover it, but you didn’t have enough hours in the day to explain it to this guy. Nor did you want to.

“Yeah,” you said, toying with the shot glass, “He can be sweet but…I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side if I were you.”

“I’m tough.”

“Believe me, it’s not worth the trouble.”

“I’d like to decide that for myself, thanks,” he drawled, his eyelids heavy as he glanced towards the door. “Wanna get outta here?”

Before you knew it you were slammed up against the side of a building that made up a dimly-lit alleyway, the brick digging into your back as Darren kissed you aggressively.

Your eyes fluttered, trying to focus on the task at hand. But your attention turned the flickering streetlamp and menacing fog that seemed to be encroaching upon your impromptu hookup.

He nipped at your neck, and you couldn’t help but let out an involuntary moan. An action that you would certainly be paying for later.

“Shit,” you muttered, hearing a low growl in your ear. He was close, and you could only imagine the shitstorm he would cause if you continued to make out with this random. 

You cursed the day you ever listened to Beetlejuice. He was persuasive in more ways than one, and if you didn’t act fast, things would get ugly.

“Hey,” you said as Darren came up for air, “I have to go, but, uh, I’ll call you?” He looked at you a little disappointed, but after a few moments and an awkward number exchange, you were left alone.

You looked around, making sure no other living person was in earshot. “Alright, show’s over, asshole!” you goaded, growing angrier by the second, “Come on out now.”

“You’ll call him?” an indignant voice bellowed, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Beetlejuice was nothing if not dramatic.

Ever since you summoned him—accidentally, you might add—the ghoul had been nothing but a thorn in your side. Unfortunately for you, you also happened to be drawn to the passionate energy that came with that kind of adversarial relationship.

It was a problem you knew would be better addressed in therapy. Instead, you thought it’d be a better idea to fuck the ghost. 

“No, you idiot,” you shot back as the demon appeared, floating angrily above you, “You’ll make sure of that, won’t you?”

Beetlejuice’s feet hit the ground, his hair glowing bright red in the moonlight. He drew closer to you, a predator stalking its prey.

“I’ve been watching you all night, babe,” he hissed, your back hitting the wall yet again. Your body instantly tensed, the smell of death and decay overwhelming your senses. He shook his head, a mix of arousal and disgust flashing on his pale face.

Your eyes bore into his as they glowered with envy. “So?” you drew your shoulders back, straightening your spine, “We’re not together. Who I fuck or don’t fuck is none of your goddamn business.”

He laughed indignantly, “You think I’m threatened by that guy? Please.” His amber eyes flashed briefly with a twinge of insecurity.

“Then why go through the trouble of scaring him off, hm?” you goaded, “Afraid I’d finally found someone better?”

Beetlejuice couldn’t help but feel wounded. Sure, you both fought. A lot. But you couldn’t stay away from each other for long. You’d fight, you’d banish him, and then like clockwork, you’d call him back and reconcile, which usually involved ripping each other’s clothes off.

Despite never defining the relationship, the two of you couldn’t help feel possessive over one another. And because you had a vindictive streak, you didn’t care about using other guys to make him jealous.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he growled, pressing a large hand against the wall as he inched closer to you, “And we also know that I’m a better fuck than any of those other breathers combined.” You inhaled, stifling your fear and shoving it back down your throat.

Beetlejuice’s gaze softened. Even for a dead guy, he could pick up on your mannerisms like no one else. “You’re so fucking stubborn, you know that? I just wish you would stop pushing me away. A demon can only take so much back and forth from one human.”

Your eyes narrowed, your face inching closer to his. You studied his expression for cracks in the façade that he loved to put up. It was just one of the many ways he liked to fuck with you.

“Ah, the ‘woe is me’ bullshit,” you smirked. “Don’t blame me, you know what you signed up for.”

Even in the dim streetlight, you could see Beetlejuice’s mood shift from pure scarlet anger to a melancholic swirl of violet and maroon. It would’ve been almost beautiful if you weren’t so pissed at him.

“And if I remember correctly, you were the one who didn’t want to be tied down,” you scoffed in disgust, reminding him of his many trysts down to the Netherworld, “It’s not my fault you can’t take the same bullshit that you dish out to me.”

You typically had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy; but recently, you could feel the jealousy between the two of you reaching a boiling point. You were looking for a fight, and you knew hooking up with another guy would send Beetlejuice over the edge.

“Drop the tough guy act, sweetheart,” he was almost pleading with you, ignoring the harshness he exhibited only moments ago. “You know I don’t want anyone else.”

‘Not in the ways that matter, anyways,’ he thought, unwilling to tack on that addendum verbally.

You felt hot tears forming in your eyes, but you held them back. You’d be damned if you let Beetlejuice see you cry, after all the vitriol you’d spat at him.

He finally backed away from you, giving you room to breathe. You peeled yourself from the brick wall, unsure how to proceed.

Beetlejuice considered sweeping you off your feet; maybe an attempt at wooing you would make you both forget the meaningless squabbling.

After all, that was how the two of you communicated: passionate fights and even more passionate sex.

Not exactly the healthiest relationship. And by the looks of it, this…thing between you was starting to take its toll.

“I don’t…I can’t believe you,” you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest. “W-We fight constantly, and I’m awful to you, and…I don’t like who I am when I’m with you, Beej.”

All red from the demon’s hair was instantly replaced with deep purples and blues. A sign of complete melancholy.

“I get it, babe,” he said, his voice dripping with despair. “What can I say? I bring out the worst in people.” He sounded disgusted with himself, like he knew this would happen eventually and he did nothing to prevent the inevitable.

It didn’t matter that he loved you more than any other breather. He couldn’t tell you. It was too late.

Beetlejuice knew he was broken, and now he had broken you too. And the thought of that made him want to die again and again.

You tried to speak but no words were able to escape your throat. You wanted to apologize, to tell him that no other guys mattered, that you could start over and figure it out.

But you couldn’t.

Instead, a strange sob came out, and you tried to shield yourself in the shadows of the alley so that he couldn’t see you. Beetlejuice cocked his head, a sad expression on his pale face.

“I should, uh, probably go then,” he said, his gravelly voice low. He usually relished in making breathers cry, but now he couldn’t even bare to look at you as tears streamed down your face.

You nodded, signaling that you wanted him to leave. “I’m…fuck, I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t really know what else to say, the air thick between you.

You turned around to face him, salt stinging your eyes. But he was gone. Not even a stupid puff of green smoke left behind.

‘It’s for the best,’ you thought as you walked home alone.

Of course, you knew that thought wouldn’t stick; you knew you’d last three days maximum before you summoned that demon again.

Old habits die hard.

*****

Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #alex brightman #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice broadway #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #angst prompts #angst prompt #writing dialogue #prompt list #prompt #story prompts #broadway fanfiction #bjtm #bjtmtmtm #beej #tim burton #justin collette #will blum #my writing #fic writing #creative writing #romance writing #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #ask #anon ask

[kunoichihatake]

pending requests 🌸

hey guys! so I saw this idea on @butterfly-showers‘s blog (she’s a sweetheart so go check her out!) and I thought it would be neat to incorporate on my blog too 🥰

requests are open, but please read my rules before requesting!

*please note that I will probably not be completing every request on this list. this is merely a list of what is currently in my inbox*

last updated: 6/29/2021, 6:08 pm est

currently pending: 22 fics/hcs and 8 abc asks

Key:

normal text = I have NOT started working on the request

italics = I am currently working on this request

bold and crossed out = this request is finished and is scheduled to post soon!

—————————————————————

fics

A short request or hc for a fem reader being the mother figure for naruto and sasuke like they even call her mom 🥺 anyways kakashi like reader and but she don’t know and like they both tease him for liking his mom 😂 (hopefully they get together)

Sasuke finding out that somebody else survived his clan? How would he react? Like would he try and date her to restore his clan and stuff??

Can you write something about touch starved Naruto having his s/o sleep over for the first time because i can’t stop thinking about that 🥺

Can I request Gaara x Reader head cannons where Gaara is sick and reader takes care of him,could it also include him being extremely sleepy and exhausted?

Ok so bare with me now, can I have like a fic where Naruto loved the reader and she left the village and then he moves on to marry Hinata but she comes back and he cheats on Hinata with the reader but like she’s clueless about naruto and Hinata marriage

Hello! Can I rq headcanons for Shisui's final words or moments with his s/o before he dies? Like he gives her a necklace or something so she can remember him and then gives Itachi a message to send her (you don't have to do this if you don't want too)

hi! I really love your stories and was wondering if you could write some kakashixreader where the mc is recovering from an abuse relationship with an ex and rediscovering love with him s2 just think that would be really sweet and I’ve been through some stuff anyway thanks even if you don’t! You’re really nice thank you for taking your time to listen to us s2 hope your doing fine

hi! Can i rq hcs for anbu kakashi getting jealous of shisui and y/ns relationship? like he thought his identity was limited to just being a shinobi until he saw y/n kissing shisui and he's over here like, "Danm,I just wanna be loved like that?

So I saw your fake dating post and I would LOVE a reader insert/fake dating with Shikamaru. I haven’t seen anything like it. 🥺

Hcs of Madara and Kakashi (and Izuna if you can, but if not that's okay) with an S/O who's stronger than them? Or has accomplished more than them? :)

husband sasuke x wife reader

hcs for shisui going on a mission with his s/o and one the mission they get trapped in a genjutsu that revels his s/o's sad past and she gets emotional

hm, i have a good idea! How about scenario with fem!s/o and itachi having pyjama party in akatsuki hideout? maybe some jealous!Itachi and innocent and childish s/o?

Can I have a one shot or scenario for when Sasuke finds out his s/o has been crying themself to sleep?

Tsunade or Mei x reader with reader uncomfortable w/ taking the next step/talking about boundaries

headcanons for Iruka as a father figure

how Iruka would spend a day off with his S/O

Torturous Betrayal pt. 2

Lover asks

Madara

Minato

Deidara

Obito

Fluff/Smut ABCs

Fluff alphabet C,G,K, and M for obito pls

Pls- Yamato fluff alphabet- Do anything- I beg of u- I love that man♥️

I was wondering if i could get A,C,F,P for my emo tomato sasuke (fluff)

can i please request C, J, M and P of the fluff abc with kiba?

would u be able to do c,h,j,p from the fluff list for kiba??

J,L,P,C for Kisame (fluff alphabet) please 😙

could i request F,G,S from the fluff alphabet for my baby kashi

hi! can i request minato with fluff alphabet a,b,j,l,t please?

#I tend to only work on one or two at a time so this will mostly be normal text lol #but this way hopefully you guys can check up on the status of your requests! #(and that way I don't have to answer asks about when requests will be done haha) #pending requests list

[pikablu410]

Influencing the Influencer: Part 1

I feel like I’ve starved y’all enough for stories so I’m splitting up this current story I’m working on into two parts. Hopefully you guys enjoy this in the meanwhile and makes the story easier to digest. 

“Ur so sexy!! 😍😍”

“Omg marry me rn”

“Fck I need you in me soooo bad”

Jay looked at the comments on his latest Instagram post with vain glee. Within a few days he had amassed a significant following by simply posting various pictures of himself. Mirror selfies, photos of him in different outfits, or even just short videos of him going to get lunch. On the second day, seeing how exponential his growth was, he made a TikTok account to amass an even larger following.

From those few days, Jay was consistently getting thousands of likes on his posts and had tens of thousands of followers. But to him, it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Jay wanted to be movie star-famous.

As he looked over his recent post, the number of likes increasing by the thousands, Jay decided to lay back and check the post later. He decided to head to the bathroom and fix himself up before preparing another post he was sure would go viral. 

Looking into the mirror, Jay couldn’t help but feel a massive sense of pride flow through him. His long, curly hair stuck out above his model-status face. Jay had eyes that were so beautiful that even he himself sometimes got lost looking into them. His lips were perfectly luscious, tempting many into wanting to press their own into them. His thin face showcasing his perfect jawbones and chin. Jay’s outfit only added to his charm, keeping up to date with the most recent fashion trends and styles. Lifting his light gray shirt up, Jay admired the slight abs on his light brown skin. He had recently started working on them to attract even more followers. When he looked back up at his face again, Jay couldn’t help but cry out, “Damn, I’m hot!” 

After combing his hair to prep himself up, Jay opened his phone’s camera to take a picture. However, he was interrupted by a DM notification from Instagram. 

“Man the fuck do you want?!” Jay whined, the distraction messing up his photo. He opened the app and went to his DMs. Most of them were from fans asking for nudes or to fulfill their sexual desires. Jay took up some of his female fans on the offer, but immediately deleted any from anyone else. Though it was never really brought up, Jay had some serious homophobia issues. 

The account had a default profile picture and had posted pictures, but it was privated so Jay couldn’t see anything. He sent a request to follow, but they didn’t seem to accept right away. Jay just shrugged. It wasn’t like he didn’t get accounts commenting for shoutouts so he could grow his following on each post. Regardless, it didn’t look like a typical message asking for a dick pic or for a promotion, so Jay opened it purely out of curiosity. Plus, the bit of the message he did see intrigued him.

“I heard you want to be famous.”

The message was ominous, but to Jay it seemed more like a scam than anything else. He decided to play into it. If they asked for a credit card or personal information Jay would just stop the conversation there.

“Yeah.” He sent first, “Who doesn’t?”

Scarily, the anonymous texter responded in seconds.

“I can help you. I’m someone who deals in this kind of thing. I can guarantee results today.”

Jay laughed at the last part. There was no way this random person could just make him as famous as he wanted to today. Still, they hadn’t asked for anything crazy.

“What do I gotta do, then?” Jay text. He figured it was just some scam promoter or someone who was going to ask him to participate in a sponsored deal, the latter not sounding that bad.

Again, they responded within seconds.

“Just tell me what you want and follow what I say. Do that and your desires will be fulfilled.”

Jay, who was now sitting on his couch, leaned over and got prepared to type his “desires,” whatever the hell that meant.

“ight,” he started his text.

“I wanna be as famous as those celebrities in super hero movies. Like spider man n shit. I wanna blow up. Go viral, kno what I mean? I wanna have millions of followers and people liking my stuff, just pictures and videos of me being hot n shit.” 

It took a few more seconds for them to respond, but eventually the stranger text back, “Your desires will be acknowledged and granted.” 

Surprised that this person hadn’t asked him for a credit card or to sponsor some outlandish product, Jay went to his Instagram page to check his followers. “yaboi_jay07” the page read. To his dismay, it was still in the mid 4,000 range. Checking his TikTok wasn’t much better, still being in the high 3,000s. However, when the stranger text him again, Jay remembered his part of the deal.

“Right, I gotta do what this guy says.” Jay mumbled, expecting to receive a link to some fishy website that would likely hack his account.

However, Jay was surprised when the message read, “Eat the burgers and fast food you ordered.”

Jay didn’t remember ordering any food, much less food from some greasy takeout joint. However, after he read the text, Jay smelled something strong. It seemed like it was coming from the kitchen, so Jay got up and walked in, surprised to see two greasy, paper bags on the table. As he picked one up to investigate, Jay got a massive headache. Recoiling from the sudden pain, he stepped back before recollecting himself.

He now remembered that he ordered some food to eat because he hadn’t eaten all day and was starving. Usually Jay wouldn’t order out, but he decided to treat himself today, especially with how much his following had grown. As he was about to take the food into the living room, Jay felt his phone vibrate and noticed another DM from the stranger.

“Stream yourself eating the food.”

It was a weird request, but Jay just shrugged it off and decided to adhere to their demands. If they were going to make him famous, who was he to judge what they wanted. Going to his page, Jay started a livestream on Instagram since he already had it open.

“‘Sup y’all.” Jay said as his fans started to tune in. Immediately there were several comments about how attractive Jay was, but a few started to ask what he was doing.

 “I decided to treat y’all today and livestream, since I’m in a good mood,” Jay started as he pulled out a burger, “I ordered lunch cause I was so hungry, so maybe we can do a little Q&A while I eat.”

The wrapper was covered with grease, but Jay didn’t seem to mind. Slowly, he unwrapped the delicious morsel before setting it down on the table, pulling out the fries and placing his soda in front of him. Hearing his stomach grumble, Jay finally decided to grab the burger and take a bite. He let out an audible moan that even his phone camera picked up. Jay looked up at the live stream to see his fans going crazy for it, so he took another bite. It was like he couldn’t help himself from basking in how good the food tasted.

“Mmm, damn this shit’s good.” Jay mumbled to himself. He barely noticed the grease covering the edges of his mouth before he finished the first burger. While he was surprised he finished the burger so quickly, his hunger soon hijacked his thoughts and Jay went to grab another burger. He took a swig of soda and ate a few fries before tackling the burger.

Continuing to devour the burger, Jay remembered he was live streaming and had fans asking questions. “Sorry y’all,” Jay chuckled, “I forgot I was streaming.” He then started to answer some questions, happy to see the same typical ones. 

“What’s your favorite song?” 

“Do you have a favorite outfit?” 

“What’s your favorite thing to do?” 

“Are you single?”

There were plenty like the last question, Jay happy to indulge his ego by answering them the most. However, Jay read over a question he wasn’t normally used to seeing.

“Can you show off your fat @$$?”

Jay was about to laugh off the question, but got another headache. It wasn’t as major this time, but it still messed with him a little. His ass wasn’t that big, but it kinda made sense his fans would want to see it. At least, it was starting to make sense to Jay. He always let his pants sag in photos, so maybe that’s where the question came from. As Jay started to stand up and lift his pants down there was a bit of cognitive dissonance. Was his ass fatter than he remembered? 

Turning around to show off to the camera, Jay instinctually felt himself move his body up, only to let it back down and cause his ass to jiggle. It was never that big, he was sure of it. But taking another swig of soda cleared his mind. His ass was part of why people loved him. Boys with big asses were trending right now, so of course he had a fat one.

Peaking over his shoulder to see the stream, Jay was giddy with glee seeing the amount of praise and likes, as well as new viewers and followers. He continued showing off his rotund rear, happy to see it was making him more popular.

Jay put his hands under his rear to jiggle it some more, the feeling now pleasureful to him. “That good? Y’all like the fatty I got?” He teased. Turning to the side, Jay continued his routine of jiggling his rear. It stuck to his underwear like it was tightly packed in. “How ‘bout now?” He devilishly smirked again.

Not forgetting about his meal, Jay continued to eat the fast food on the table in front of him. He took a bite of a burger before moaning at the taste. Jay hadn’t realized how he let some of the burger fall to the floor when he took another bite. Looking over at the stream, Jay thought he saw his ass grow out when he ate more of the burger, but knew that couldn’t be the case. It was probably just the angle he was at. However, Jay did notice more comments coming in and quickly realized he had nearly double the viewers from when he started. In fact, his following count was exponentially increasing, Jay mentally thanking the stranger from before. 

Jay continued to play with his ass and eat the burger, picking up another one after he finished this one. He hadn’t even kept track of how much he was eating at this point. He was about to take a break and read some requests and comments, but one in particular caught his eye.

“Take off ur shirt!” 

It sparked a movement, many fans typing things like. “Off with the shirt!” or “#NoShirt4Jay” and even “Less shirt more skin!” Jay was never one to turn down any exhibitionism, so he decided to follow through with his fans’ request. 

“If that’s what y’all want,” Jay started, “I’ve been tryna go gym a bit more recently.” It wasn’t that noticeable because of how much he ate, but Jay’s slight abs did show through on camera. He took another bite out of the burger before drinking some soda. His fans went crazy, but not as much as they had when he showed off his ass for the first time. 

Jay wondered why his fans weren’t as excited about his abs, but he continued to eat to distract himself. He took a long drink from the soda before going back to eat some more fries, but surprised himself with a long and loud belch. 

“Damn, where’d that come from?” Jay mumbled to himself just before his brain went fuzzy again. It wasn’t as bad as the headache from before, but it still felt strange. It didn’t last as long as the headaches either, so Jay just shrugged it off as him being tired and continued to eat. Looking over at his stream, Jay was a bit surprised by the new comments rolling in.

“I LOVE your little belly!” 

“Ur so cute with that tummy!” 

“U might wanna think abt going to the gym more…lol”

Jay was so confused, until he looked down and saw a belly instead of abs. Again, his mind got fuzzy. Why would he have abs and eat so much junk food? If he was trying to get fit, he definitely wouldn’t have downed four burgers within half an hour. Another belch brought him back to reality, and Jay knew what was right.

“Yeah, I should probably cut back on all the fast food I order.” He chuckled before belching again. The chubbier boy grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them in his mouth. Jay knew his appetite was catching up to him, but he didn’t think it was that big of an issue. He really wasn’t that big, and if his fans liked him a little chunkier then what was the harm?

Jay belched before taking another bite of his burger. Did he look a little bigger than before? He thought his ass looked bigger, but chalked it up to the camera once again. Shaking his rear around for it to jiggle, Jay thought his ass certainly felt bigger. However, he felt the strange impulse to jiggle his belly as well. Doing both caused his viewers to skyrocket. The fans were loving him, and Jay smirked as he took another bite of his burger. All the jiggling was getting to him though, and he let out one more long belch before finishing off the burger. He went to reach for another, but was disappointed when there was nothing left. 

The influencer sat back down before starting to rub his bare belly. “Sorry y’all, this big boy’s all stuffed.” Jay chuckled, which caused his brain some confusion. Why would he call himself a ‘big boy’? He wasn’t trying to promote his weight, and in fact he thought he should probably lose some of it. The fans seemed to like it, though, so Jay wasn’t too bothered. 

Looking over the stream, Jay noticed a familiar notification pop up. It was a new message from the stranger who was making him popular. Jay had almost forgotten about them and was almost confused as to why they were still talking to him. However, he remembered the terms of their deal and opened the message for any orders from them. 

“Nice job to start. I hope you’re enjoying some more fame.” They first sent. Jay awaited the next message, as they typed it up.

“Go eat that cake in your refrigerator. I’m sure you’re still hungry.” Was their next order. 

Not questioning it this time, Jay went to his fridge to fulfill his next task. He barely noticed how his belly was starting to hang over the waistband of his underwear, nor how it and his ass jiggled with every step he took. Opening the fridge, Jay looked in awe at his next meal. It nearly took up the entire fridge, and Jay thought it looked suitable for a wedding. 

“I don’t know if I can eat all this.” Jay mumbled to himself, but his growling stomach disagreed. “I guess that burp gave me some room.” He chuckled under his breath. Struggling to not drop the dessert, Jay slowly carried the cake back to his dining room table. Sitting back down, Jay greeted his stream once again.

“Sorry y’all, had to get dessert.” He panned over the cake to show it off, “Let’s see how much I can eat.” Jay grabbed a fork and a knife before cutting out a small slice of cake. It had pink white icing and was a yellow cake, and Jay figured it would just be a boring sweet he would quickly get sick of. Thankfully, to his surprise the cake was delicious! The icing tasted like silky sugar and the cake was still moist. Jay had to hold himself back from eating too fast and choking on the food.

Jay belched after destroying the slice of cake. “Fuck man, that was the shit!” Jay exclaimed. His fans seemed happy, and wanted him to gorge himself more. Before Jay could go back to the cake, he noticed the stranger had text him.

“Eat the cake with just your hands and mouth.”

It seemed like a weirdly specific request, but Jay could do it pretty easily so he didn’t object. Grabbing a chunk of cake, Jay ate the cake from his bare hands. He found it came strangely fast, quickly starting to alternate between each hand of cake.

“Mmpf, man this shit is good!” Jay mumbled out between stuffed bites of cake. He was completely lost in the taste, unable to realize just how messy he was getting. Icing started to cover his lips and cheeks, crumbs got on his table and his hands looked like he had dug through a bakery’s garbage. 

Jay’s moans of pleasure went on for a few minutes, his viewership skyrocketing. He didn’t know this kind of stuff was so popular, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. Usually Jay wasn’t too happy about his body, and showing off his extra bulk was the first thing he found useful about it.

Letting out a deep belch, Jay finally decided to take his focus away from the cake and return back to his stream.

“Ur burps are soooo cute! <3” 

“The way you eat the cake is super sexy 🥵🥵”

“I love how chunky you are!!” 

Jay laughed at the last comment. Looking down after stuffing some cake in his mouth, he jiggled his belly a bit. It moved and wiggled for a bit before resting, Jay letting out a belch as a result. The jiggling reminded him of his ass, which he promptly decided to show his fans by standing up.

“Yeah I’m a bit of a chunky boy.” Jay giggled. It brought some dissonance in his brain again, but he just shrugged it off. The cake and attention were too good for him to stop eating and showing off. He looked at his viewer count again. “chunkyboi_jay07. Stream in progress. 20.6k Viewers.” Jay smiled at the statistics. Whoever this person helping him out was really knows stuff.

Jay took another handful of cake before grabbing his belly in both hands and shaking it up and down. It not only caused his ass to jiggle, but his newfound moobs as well.

“Damn, maybe I should go to the gym more. I have my own tits!” Jay jokingly exclaimed, grabbing one of his moobs with his cake covered hand. He jiggled it around as he fed himself more cake. His viewers sure did love it when he played with his body. Jay smirked as he jiggled his belly some more before turning around and playing with his ass. His view count was innumerably higher than it normally would have been, so Jay saw no reason to stop playing with his flab. 

However, Jay hadn’t realized how out of breath he was from standing for so long. “Man, maybe I should go to the gym more.” Jay thought to himself as he slowly collapsed onto the chair. He continued to eat the cake, not thinking about much else besides his shortness of breath. The cake changed his mind about the gym quickly, though, as he soon went back to grabbing handfuls with both of his greedy, chubby hands.

The viewers really couldn’t tell what he was saying, if he was trying to say anything at all. They didn’t care though, the comments continuing to flood in as Jay gorged himself.

“You go fat boy! Shake dat ass!🍑🍑”

“I looooove a man with extra meat on him❤️”

“U r suuuch a pig!🐷🐷🐷”

Jay felt the need to check his stream after that last comment sent. He hadn’t seen it, but for some reason he knew it would be there and he needed to check it. “Guess I am…a pretty big pig…huh?” Jay panted out, trying to put on a smile. He was getting worn out just from sitting there and eating. He was about to go back to stuffing himself with his bare hands, but Jay knew that would tire him out too fast.

Instead, Jay plunged his entire face into the cake, eating as much of the cake as he could right there. His viewers went crazy, cheering him on for taking on so much to eat. After a bit of nonstop eating, Jay sat back to let out an enormous belch that shook the table. He smirked at himself with pride, knowing his fans would love this.

However, Jay’s prideful pleasure was soon stopped when he heard an ominously large creaking sound. It was like someone was approaching him, but he wasn’t sure from where. It sounded so close, it was like they were on top of…

Not a second later, the chair Jay was on snapped and he fell down on the floor with a crash. Getting himself together, Jay felt oddly satisfied “Oooooh,” He moaned in pleasure, “I’m such a fat fucking pig.”

For some reason, Jay felt turned on by his ability to just break a chair by sitting on it, and his own comment about being a pig. He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling too much joy to question it. His glee only increased as he checked his stream. “516k viewers” It read. And counting. Jay needed to thank whoever was helping him out. He paused the stream and went to go text them, but found they were already starting to type something to him.

“Good job piggy. Hope you like the attention.” They sent. 

All Jay did was rapidly nod, very happy with his popularity. He was too into the rising stardom that he couldn’t think of words to express himself.

“Your next task is to go to your room and jerk off. Cum for all your viewers to see.” Was their next message

Jay was happy to do that. He was already starting to get a chub just from his size! Slowly getting up, Jay waddled to his stairs, realizing the near insurmountable task in front of him. Attempting to lift his sausage thigh higher than he had all day, Jay already started to feel sweat as he climbed the first step, his entire body jiggling from the movement. Slowly continuing this process, Jay thought he’d never make it up.

“Man…I really…gotta…lay off…the cookies…” He panted, only halfway there. Beads of sweat dripped in between his rolls on his stomach and in between his fat ass cheeks. It didn’t even cross Jay’s mind that he had been up and down these stairs countless times before, too eager for the attention and to fulfill the request for even more attention.

Finally stepping into his room, Jay collapsed on his bed. He was covered in sweat, his hair a mess and his body shimmering with a greasy shine. Letting out a belch, Jay took some time to recover before standing up again and setting his phone up against a lampshade to start the stream again. Tapping the resume button, the stream got the wide sight of Jay’s ass as he waddled back to his bed to talk to the stream.

“Hey…y’all…” He said, still taking deep breaths. Jay rubbed his sweaty belly and jiggled his moobs while he took a few seconds to recover a bit more. “Today…I’m gonna treat y’all to something special.” Jay let out, smirking as he lifted his belly up. 

Somehow, he was able to reach under his belly far enough to know where his hidden dick was. Despite it being in a swaddle of fat, Jay knew where to grab, jiggling the area of fat to get himself off. He let out a slight moan, which his viewers barely heard. However, they still went crazy for it. 

Jay smirked as he saw the viewer count skyrocket once again that day. He let out a louder moan, and then an unintentional fart. For some reason, that turned him on, so Jay decided to let out a deep belch. His moans got louder and higher in pitch, the boy playing with himself for his viewers to enjoy. 

Too busy getting himself off, Jay didn’t notice how his phone had become a tripod camera, his phone moving to the dresser on the side of his bed. Nor did Jay notice how the stream, now viewable from his laptop on a nearby desk, was on his OnlyFans account instead of his Instagram or TikTok ones. 

Empty wrappers and bottles started to litter Jay’s room, a few appearing on his bed as he streamed. Letting out another fart, Jay noticed an uneaten TastyKake, quicky devouring it as he got himself off. He didn’t notice his growing body along with the changing room. His viewers loved it, so Jay didn’t care. He saw his count going up by at least another one hundred thousand. 

Instinctively reaching under his bed, Jay grabbed the first rubbery thing he found. A long, thick black dildo appeared from under the bed, Jay looking directly at the camera with a devious sense. Taking a second to insert it into himself, Jay said, “OooOOoOh, I wish a nice, sexy guy was here instead.” He played off his pleasure to entice the viewers. “Someone who would just feed me and fuck me, all day long.” He said, tempestuously, “Hopefully I don’t fart it out.” Jay giggled innocently at the last comment.

After he got most of the tool between his fat ass cheeks, Jay started to feel himself come to a climax. His moans grew longer and louder, the amount of viewers exponentially growing.

“That’s a good piggy. Eat, grow and fuck.”

“God, you used to be so fit. Now you’re a fat pig.”

“Cum for daddy, piggy!” 

It was all too much for Jay and he finally came, coating his underbelly in a white goo. As he came, something in Jay snapped. It was as if his entirely reality was shifting and turning, now finally settling into place. Falling back on his bed, Jay looked over at his laptop and saw his viewer count pass one million. He smiled, knowing he was a famous piggy.

Shortly after he came, Jay heard his phone vibrate.

“Excellent job piggy. Are you ready for your next task?” The anonymous texter said

Jay thought for a second, but his thoughts were dull. He wanted food and to show off.

“What do I have to do next?” Jay eagerly text, awaiting his next orders 

#weight gain #weight gain story #male weight gain #gay weight gain

[thrndlngs]

hey rose! (can i call you that?? sorry if that's not your preference) i may or may not have caught a case of crazy phat mad feelings for a boy and i was wondering if you had any cute headcanons about some of the MHA boys pining for a pretty fem reader?? i can't imagine this guy liking me back but i figure hey, if nobody got me ik pretty superhero boys got me AMEN lmbo no pressure on this request. hope you're doing well and things are okay in your world!! thanks love you!! first anon OUT 😌✌️✨💖

omg ya that’s totally cool!! i actually like that!!!! but omg, pls! i’m sure it’ll work out if not... hopefully these headcanons will help u out!!! LOVE U FIRST ANON!!!!!!!!

IZUKU MIDORIYA, 

will definitely stare at the back of your head during class and imagine 700 different scenarios that could ‘possibly’ happen if the two of you ever have a conversation that doesn’t involve school.

keeps note of your quirks and tries to give you pointers on how to use ur quirk via crumpled paper airplanes in the courtyard or slipped into ur locker.

will always, always, always keep an eye out for you to make sure you’re okay - if he sees you crying he’s gonna embarrass himself and be like, “you think that’s bad? kachan almost blew me to bits.” and now the both of you are crying.

daydreams about u.

whenever the class is training at the USJ or anywhere really, he’s bouncing. like. literally bouncing on his heels in case something goes wrong, he wants to be able to intervene. not because he thinks you’re not capable of fending for urself but it’s because he literally can not bare the thought of u getting hurt.

he definitely draws ur names with a heart and arrow through it!!!!!!!

really admires u and tries to be really nonchalant about how fond he’s become of u so when the two of you do have a conversation it’s just like... gibberish. you know when he goes on those little rants and the words cloud around him and everyone is like??? midoriya wtf. yeah like that.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI,

explosive boy definitely doesn’t know he likes you until he goes to recovery girl and recovery girl has to explain him the ‘weird’ feeling in his stomach, the rise of temperature in his face and the quickening of his pulse is literally because he has a crush. on you.

and boy does this raging blonde flip his shit. him?? have a crush??? when he’s trying to be number one hero??? a distraction??? not in this lobby.

easier said than done.

tries to avoid you at all costs. like even moves his seat permanently so he doesn’t have to breathe the same air as you.

no because during a training the two of you are teamed up and this man literally holds his breath like he’s five because he doesn’t want to inhale your ‘germs’. but he grows up a bit and realizes that you’re actually pretty strong and can handle your own. heavy emphasis on the pretty. 

so not only is he pinning for you but now he sees you as competition. so the initial plan to avoid you goes out of the window because he wants to one up you.

bakugou’s face is tomato red everytime the two of you spar and you think it’s because he’s mad but jokes on u.

takes a HOT minute but he’ll suffer in silence and just y’know open the door and wait five minutes for you to walk through it and then complain after. 

sees you in the hallway and flicks you in the forehead and reminds you that he’s going to be number one. but later beats himself up because wtf? why didn’t he say something else.

will go out of his way to fix your fighting stances and then have a coughing fit. so he’s going to push through his feelings but it’s really obvious to everyone else that he isn’t being lowkey, yknow?

IIDA TENYA,

my favorite class rep. he’s going to be so obvious about it. like. he’s an open book.

will offer to help you study. makes sure your chair is pulled out every morning so you don’t have to do it.

will also let you board the bus first.

will also tense up whenever you look at him. holds an emergency class meeting (excluding you) to figure out how to handle this ‘situation’ and everyone is like... dude

he takes kirishima’s ‘show her you’re a manly man’ to serious and tries to show off. with his grades, quirk and his class rep status which you know isn’t working so he’s back to square one. 

as bad as it sounds he makes a copy of all of his notes and color codes them based off of his you know ‘coding’ system and has it handy in case you don’t come to class one day or fall behind.

everyone knows but you. everyone also thinks that you would’ve found out by now since iida holds you on your own pedestal but! LOLKDSAJ

DENKI KAMINARI,

okay so.... this man... is so drama. he’s a clutz and obvious but he isn’t going to be direct. whether it’s because he’s scared of being rejected or because he’s not confident enough like bakugou and todoroki is unknown but anywayz

leans on the locker and tries to woo you with some words and falls. literally falls over. it’s okay though (in his eyes) because you immediately get eye level with him and try to check on him. it’s a win in his eyes.

is totally okay with the nickname ‘calamari’ but only likes it when you call him that. he tries to tell everyone that it’s a ‘you and him’ thing and gets teased abt it.

tries to include you in every conversation possible. he wants you to feel included in everything.

thinks ur like a walking goddess and that u should be treated as such.

he gets a little to excited around you so whenever the two of you touch he gives off some electricity and immediately goes on a thirty minute rant on how sorry he is.

makes you... a fucking... mixtape... with scribbled out hearts on the cover.

also... sends you songs to listen to but it’ll be like some random edm song and ur like”oh wow... love that...” and he’s like “ok cross that out she doesn’t like EDM.” and is DETERMINED to find out your favorite genre so the two of you have something to bond over.

changes your ringtone on his phone to the pokemon theme song because and i quote, “she’s the ash to my pikachu.”

isn’t so lowkey about his crush but??? everyone thinks he’s like?? just being himself?? so??? 

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA,

 bro. this man... THIS LOVELY SHARK BOY. 

is literally textbook definition of GENTLEMAN.

will not act on his feelings until YOU act on them because he’s scared he’ll overstep so he’s going to be like..... suffering in silence. but he doesn’t mind!!!!!!

holds the door 4 u. :)

checks on u 24/7.

stares at you in class and drools. 

walks with you like everywhere. literally. like to class, to the dorms, back to ur parents, to the mall. everywhere.

this is totally a best friend to lovers trope.

whenever he’s got doubt he will turn to u immediately because he trusts u and ur guidance. 

will even ask if u could spar with him (so you can a, spend time with him but b, because he wants u to be able to be the best version of urself u can be). 

whenever something goes south he will put his hand out in front of u. always. and you’ll wrap your fingers around his bicep and he will melt.

i think he knows he’s like... fucked because you explain to him that although his ‘hardening’ quirk makes his skin... rough, he’s still pretty soft. and smells nice.

man... that gets him THROUGH THE DAYS.

TODOROKI SHOTO,

another clueless boy. 

is very confused at first but after some hours of research he’s like oh. 

and then shit hits the fan.

like kirishima, really values your input and actually goes to you for advice for two reasons: one because you’re sensible and honest but it’s more for the simple reason that he’s trying to see what you like and don’t like.

you start to notice some changes in his behavior. not drastic ones but enough to raise an eyebrow.

is more vocal in his conversations with you.

tries his best to improve his body language (ie: will face you with undivided attention and arms unfolded to look more receptive) 

just stares at you in general to see what your reactions to things are.

like, in the hallway when ur talking to mina and the lowerclassmen says something stupid and the two of you scowl? well, guess what? now he doesn’t like that guy either and will give him a piece of his mind.

has your coffee order memorized so when ur staying up all night studying u have the energy to do so.

will sneak a protein bar and a water bottle in ur locker the day after those binge studying sessions to ensure that you’re you know okay.

#todoroki x female reader #todoroki headcanons #todoroki x fem!reader #kirishima x female reader #kirishima x fem!reader #kirishima headcanons #kaminari x fem!reader #kaminari x female reader #kaminari headcanons #tenya x fem!reader #tenya x female reader #tenya headcanons #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x female reader #bakugou headcanons #deku x fem!reader #deku x female reader #deku headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #( i really don't feel like i did this well buT I HOPE U LIKE IT FIRST ANON!!!!!!! #I LOVE U!!!!!! #if it's not what u want let me know and i'll redo!!!! ) #: ̗̀➛ first anon. #( shoto todoroki ) / * headcanons . #( eijiro kirishima ) / * headcanons . #( denki kaminari ) / * headcanons . #( tenya iida ) / * headcanons . #( katsuki bakugou ) / * headcanons . #( izuku midoriya ) / * headcanons .

[songbirdstyles]

when the levee breaks

summary: you’re a waitress and harry is being stood up.

warnings: brief smut, angst, fluff, love at first sight <3 kind of

song inspo.: when the levee breaks - led zeppelin

word count: 9.5k

There’s always a particular vibe you get from people going on first dates.

It’s an easy one to notice and you and your coworkers love pointing it out - it’s an air of hope and romance, people arriving dressed their very best yet still holding some sort of awkwardness. It’s sweet, actually, and quite adorable and they’re always the nicest to you, needing to impress their date and make sure they know that they’re respectful. It’s the same reason they leave such a hefty tip - likely wanting to show they’re, at the very least, wealthy enough to tip 20% on a $100 tab and not have it hurt their pockets, or to prove that they respect waitresses enough to help you pay your rent. They’re always the tables you’re desperate to serve, not only for the tip they leave you but because you love getting a clue as to how the date goes, and most times it’s good. Once, you’d heard the guy’s date inquire about kids before their meals came, and they’d left barely minutes after paying their bill. Another time, a couple had arrived at 6 and hadn’t left until 11 on a Thursday night - nearly two hours after closing, and you’d nearly had to shoo them out the door when they weren’t going fast enough.

It varies often, but still - first date couples are your favourite, and when you see him walk up to the host stand, you know he’s another one.

The uncomfortableness is what tips you off, fiddling with one of the numerous rings on his finger as he leans back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting behind an elderly couple hoping to grab a table outdoors for some drinks. He’s dressed well, tucking a loose curl behind his ear and rolling up his sleeves and when he makes it up he’s confirming a reservation f’two, under th’name Harry Styles, please. And the girl at the host stand - the youngest host your boss has hired, you reckon, though you’d need to fact check it to be sure - picks up her pen and crosses his name out in the reservation book, a thick line running through his information and phone number before she’s grabbing a stack of menus (specials, wine, beer, and general, respectively) and telling him to follow me this way, sir as she leads him outside.

Well, you don’t see exactly where Brianna takes him before you remember the four waters that table 306 had asked for, and it’s not like you to get distracted like that by a customer - you’ve been a waitress for nearly three years since starting college and yet, no patron has ever caught your eye like Mr. Harry Styles. It’s a damn paradox, really - you only see attractive guys like him when they’re on dates and, by that point, they’re spoken for. There’s no room for you to mosey in and you wouldn’t do that to another girl, anyway, but still. You suppose it doesn’t matter (he looks wealthy enough to leave a good tip with or without a date, truthfully) but it still has you sighing as you grab four glasses, scooping ice into them and beginning to fill them with water.

Distraction is a bad look on a waitress, your manager had told you the last time you’d gotten distracted by a pretty girl and nearly dropped the plate of pasta you were holding. It makes your smile seem forced. And that was the first month you’d started working, before you’d realized that most customers treated the staff like objects to use to make themselves look or feel better - you’d seldom had to use her advice since then. But there’s a first - or second - time for everything, isn’t there? And he is your second time.

 --

 After you’ve delivered your waters, though, you’re made uncomfortably aware of the fact that Brianna had, indeed, seated Harry in your section. And it isn’t a bad thing, per se, except he is the most attractive man you’ve ever met and you can only imagine what his date is going to look like when they show up - probably dressed to the nines like he is, just a tad too fancy for an establishment like this and you’re sure you’ll feel insecure in your work-issued shirt and jeans but you suppose there’s nothing to do about it.

You try not to make it too obvious as you fix your hair, tying your ponytail higher up onto your head because it had been slipping down and you’re really not a huge fan of low ponytails. Normally you don’t mind but - sometimes the circumstances change. 

He’s at table 305, leaning over his phone, fingers drumming against the table when you walk over to him, clutching two coasters in your hands and he looks up at you with a smile as you approach. And it’s easy - giving the same introductory speech you’ve given thousands of times before, telling him your name and how I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” you question, eyes flickering inconspicuously to the empty seat across from him. He’d pulled it out slightly, angling it out towards the sidewalk in clear anticipation of when his date enters so she can gracefully sit down without having to make a fuss about pulling the chair out - so he’s a gentleman, and it only worsens your moral dilemma at the situation. 

“I’ll jus’ have a water, f’now,” he responds, smiling up at you and you nod, reaching down to rest one coaster in front of him and the other in front of the other seat. “M’waiting f’someone - then I’ll get somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a smile as if you had no idea he was waiting for someone when, in fact, you’d known the second he walked through the doors. Quickly your eyes dart up and down the sidewalk, checking to see if anyone’s walking with their sights set on your restaurant but there’s nobody - perhaps she’s late, or he’s early, but it’s not your place to speculate anyway. “I’ll be right out with that.”

And so you make your way back inside - you have to stop at table 303 because their daughter, so small her legs barely hang off the seat she’s sitting in, has finished her Coke and wants another and you take their dish of risotto balls with you, practically licked clean (in your opinion, they’re the best appetizers on the menu, and you’ve tried just about everything.) 301 got up, leaving nearly half a plate of polpo sitting there and a full untouched bottle of wine and you can recall them specifically declining your request to take their plates earlier, claiming they were still picking at it and clearly they changed their mind - but Brianna’s rushing out to clean everything up before you tell her to, and that’s good of her. She’s new - it’s always good to see the new workers doing well. You’ll tell your manager the next time you see her, you reckon, though you hope it’s not too soon. And then 306 waves you down, seconds away from screaming for you to notice them because the man wants some red pepper flakes to sprinkle onto his pizza and it all stacks up in your mind, but you just smile and nod and turn to rush inside before anyone else can flag you down.

You don’t notice Harry’s eyes on you, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

One Coke and one dish of red pepper flakes later and you’re returning to Harry’s table, resting his drink on his coaster. It’s barely been two minutes since he last requested the water and his initial look of hope and excitement hasn’t faded, even when his eyes flicker down to his phone as though to check for a notification when he thanks you for the water.

Oh, well. Dates are late all the time, and you don’t have time to ponder on it as 304 noisily stacks their plates on top of each other, and you swoop over to grab them before taking them inside. No, it certainly isn’t your place to wonder about the status of his date because you know that you’ve been late to dates too many times than you should’ve, what with classes and work and everything else you have to do in life. You barely have time to date anymore - when you’re not studying so late you can barely keep your eyes open you’re picking up shifts, working your ass off for a paycheck that goes straight to your landlord. You hardly even hang out with your friends anymore and you’re not sure if it’s a healthy sacrifice, giving up your friends to work and study and get far less sleep than the average 22 year old but you don’t quite have a choice, do you?

Maybe his date is in the same situation - you can’t fault her for it. It certainly makes her more relatable to you.

 --

 It’s been fifteen minutes and Harry still sits on his own, nails tapping against his phone screen, turning his head to glance up and down the sidewalk like you had before but there’s no one there to join him. Part of you feels bad as you rest a plate of mozzarella agnolotti in front of the two men at 302 and they dig into it like fucking heathens who haven’t eaten in months, and when you tell them to enjoy they call out thank you with their mouths full, bits of food flying onto the table, and you feel bad for when one of the hostesses has to clean it later.

It’s times like this that you’re thankful to be a waitress and not a host. Those times are few and far between, but they still come.

303 got their entrees and 304 has their check and you don’t have an excuse not to stop back at Harry’s table, even if feeling his eyes on you has your stomach turning and your face heating. Hopefully he can’t notice (and you have gotten fairly skilled at hiding your emotions with a wide smile that’s just about as fake as they come) and your prayers seem to answer themselves when you walk to his table, ducking beneath the umbrella that hangs above the two-top and meeting his eyes.

“You want a refill on that water?” You ask, motioning with a nod down towards his half-empty glass. It’s certainly not low enough to warrant bringing out the water pitcher but you’ll deal with the hassle - going table to table asking if they need refills and all the other shit you have to do because it seems discriminatory when you only offer it to one table. 

He looks up at his glass, tilting his head and screwing up his eyes as though he really needs time to decide whether he needs more water before shaking his head, curls flopping in front of his face as he pulls his glass closer to him. “S’alright.”

“Is your date running late?” And the second the words are out of your mouth you want to smack yourself - you know it’s unprofessional to comment like that especially when it’s that fucking obvious that you’re right. You may as well have asked him if the sky is blue, or if the time really is 6:15. Irrefutable facts are embarrassing to state aloud, especially when it would get you a stern talking to if your manager were to overhear.

But Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor does he seem fazed by your sudden expression like you’d just bit into a lemon. In fact, he takes the comment in stride, resting his palms on the tabletop as he squints up at you - the sun shines behind you and you’re sure it’s in his eyes, and the fact that he took the sunny seat just adds another reason to consider him perfect. “Yeah, she is,” he confesses, twiddling with his rings again, and it’s nearly impossible not to drop your gaze to his fingers and watch him go. “But - y’know - she’s a nurse, an’ all that. Probably just had t’work late an’ forgot t’text. S’alright.”

You’re not sure what to say to that and for a second you stand there in silence as Harry taps his phone, surely checking to see if he’d received a text that hadn’t lit up his phone with the notification but there’s nothing except for the lockscreen - a blurry shot of a black and white cat, face close to the camera and tongue sticking out just so. Instead you clear your throat before saying, “I’ll go grab you some olives.”

“Olives?”

“Yeah - we give everyone assorted olives.” And suddenly, it sounds stupid, like giving your customers olives is something embarrassing when, in fact, it’s customary, but Harry’s looking at you with a certain curiosity, eyes bemused as if you’re entertaining him. “They’re actually quite good. I’m sure you’d like them.”

(In truth, you tried the olives once and had hated them, but you tell your customers that every single thing your restaurant offers is your favourite and the olives are no exception.)

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, then, leaning back in his seat as you duck back out from under his umbrella. “Well, if y’say so, m’sure I’ll like ‘em.”

You smile in agreement and there’s nothing left to add so you head towards the door, wiping your palms on your apron the second you’re inside. You’re sure you’ve had that exact conversation about olives of all things with ten other customers since you’ve worked here but it feels so different with him and it nearly scares you. There’s no reason you should feel so conflicted about a patron on a date who you’ve never met nor seen before but you suppose some things truly are unexplainable.

306 is ready for their check and as you grab a ramekin full of assorted olives you call to ask Brianna to print it out - there’s nobody at the door, anyway, and you need to find an empty dish for the olives, anyway. When you’ve got that and stashed the check in your apron you head back out and Harry’s sitting craning his neck glancing down the sidewalk and you hope, for his sake, that he’s right and she just got caught up at work. (And, for your own very selfish sake, you hope she doesn’t come.)

“I’ve got some olives for you,” you tell him, resting the two ramekins on the table in front of him and he glances down at them with an air of disgust that you most certainly relate to, and your face nearly splits open in a grin. “Well, they’re complimentary, anyway, so if you don’t like them, it’s not too big of a deal.”

“They look divine,” he says, and you know he’s lying but it still makes you smile. “I’ll tell y’how they are.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and that sounds like such a schoolgirl crush response and your face briefly tightens in a cringe before you walk off to 306, pulling their check out and depositing it on their table. None of them even drank their waters that they requested - assholes.

 --

 Holy shit.

You’re really feeling for Harry, now. There’s a new young couple sitting at 301 (certainly not on a first date, you’ll add), holding hands across the table and giggling loudly and they don’t break eye contact even when they place their wine order, and when your eyes flicker over to where Harry’s sitting he’s watching them with an expression that looks just a little like envy. The men at 302 lean over and share a kiss over their pasta and you wish it were socially acceptable to ask every single couple not to fucking look at each other until his date arrives because you can tell it’s killing him - and suddenly, you’re wishing you hadn’t manifested his date not showing up. You’d rather feel the slight tinge of jealousy at watching him woo a girl than feel your stomach turn with every minute that passes without someone taking a seat across from him.

You can practically see the hope leaving his body as a half hour goes by since he’d arrived and he’s still sitting alone, tapping his nails against the condensation that had formed against his glass of water, feet tapping the sidewalk beneath him. The olives sit untouched in their ramekin except for one lonely green out that sits, half eaten, in the empty one you’d given him and after you’ve finished grating parmesan cheese over 301’s calamari and bruschetta, you wrap the cheese back up in its napkin before making your way over to him, ducking beneath the umbrella and sending him a smile that he reciprocates, albeit smaller than it had been before.

“Do you want to put in an appetizer to be here when she arrives?” you ask, pulling your pad and pen out of your apron and watching as he glances down at the menu he clutches in his hands. You know what the answer’s going to be before you’ve even asked the question but it’s unbearable watching him sit doing nothing, and you’re sure he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to eat before a date though you’re not totally positive what kind of guy would - anyway, it’s easy realize he’s yearning for food by the way he’d been sucking on his straw just moments before when you’d been taking 301’s appetizer order, even though all that’s left in his glass are a few measly ice cubes.

“S’fine,” he insists. “I don’t want t’order somethin’ and then have her not like it - y’know?” And he trails his finger along the appetizer section of the menu as if to showcase the amount of options, chest rising and falling in a sigh. You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile as you shut your notepad and slide it and your pen into your apron, smoothing your palms over the front of it again.

“Yeah, I know.”

Then he pushes the olives away from him, ramekins sliding against the tabletop and you grin as you look down at them before glancing back up at him, raising your eyebrows with mock surprise. “I guess you didn’t like the olives, then.”

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes and you almost want to recommend that he put his hair in a ponytail (it seems to get in the way of a lot of stuff for him) but, truthfully, you love seeing his hair down. It looks so soft and luscious and you’re sure it smells spectacular, though you’ll never truly know. “I hated them,” he confesses, and you miss the way his lips turn into a smile as you giggle, sticking the full ramekin into the empty one to make it easier to carry. “D’you seriously like ‘em? They’re horrid.”

You’re supposed to say yes, but you can’t lie to him - not when he’s already having a rough night. “I don’t like them, either,” you agree, scrunching your nose as you look down at the variously coloured olives in your hands. “But, according to my manager, I love everything at this restaurant.”

He laughs at that - a genuine one, too, tossing his head back so his hair falls off his shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. He’s contagious in every sense of the word and you’ve never met anyone like that - you’re smiling with him and feeling your heart break for him all at the same time and you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced it before. “Well, s’good t’know,” Harry says when he’s stopped laughing, swirling his straw around his glass so the ice cubes clink together. “I’ll take your advice wit’ a grain f’salt, shouldn’t I.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you insist. “You’re special.” Your tone is teasing and to anyone listening in it’s clearly a joke but you gnaw on your tongue after the words are out anyway - he just smiles down at the table, scratching the surface with his nails.

“M’glad.” And your eyes scan the rest of your tables on instinct - 306 is up and there’s a stack of plates at 303 that you need to bring inside, but if it were up to you, you’d spend the rest of your day ducked into Harry’s umbrella, listening to him speak. But - well - you’re not being paid to talk to a pretty boy, most unfortunately, and you step out from under his covering to check out your other tables when - “Wait!”

You turn back around and Harry’s leaning back, holding his hand over his eyes to look at you and you take a step back over to him, bending down ever so slightly so you can hear him over the shitty music your boss insists on playing too loud to your outdoor guests. “Could I have a coke, please?” he questions, and you nod. “Thanks.”

Your other tables can wait - you scurry back inside, heading to the service station because you’d rather die than make him wait an extra second longer for his coke. Lauren - the other waitress on duty tonight - stands unwrapping a cheesecake to prepare for one of her tables and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

You shrug and you hope it isn’t painfully clear how your heartbeat thumps against your chest like a damn drum. “Just the guy at 305.”

“Oh.” Lauren pauses where she’s mixing the tupperware container of homemade whip cream to place on the cheesecake as you fill your glass with ice. “What’s his deal?”

“I think he’s being stood up,” you tell her.

 --

 Your suspicion is confirmed the next time you drop by Harry’s table, when he’s chugged his entire Coke and the rest of his water and he simply sits there, scrolling on his phone, and it’s like you can see how his battery has drained.

“Hey,” you call, voice soft as though you’re talking to a child, but you need to assess how upset he is about the situation before speaking in any other manner. You’d made the mistake before, started chatting too cheerfully to a lady being stood up and she’d shouted at you, called you a wench and a bastard and all other sorts of names you couldn’t recall before storming out, leaving a $20 for her three glasses of wine.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“Has she texted you?” you ask, motioning down towards his phone. It’s certainly not allowed to speak to customers in such a casual manner about things other than the menu and whether they’d like to split the check but nobody’s around to reprimand you for bending the rules a bit - why not? 

He shakes his head - it’s what you’d expected but your heart still aches for him and you wish you could reach out, perhaps give him a hug if he’d want it or listen to him rant about the situation. Anything to make him feel better. “S’okay,” he insists, and to his defense he can play the part well. Doesn’t seem entirely too torn up about it and he’s looking at you like you’re a friend rather than his waitress and it makes you feel comfortable. “But - f’you don’t mind - can I order an appetizer now?” You smile, already fishing for your notepad and your pen (a sparkly black one, just for the sake of being fun.) You’re glad he’s getting something and if his date happens to show up, she’d ought to eat whatever he chooses simply as an apology for being over a goddamn hour late. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite?”

The question takes you by surprise but you regain composure quickly, feeling your face and neck heat up because Harry’s staring at you as though you’re some sort of God - like you hold the answer to the meaning of life instead of the best thing on the menu and it makes you feel good. Appreciated. “I love the risotto balls,” you admit, shifting to stand next to him so you can trace your finger along the menu in his hands, pointing to the very first appetizer listed on the page. “And the shrimp and broccoli rabe is delicious.”

“I hope you’re not lying t’me.”

“I told you,” you begin, meeting his small smile with a wider one of your own and it achieves its desired effect - his spreads wider, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re as contagious as you consider him to be. “I’ll never lie to you.”

“And why’s that?”

He’s full of questions. “Because you’re a nice customer.” It’s sort of the truth, though you think you’d scare him away if you told him the full entire truth is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve laid eyes on in your life. “When some customers are assholes, I tell them to get the vongole - it’s horrible.”

He raises his eyebrows at that with another grin, resting his menu down on the table and gazing up at you with his full attention. “Well, I trust you. I’ll get the risotto balls, in tha’ case. An’ then - whenever she gets here, I’ll get something else.”

You murmur sounds good and you don’t have to write it down in your notepad to remember it. You’d nearly gotten carried away with the conversation, nearly forgotten that he’s being fucking stood up and probably doesn’t want you to flirt with him like an idiot because you’re sure acting like one. God, no other waitresses act like this with their customers and you really, truly never have before - yet it’s something about him. You can’t fucking help yourself.

You take his Coke to refill it - he doesn’t ask and you won’t charge him for it. He simply deserves it, and you think that’s reason enough to bring the glass back inside, fill it to the top with soda and deliver it back on top of his coaster the next time you go outside to make your rounds. Harry’s appreciative, naturally, and has no reason to question why you gave him another drink to begin with. For all he knows, your restaurant has free refills, and you’ll let him think that. There’s no reason to make him pay for another drink - he’s having a bad enough day already - even though, when you’d glanced down at the watch adorning his wrist as you’d given him his drink and seen that it’s Gucci. 

No amount of money can buy a first date, you suppose, and you hate yourself for thinking it. You’d give him a first date. A million, in fact. And it’ll never happen but you can certainly dream, and you hope it doesn’t show in your eyes as the men at 302 order a panna cotta and cheesecake for dessert - 301 is digging into their pizza, looking so hopelessly in love with each other, and you catch Harry looking at them again.

The risotto balls are ready for him when you’ve delivered the desserts to 302, and you grab the plate and a block of parmesan and head right out to him. His eyes are on you the moment you step out the door, gaze looking ravenous and he’s most certainly just excited for his appetizer but you still let his watchful eye make your stomach turn.

No parmesan cheese for him - well, that’s fine. You tuck the block under your arm and tell him to enjoy, and he tells you he most certainly will before digging in and it only confirms your suspicion that he was fucking starving. In fact, by the time you’ve finished chatting to 304 about how delicious their gamberetti pizza was, one of the balls on the plate is gone and he’s staring at the second one like a man dying of hunger, but he doesn’t touch it. Surely waiting for his date to arrive to feast on it while he can talk about how nervous he was that she wasn’t going to show up that he was even entertaining the flirtatious waitress.

Gentleman.

 --

 The next twenty minutes are a blur - 304 is up and two tables in Lauren’s section are, too, and you don’t have much else to do so you help Brianna clear and wipe and set them all. By the time you’ve finished and returned the hostess’s grateful smile 302 wants more drinks and a chocolate mousse to split, and you pick up their empty panna cotta and cheesecake dishes and rush them back inside. 301 decides they want their check and they look like they’ve gotten into some sort or argument and you’re almost glad - though you’re sure they’ll be too angry to leave a good tip, you’ll take it if it means it may make Harry feel a bit better about being alone.

It’s 8:15 PM the next time you risk a glance at your phone. Only forty five minutes until you close and there haven’t been any new table sat for the better half of twenty minutes and you pray it stays that way - or, at the very least, they go to Lauren’s section instead of yours. Brianna is clearing 301 (they got up and left in a hurry and, as you’d expected, your tip is a few measly dollars) and your other tables have no need for your assistance yet so you make a beeline to Harry’s table the second you get outside and he’s watching you, sad smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“How were the risotto balls?” you inquire, drumming your fingers against his table. It’s a silly question because anyone with eyes can see how he’d gobbled half of the appetizer up, the other still untouched in their bowl of sauce, ricotta lazily tossed on top of it. You’re sure it’s cold now but you don’t quite mind them when they’re chilly - may even taste better than having them sizzling hot. “Looks like you liked them.”

He nods, pushing the plate away from him as though he can’t stand to be near it. “It’s really good,” Harry tells you and pats himself firmly on the stomach twice to prove it. It’s a silly motion that brings a smile to your lips anyway and you really, truly can’t help it. “M’gonna save the other one f’when she gets here.”

Hope is a good thing to have, you decide, and he’s clearly still holding onto it. You’d never been stood up before but you’re sure you’d have given up on the idea of a first date long before he had and you applaud him internally for that - he’s patient and kind and understanding, you decide. Much more tolerant than anyone else you know would be in this sort of situation and it only adds to the growing desire you have for him, but you push it down - for the sake of professionalism. “Well, that’s nice,” you tell him and he smiles, the expression tight and complimentary. “Can I get you anything else?”

“M’good,” Harry says, “but - can y’show me where the bathroom is inside?” He motions with one swirling finger to the empty glasses in front of him and his grin looks rather embarrassed when he looks back up to you. “Think I drank m’drinks a bit too fast.”

You laugh out loud at that and if he notices that your giggling goes on for just a beat longer than  appropriate, he doesn’t acknowledge it and wow, don’t you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. Laughing at his joke-that-wasn’t-a-joke and feeling your face burn up when you look at him and having your stomach turn when he stands up to follow you into the restaurant and holy hell, he’s tall. You feel embarrassed walking in with him behind you because you’re not sure what he’s looking at, and what if you have a stain on your jeans? Or the back of your shirt? He’s dressed so nice and your face is fucking flaming and you avoid eye contact with Lauren as you point him towards the restroom.

“Thanks, love,” he says, voice thick and heavy as he maneuvers through the indoor tables to get to the restroom and you send him off with a small wave - just a jerk of your hand - and the second he’s out of sight you wipe your palms on your apron again.

Lauren’s making a cappuccino and so you flock over to her, naturally. You can tell she just redid her ponytail because it sits higher on her head and you think you should do that too, so you pull your black scrunchie out of your hair and work on assembling it into a better ponytail.

“That’s the guy from 305, isn’t it?” she questions.

“The guy I took to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh - yeah.” You swallow, bending down to glance into the metal of the espresso machine to see your blurred reflection, making sure your ponytail is as smooth as possible before tying it up. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s nice.”

She hums softly, grabbing a small spoon and stirring the coffee once then twice before resting it inside the cup, already reaching for another cup to begin another. “Are you sure he’s being stood up?”

You scrunch up your nose, leaning back against the counter and tilting your head in slight confusion. “I’m pretty positive - he’s been here for, like, an hour and 15 minutes waiting for a girl and he’s still hopeful that she’s going to come.” And then you sigh, the noise overly dramatic and your coworker rolls her eyes. “Why?”

“He was checking you out, babe.”

You raise your eyebrows, head turning to the side so fast you swear you nearly get whiplash as you stare at Lauren. She simply stands, making her cappuccino as if she hadn’t just blew you away with her observation and you’re sure it meant nothing but it still has your heart thumping violently against your chest and you exhale. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Girl, I was watching - he was. His eyes never left your ass. He almost ran into the door, too.”

“You’re lying.” “Why would I lie? He’s cute, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy?”

“Laur, he’s being stood up. I know he is. He’s not focusing on my ass - he’s probably crying in the bathroom right now.”

She laughs at that, hooking her finger in the handles of the two cappuccinos, steam billowing from both of them like a fire. “Well, maybe he is being stood up, but - I swear to god - he’s into you.” And then she’s walking back down the aisle between tables to reach the front of the restaurant, headed out the door without another glance as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and you stare after her, mouth agape and palms sweating and you wipe them on your apron once more.

 --

 Harry returns to his seat and, for a while, you don’t check on him.

He seems fine, anyway. Decently enough. Sure, his drinks are still empty  in front of him and he leaves that one risotto ball alone and, every so often, he glances up and down the sidewalk before bringing his gaze back down to his phone but it doesn’t quite look like he needs anything.

Anyway, it’s 8:30. Even if she shows up they wouldn’t be able to stay very long and, no matter what, he deserves a fulfilling first date. Maybe she did get caught at work and, when he leaves, they’ll laugh about it. Reschedule it for a different day where he picks her up from her house, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll go ice skating or see a movie. And this entire situation will be something they’ll laugh out and forget and they’ll probably get fucking married, with your luck.

You’d be happy for him, of course. And even though you’ll likely never speak to him again after he leaves for the night, you do want the best for him, though you think the best for him would be you and not some girl who stood him up with no text.

303 is gone after spending entirely too long sitting and chatting and you wave them off with a goodbye and a bright smile, grabbing their check just as Brianna runs out to begin clearing it off. Full glasses of water are dumped into the plants and you help her bring them inside before going to deposit the check - it’s a nice tip and you’re thankful. They’d been a kind enough table but sometimes those are the type to screw you over with the tip and you’re beyond glad they hadn’t - you’ve had a strange enough night without the added weight of no tip.

You head back outside with 302’s check and drop it at their table, returning their grateful smile with one of your own. There’s nowhere else to go or visit besides 305 and so you head over to him, ducking underneath his umbrella for what seems like the thousandth time that day and it’s then that you can see his face, ever so slightly crestfallen as he stares at his phone and your heart just about drops into your ass, and without a second thought you pull out the empty seat across from him and sit.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and you’re fairly certain you already know, but there’s no shame in inquiring further - his phone is clutched in his hand and he looks up at you before clearing his throat and that’s enough confirmation for you.

“She’s out wit’ her friends - they’re at a bar.” And, as if to prove it to you, he slides his phone across the table to you and you crane your neck to glance down at the screen and it’s an Instagram story - a boomerang of four girls clinking their drinks together, and you scrunch your nose. “She’s the one on the right.”

The one on the right is decently pretty - blonde hair straightened and falling down her back, drink spilling over the edges of her glass when she clicks it too enthusiastically with her friends. Her dress is tight and sparkly and nearly overpowers the entire story and you can already make your mind up about how you feel about her and, needless to say, it isn’t good.

“Oh.” You watch the boomerang for another couple of seconds before pushing his phone back over to him and he gives you a tight lipped grin. “I’m sorry, Harry. That really sucks.”

“S’alright.” He shrugs and you can tell it isn’t alright but you don’t say anything else until he adds, “I wasn’t tha’ into her, anyway. M’friend wanted to set us up. I guess she wasn’t really into it but - I wasn’t either. S’all fair.”

Your heart hurts for him - she wasn’t into it but you know he was and before you can think to stop yourself you reach over, resting your hand over his and holy shit. You shouldn’t do that. He can lie and say he doesn’t mind but you know he does and you’re still his fucking waitress - you shouldn’t touch him like you’ve known him any longer than two hours. Just as you go to pull away with a frenzied apology he’s turning his hand around so your palms are pressed together and then he squeezes your hand with a soft sigh and you’re nearly paralyzed at the motion.

It can’t be more than a few seconds that you two sit like that, his hand tight around yours and you can hardly breathe, heart thumping in your chest before he says, “What time d’you close?”

“Uh -” you clear your throat just as he releases your hand and you withdraw it immediately - your hands are sweating and you press them on the table. “We close at 9, but - I only have one more table, and they’re about to leave … so …”

“What else d’you have t’do?”

“All my closing stuff,” you begin, sticking up your fingers as you list each one. “I need to roll silverware, get ice, put the glasses away, take the trash from the bathroom. And then I’ll probably get something to eat.”

Harry nods, gazing almost wistfully into the night as though he’s some sort of philosopher and you lean in, waiting to hear whatever he has to say next - “Could y’eat with me when y’get your food? If y’don’t mind.” And it takes you a moment to react as he adds, “S’just - you’re nice t’talk to, an’ all tha’. But y’don’t have to.”

You swallow thickly, already feeling your stomach flipping and your knee jiggling and you nod - first a quick jerk of your head, up and down, and then faster. 302 is arranging their stuff to leave, grabbing their boxes and shoving their credit cards into their pockets and you wish you could tell them to get the hell out because you can’t start closing until they leave and now you really have a motivation to leave. “Yeah. That - that sounds good.”

It sounds more than good, in fact, and you don’t even care if you’re some sort of rebound to him in this moment - you’ll take it. You’ll eat your dinner with him and then whatever comes after - you don’t care. You just want tonight, or, at the very least, right now, and anything after that is simply a bonus and you’ll deal with it later because he wants to eat with you. He wants to hang out with you. He likes you, and maybe even in that way, too.

You’re standing up uncomfortably fast, nearly tripping over the seat you’d inhabited as you rub your palms together. “Well - um. My other table is getting ready to leave, so I’m gonna - gonna start doing my stuff.”

“Sounds good,” and he’s so casual with it that it sends heat blazing up your cheeks, and you turn to head back inside with a newly found skip in your step that’s too full of joy to be embarrassing.

Brianna’s already begun the silverware when you get inside - with only 2 tables left, there’s no need for her to stay, but you tell her that you’ll roll if she does the other closing duties and she accepts because she’s horrific at rolling silverware. They’re always loose and lumpy and too big or too small and none of you want to tell her because it’s easier to just make pretend like it’s your favorite closing duty to do - well, whatever. She’s gone downstairs to get a bucket of ice before she can ponder on your insistence and you settle in your seat, grabbing a knife and two forks and resting them in the middle of your linen to begin to roll.

You have the motion down nearly to an instinct and it gives you time to glance outside. Through the windows you can see just the side profile of Harry’s face, only slightly illuminated by his phone screen as his lips wrap around his straw, surely sucking on the dissolved ice cubes in one of his glasses and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest - you nearly drop a fork when you go to begin a new roll.

 --

 Your pasta is ready entirely too soon.

You’re finished rolling silverware and the ice is filled and the bathrooms are stocked and clean but you hadn’t emotionally prepared yourself enough to eat with him. But your fettuccine sits, steaming on the counter ready for you to pick up and you stab the ticket once you’ve confirmed it’s yours, grabbing the burning hot plate with your one hand and grabbing a spoon with the other.

You can still see Harry’s side profile when you peer out the window and he’s glancing around, eyes darting from the sidewalk to the door as though he’s waiting for you and you know you can’t keep him alone for another second, so you inhale a deep sigh and walk out the door, pasta in hand.

He just about perks up when he sees you, back straightening and dropping his phone onto the table. You swear he’s about to get up and pull the chair out for you, too, but you beat him to it - duck underneath the umbrella and rest your plate on the table, slipping into your chair with ease and a soft cough into your fist.

(You’re not sick - not in the slightest. It just alleviates your stress, you suppose. Eliminates some awkward silence.)

“Hey,” Harry says, elbows resting on the table so he can look at you in full and you can already feel your body flaming as you pick up your spoon, sifting it through the thick pasta on your plate. Alfredo - God, it’s your favorite. You’ve been trying to branch out and try more things on the menu but it always takes you back to your damn fettuccine alfredo. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

“It’s not weird,” you insist, collecting a spoonful of pasta and bringing it to your mouth. The smell is intoxicating and you pause when the spoon is just an inch from your mouth. “I’m sure you had a rough night.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat as you take a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as though you’re pondering something important. “It wasn’t too rough,” he tells you, and you raise your eyebrows. “It would’ve been bad - but you helped.”

“Really?”

“Sure y’did.” You take another spoonful of fettuccine as he continues. “It sucks t’be stood up, but you were nice.”

“I could tell you were upset.”

“An’ you couldn’t tell you were makin’ it better?”

You think for a moment - think back on the countless interactions you’d had with the near-stranger sitting across from you, pulling the plate with one lone risotto ball over to him - and then shake your head. “I just thought you were being sweet.”

He laughs, reaching for his abandoned fork resting on the side of the plate and cutting in to the second risotto ball - you can tell how much he’d been longing to eat it simply from the expression on his face when he takes the first bite - with a shrug. “Sure I was,” and you laugh at that, ripping the piece of bread on the side of your plate and half and dipping it in the sauce, “but you must’ve realized I like you - didn’t you?”

“Well, I did think it was curious that you held my hand.”

“Y’did it first.”

“Well, the technicalities don’t matter.”

It brings a grin to your face to hear Harry laugh at you, curls flopping in his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he chews on a particularly large bite of his risotto ball. Your pasta is already nearly gone (you’d vastly underestimated how hungry you were) and you scrape the sides of the plate with your bread, collecting all of the excess sauce on the dough. “Was feeling a bit guilty,” you confess, drumming your fingertips on the tabletop, and he tilts his head at you, “‘cause I was starting to feel a bit thankful you got stood up.”

For a moment you wonder if you’d said the wrong thing - if you’ve ruined this entire thing before it’s even started, because it’s an uncomfortably real risk -, but then he’s reaching out to rest his hand overtop of yours and your body overflows with relief. “I agree,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand, and you swallow. “Y’had me prayin’ she wasn’t going to show up.”

You smile, looking down at the table and your empty plate and his half eaten risotto ball that he’s already taking another bite of and it all seems so surreal - like you’re going to wake up in your bed an hour before your shift starts, cursing yourself out for creating such an immersive reality - but nothing about his touch on yours is fake. It’s all so spectacular - so real - and you exhale. “We’re closing in 5 minutes,” you tell him, and his eyebrows scrunch together like he’s seen something he regrets. “Reckon we should take this someplace else?” “Someplace else?”

Your stomach flips and you wonder for what feels like the millionth time this evening if you’d made a mistake - read him wrong - took things too far. It’s an unfortunate habit you have and you certainly wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve put your foot in it this early into the relationship - you’ll regret it, but you regret a lot of things. In a couple of weeks, you’ll forget about it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. But you simply shrug, motioning with your free hand to the empty tables among you both. “I live - um - a couple blocks up the road. If you want to come over. And - it’s fine if you don’t - just putting it out there.”

Harry stares at you, expression nearly blank, for a beat too long and you shift in your seat - but then there’s a smile stretching across his face, and he pushes his half-eaten risotto ball in towards the center of the table. “That sounds perfect,” he tells you, and your heart thumps in your chest once more.

 --

 For the record, you hadn’t anticipated having anyone over to your apartment tonight, and it shows.

There’s dirty dishes from the previous two days piled in the sink, shoes strewn all over the entryway and when you peer your head into the sitting room, your pajamas are strewn over the couch next the wine stain you’d spent hours trying to scrub out. Your face burns as you turn the lights on and Harry steps inside, head turning left and right as he examines your living space and you wish you’d cleaned up after yourself before you left for work - you’ve been meaning to do the dishes - why hadn’t you done them?

“It’s - um - not much,” you begin, shutting and locking the door firmly behind you and motioning with your arms to the entirety of your apartment. “And it’s kind of dirty. I just didn’t expect anyone to come here, or I would’ve fixed it up a bit.”

He smiles, peering at the photos adorning your walls. “Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he insists, bringing his finger up to trail along the high school graduation photo you’d taken with all of your friends until he spots you, smack in the middle, holding up your diploma with a wide grin - you don’t speak to half of the people in that photo anymore, but you love it. Love reminiscing on a time before college and work and rent, where you could just relax with your friends. “Y’look awfully pretty in this photo.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, clasping your hands behind your back as you watch Harry examine each photo. None of them are interesting enough to warrant his level of attention and you’re sure he’s simply trying to be polite but you still appreciate it - it’s nice to imagine that he has that much interest in a photo your mother had taken of you and your dog on a hike. “Do you want me to - to pour some wine or something?”

“That’s alright,” he says, turning around to face you and you glance up at him with a soft smile as he rests his hand on your shoulder, fingertips trailing up and down your arm and sending goosebumps popping up over your skin. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this about a boy and it’s making you fucking crazy, torn between wanting to wrap your arms around him or have him bend you over the counter - you can’t quite decide. 

“Alright.” You roll on the balls of your feet as Harry steps into your kitchen, leaning against the counter with an air of casual arrogance and adoration as he stares down at you. You pad into the kitchen behind him and press your palms to the countertop, lifting yourself up to sit beside him, and you hum softly. “Well - we could talk, then.”

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

He hums at that, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch him, breath caught in your throat, as he pushes himself from the counter, doing nearly a full spin before landing directly in front of you and your knees part to allow him in between them like an instinct - your face heats as he pushes himself closer to you, thighs closing around his waist. “Y’seem nervous,” he says, palms pressing to the counter on either side of your body and you inhale a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not nervous,” you tell him, even if it’s a little white lie. “I just haven’t done this in a while -” and that isn’t a lie in the slightest.

“Ah,” and then Harry nods like some sort of therapist, hands already dropping to your waist, fingertips scratching at zipper of your jeans as if testing the waters. “An’ you’re sure y’want this?”

“I’m positive - please, Harry, I really want this. Wanted this from - from the second I saw you.”

It’s all the approval he needs, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans with ease and you loop your arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift your hips up and he pulls your jeans off and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up by your knees. The next step is your panties, so damp you can tell he feels it through the fabric when he pressed his fingers against you and your hips jerk into his hands, dropping your head into his shoulder as he exhales.

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you, voice low and raspy and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make it sound like that or if it just naturally happens - well, you can’t decide which one is hotter, truthfully. “Jus’ wanna make y’feel good, love.”

“Mhm,” you nod, gnawing on your bottom lip as Harry hooks two fingers in the crotch part of your panties, pulling them to the side and the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt in a way that has your breathing picking up and he pauses, fingers so dangerously close to where you need them. You know he’s going to ask if you’re okay - if you want him to stop - and you don’t, not by a fucking long shot, and you push your hips into his hand as way of answering his unasked question.

Harry takes the hint, of course. He isn’t stupid.

Two fingers circle your clit, spreading your moisture along the sensitive nub like he’s been wanting to do it all fucking night - there’s some sort of desperation to his movements that has your legs tightening around him, head burying further into his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around one of your thighs, hoisting it further up his waist. His breathing is hot against your head as his digits slide up and down your folds and you’re not sure if he’s attempting to tease you or not but, no matter, it’s working. You’re ready to get on your knees and beg for him if you need to, but just as the thought crosses your mind, his fingers dip down to slide in between your folds.

A soft moan emits from your throat as his hand smooths up and down your thigh, fingers dipping just barely into your cunt before pulling out - and he does it a few times, giving you a bit of what you want and then tearing it away and you whine, thrusting your hips into his hands and Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head before sliding his fingers inside of you. Two to start, just to ease you in, pushing them in slow and steady until you can feel his cool rings pressed against your pussy and you throw your head back with a moan.

He pauses, lip still between his teeth as he stares at you, your chest heaving beneath him and body fucking quivering in his gasp. “Tell me how it feels,” he breathes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and you swallow your desperate whine for him to move.

“Feels so good,” you murmur, smoothing your hands up and down his neck as he stares at you as though daring you to break his gaze. “Please, Har -”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me - with your fingers, Har, please - make me feel so good -” and just to top off your request you lean in, crashing your lips so violently against his that your teeth clash and tongues collide, and you can taste everything you’d served him that evening and holy hell it tastes delicious. Perhaps it’s just him, dropping your thigh against the table so he can grab onto the back of your neck and keep your face attached to his, lips parted and wild and dominant as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in with a newfound vigor -

The levee breaks, then, with your lips mashed together, and you’re more than thankful for it.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #loll i actually like this a lot #the smut is rlly rushed bc i didnt want to have any to begin with but i added it in #soz!

[krabstick32]

Girl Code

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Having crushes are hard. Especially when your best friend and the person you like seem to be hitting it off. 

Tags/warnings: very very very light angst, mostly fluff uwu

a/n: first of all, happy new year! school got reaaaal busy, so whew! it’s been a while! not gonna lie, I really missed writing stuff! I got a few days worth of break, so hopefully I get to finish a few backlogged reqs. (I think I only have two left, but to those two, I sincerely apologize for the wait! I’m planning to write them as headcanons to get them out faster, so I hope you don’t mind!)

to @aliaisreal​, thank you so much for requesting and being so patient with me 🥺 i apologize in advance if it’s not very good :(( it’s not my best work, but I hope you still enjoy it and that it’s somehow worth the wait^^

Link to the ask: Request by @aliaisreal​

As the Insect Pillar, and the successor of the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu Kocho was one busy woman. She has a lot of responsibilities on her plate such as slaying demons, concocting medicine, and the like, so it was safe to say that she had no time to babysit anyone but—

“Shinobu!” The door bursts open and one of her… self-appointed responsibilities come prancing right through the threshold. “How about we go out to the village and have some lunch, hmm? My treat!”

Even if her skin felt like it almost flew off in shock, her smile stayed the same as she arranged the papers she intentionally threw around her desk when you came barging through the door. It wasn’t like you immediately coming in shocked her or anything. No, not at all. “Hello to you too, (F/N). Not that I particularly mind, but why so sudden?”

At that, your cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. In your excitement to invite her out to eat, you forgot to greet her first. “Ah, hello. But, back to the topic of lunch!”

Shinobu didn’t really change the topic, but she waved a hand as an indication for you to continue.

“Well, you seem stressed lately. I was hoping to treat you out y’know? And then you could rant and tell me all about it—only if you want to of course, no pressure at all!”

She sighed. For the past few days, Shinobu was starting to get a little frustrated with the current medicine she was trying to make work. On top of that, she needed to handle so many other things, and do missions, check in on patients, cook—well, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was starting to get on her nerves. 

It was no surprise that you were starting to notice because even if you seemed a little too enthusiastic at times, you were still her best friend and a pillar at that—you wouldn’t be here without being exceptionally skilled and observant. Overenthusiasm aside, she—and everybody else included—knew you meant well. 

“I don’t know,” She hums, excited to see how you’ll react. “Are you done with your portion of the work? You looked a little distracted earlier, what with Tomioka-san—“

With the mention of the water pillar’s name, your sweet closed eyed smile turned sour as you immediately placed your hands on her mouth to stop her from continuing that sentence. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m done! You know I don’t slack off. All the patients are fine and I've stitched up the few whose wounds opened.”

She was just teasing. Shinobu was well aware of your skill and work ethic, and while Shinobu was gifted in medicine, particularly pharmaceuticals, you had an uncanny knack for cutting people apart, and stitching them back up again. You were as skilled with a scalpel as you were with a sword.

“I’m just teasing (F/N)-chan.” The Insect Pillar replied, and couldn’t help but want to push more of your buttons as your face seemed to relax at the thought that she wouldn’t mention a particular someone. “But are you sure you’d rather invite me? I’m sure you’d rather ask Tomio—“

If your face was pink before, you were absolutely glowing right now as you put back your hand on top of her mouth. “Shinobu! You know I...you know I don’t like him like that! Besides, I am positive he likes someone else.”

She shrugs your hands off—which were slightly clammy, ew— as she shows you a devilish smile that has you sweating more. “Lie all you’d like, but I don’t think that’s something someone who ‘doesn’t like him like that’ would say, don’t you think?”

Ah, teasing was fun, but teasing you and tomioka were one of the few pleasures in life she made sure to enjoy.

“...Stop teasing me or I will eat without you.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go to that ramen shop in the village.”

Everyone didn’t give the great Inosuke-sama enough credit!

He was raised by boars, grew up in the wild, and treated the mountains like his home. Insouke may have lacked skill in what society normally taught, like proper etiquette, and reading, but the wild was a great teacher on its own, and taught him things he wouldn’t have learned in the company of other humans.

Spending his entire life out in the wild, Inosuke was able to learn how to heighten his senses, particularly his sense of touch, and how to observe. He may have been clueless in the socially acceptable ways to voice out what he sees, what he feels, but Inosuke is perceptive, and that’s what people normally wouldn’t associate with someone who was as stubborn as a rock, and as brash as a beast.

Inosuke—and Kentaro, Nezuko, and Monitsu for that matter—usually spent their time at the butterfly estate. The three of them—mostly Tontaro, really—helped the girls. Cooking, laundry, cleaning, lifting heavy things, were simple chores that they did, and afterwards, Inosuke would often find himself looking for you and Shinobu.

He always felt this...fuwa-fuwa feeling around the two of you, and he thought both of you were like that Gengoro, his sister, and reluctantly Chuitsu.

There was a day where Shinobu was out on a mission, leaving you partially in charge of the butterfly estate, and spending some time with Inosuke. Personally, you found Inosuke to be interesting due to his origins, and overall, he was fun to be around with. Surprisingly, both of you really complimented each other despite being both huge balls of energy and enthusiasm.

That day, you and him were having a little spar by one of the yards around the estate. To an outsider, it was absolutely funny seeing him, who had a more built body compared to your lithe frame, getting thrown off and beaten to a pulp with a wooden stick. If Shuitzu were here to see the spar, he would be laughing his ass off in that pissy, slightly disgusting high-pitched tone at the many times Inosuke was thrown down. Manchiro would probably observe though, and would probably encourage him that he could beat you one day while helping him with his wounds.

Contrary to popular belief though, Inosuke was well aware he couldn’t beat you, at least not yet. Regardless of the way you looked, he could feel it in his skin that you were a formidable opponent who could easily break his bones if you wanted. Seeing your strength for himself was an opportunity he saw where he could get stronger, even if it did frustrate him a little. Or a lot.

“The great Inosuke demands a rematch! A rematch!”he demands, fussing against the ground as you lower your sword and stand up straight from your last breathing form.

“Ahaha, okay, okay! But I’m feeling a little tired…” you pause and place a hand on your chin with a thoughtful look. In a few seconds, you snap your fingers and turn back to him with a bright smile. “Ah! How about we take a break first? Then you could go back to handing me my butt?”

Inosuke knew you weren’t tired and that technically, you were the one handing him his ass. You weren’t heaving a lung out like he was, or sweating bullets. You were the picture of calm and collected, pristine like untouched snow, without a hair out of place.

Inosuke huffs and pushes himself off the ground. “Fine! Insouke-sama permits it!”

“Wonderful! Wait here.” You chirp and pad back into the butterfly estate, leaving Inosuke to unceremoniously plop back down to the ground.

A few minutes pass, and he feels his skin tingle—someone was here, but they didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. It would have felt different if there was.

He looks up from his spot on the ground and spots the hanhan baori guy, his face looking the same as it did the past few times Inosuke saw it. The odd guy was just passing through the gate when Inosuke pushed himself off the floor, wooden sword pointed between Pochioka’s eyes.

“Hanhan Bao—!”

Before Inosuke would have finished his proclamation to fight, you were back standing at the engawa with a tray of sliced fruit, and bamboo cups filled with cool water. “Inosuke? What’s wro—Giyuu! What brings you here?”

Huh. That was odd.

“(F/N)-san.” Inosuke goes uncharacteristically quiet as his eyes darted between the two of you.

It was completely unmistakable. Hanhan Baori’s mouth moved when you arrived. Inosuke honestly thought Dohioka was a magic statue before this day.

You turn to Inosuke and place the tray in a safe spot. “Here, eat first. I’ll just ask what Giyuu needs, and we can spar right after, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay.”

At his response, you give him a warm smile and pat his head (there was that darned fuwa-fuwa feeling again!). He watches as you and Tapioka move a few meters away, settling underneath the shade of a tree to talk, a bit too far away for him to hear.

He doesn’t think he needs to though, because your body language said it all.

Your face was a little flushed, your smile looked even sweeter. Hanhan baori’s mouth was curling upwards in a smile, and his eyes looked fond. A suspicious combination for someone who he previously thought was a statue up until now. But he digresses. He’s never seen you look so...like this. You smiling wasn’t much of a surprise, but with Pachinko around...it was different, and Tochioka seemed more open to boot. There wasn’t much of a doubt in his mind. There was something between you two. He just couldn’t put a name on it—but there was something. Maybe he should ask Monjiro about it.

He munches on the fruit thoughtfully, watching you smile softly—softer than he’s ever seen—as you seem to answer a question Torioka asked you.

Yep, definitely something up between you and Tomioka.

Maybe he should extend his help. After all, the great Inosuke-sama was the kind ruler of the mountains. Pushing you two along would be a piece of cake.

Shinobu catches you pouting by the window in your joint office. It was adorable, considering how your cheeks were puffed, and your eyebrows were furrowed, but with your personality? Sulking wasn’t like you. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Surprised, you jump and turn to find the Insect Pillar with her ever present smile painted on her face. It seems softer though, kinder. “Huh? No, nothing’s wrong!” You disagree, pushing yourself off the chair and tidying up the papers scattered on your desk.

She watches you with a small knowing smile on her face. “What, didn’t see Tomioka-san today?”

You paused for a moment, imperceptible to any outsider, but to Shinobu, who has spent so much time around you, that momentary lapse in movement was enough of an indicator. “...No.”

Hit the nail right on the head!

“You are a terrible liar (F/N)-chan. I thought the two of you were getting along? Should I go put poison in his tea?”

At her suggestion, you turn back as your skin pales. It was largely concerning how easily Shinobu could do that. “What? No! He did nothing, I swear it!”

“Awfully defensive,” The Insect Pillar snickers, before taking a seat on her chair and turning to you. With you pouting at her, Shinobu is reminded of how fun it was to tease you.

“Shinobu-chan.”

“Teasing.” She raises her hands in a move to placate you. Well, annoying you was fun and all, but she was concerned for you, more so than wanting to piss you off. “Anyway—jokes aside, you know i’m always here for you, right?”

You knew that. She was always willing to listen to your problems, but you couldn’t exactly tell her that you’re trying to distance yourself from Giyuu because he liked her.

Truth be told, you were getting along with Giyuu, so much so that you’ve started to like him as more than a friend. But, you cared for Shinobu and you wanted her to be happy. She and Giyuu made more sense than you and him.

“...Yes.”

“And that I love you like a sister, right?”

Despite all the teasing, you knew Shinobu really cared for you. She may like to push your buttons, but oddly enough, it reminded you of one of your siblings, so you didn’t mind. Just like your relative, you knew they did it because they wanted to distract you from your problems. An odd way of doing it, but they really would have gotten along.

“Yeah.”

“And that I can easily kill a man and hide his body?”

“Shinobu-chan!”

She laughs, the sound very similar to bells, and you can’t help the bitter thought that maybe Giyuu liked someone with a mellow voice like hers. “Kidding! Kidding! Well, kind of on that last one.”

You pout, and she brushes off her statement with a near irresistible bribe. “Alright, how about we go get some food? My treat.”

Awfully tempting. But there was still one more concern in your head.

“No poison?”

“Have more faith in my, (F/N)-chan!” Giggling, Shinobu slides the door open, and beckons you over. “Now, let’s go—I’m sure you’re hungry!”

“You didn’t answer my question!” You say, trailing after her in mild worry, feelings momentarily forgotten as the thought of food replaces it.

It was any other early evening in the butterfly estate when the Water Pillar barged in through the doors, blood dripping from an open wound on his chest, with the oddest expression on his face.

Maybe what should have alarmed the butterfly girls were the deep scratch marks on his chest. Instead, it was the near half-crazed look on his face. Tomioka-san’s face never moved from it’s impassively cold stare, why was now any different?

“Where is she?” He rasps.

Aoi, who was standing at the entrance with Kiyo upon his arrival, was brought out of her shock. “Tomioka-sama, lie down. Kiyo will lead you to a room and I’ll get Shinobu-sama immediately to take care of your wounds.”

“No, where is she? Where’s (F/N)—”

From the end of the hall, you came down to see what all the huff was about. You were taking inventory of the supplies since it was a little slow today, but the ruckus urged you to go out and take a look.

“Giyuu? What’s going on he—ohmygods, Giyuu, are you alright?” Seeing Giyuu pale—well, paler than normal—and bleeding all over the floor was not what you expected though.

“(F/N)...” Seeing her alive and breathing eased Giyuu’s worries, so much so that he sags in relief. He would have dropped down the floor if it weren’t for your quick reflexes.

Lightly, he feels you press a hand to his head, wiping the sweat forming on his brow. 

“Giyuu? Stay with me, we’re going to fix you right up, ‘kay?” There was no doubt in his head that you could. He’s been in much worse really. The blood loss just wasn’t doing him any favors.

Regardless, he shakes his head and just savors you being here, warm and alive.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Dead? Who, me? No, silly! I just sprained my ankle, so walking’s a little hard, but i’ll be fine!”

“I thought I was going to lose you...” He was starting to babble. The blood loss was starting to affect him more than he’d thought.

“Lose me? Don’t worry, I’m not going away any time soon.”

“Good…” Giyuu breathes out a sigh of relief. He liked the thought of you living for a long, long time. “I like you a lot.”

With that admission, his head slumps over your shoulder, and his body gets heavier, prompting you to nearly drop him with the weight of his sudden confession and his mass.

Aoi and Kiyo watches, shocked beyond words as your face continuously gets redder and redder. Whether it was from the exertion, or his words, well, everyone knew exactly what was causing you to look like a freshly plucked apple.

“H-Hah?! Wait, Giyuu? Giyuu!”

And that is the sight that greets Shinobu. She was back from a report to Oyakata-sama, so seeing you all red and flustered with a fully grown man who was bleeding all over her floor and who was about to fall over and kill you—with his weight, or with his words, Shinobu could easily guess which—was an especially unusual sight, but unfortunately, not really unexpected. And mildly infuriating.

“Tomioka-san, you total dunce! Get treated first! Ugh, (F/N)-chan, don’t let him fall, he’s losing blood!”

“Ow—“ Giyuu grunts, the bandage being wrapped around his torso a little too tight for his taste.

“Tomioka-san.” Shinobu starts, her hands continuously steady as she wraps the bandages with precision and efficiency around his chest. “I don’t think we’ve had a heart to heart chat about (F/N)-chan, don’t you think?”

After Giyuu’s surprise confession, you and Shinobu were able to drag him to a nearby room. He was passed out cold, and between you two, carrying a fully grown man would still be difficult, even if you’ve both had special pillar training.

He woke up a few minutes after you were done stitching the open gash at his stomach which caused his bloodloss (and slightly embarassing fainting spell). These unfortunate series of events have led him here, painfully being bandaged by none other than Shinobu. It wold have been nice if you were the one doing it, but Shinobu sent you to go look for more bandages with this sickly sweet look in her eyes—which you barely noticed in your worry. The worry was sweet, but now he knows Shinobu’s motives. Interrogstion.

Giyuu could do nothing else but nod, doing his damn best to not flinch, and keep still.

“You see, she really likes you, you know? I’ve never seen (F/N)-chan happier than she is when she’s with you. Honestly, I don’t know why she does, and what she sees in you but I like seeing her happy. You and I both know that she deserves it.”

Giyuu watches her wrap the bandages with practiced ease albeit with a little more force than necessary. Hearing Shinobu talk about you so fondly has him feeling grateful that you had someone who cared so deeply for you, and who was so willing to do anything to keep you happy. Even if the brunt of her attacks did fall on him, he could understand where she was coming from.

“She does,” Giyuu says, surprising Shinobu as she finds the softest, most fondest look she has ever seen on Giyuu’s immovable face. For a moment, Shinobu could see that he cared so much for you—as much, if not more than you cared for him—and she knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.

Unbelievable. She can’t believe he passed her test so easily.

She lets out a heavy sigh, turning back to the task at hand with a saccharine smile ready on her face.

“All that said, If you hurt any part of who I see as my beloved sister, I'll make sure to use my medical expertise to ensure you don’t get a chance to spread your genes—”

The door slides open with a nice loud clack, preventing Giyuu from hearing the rest of Shinobu’s sentence. Just as well too. He doesn’t think he’d want to hear the rest.

“Shinobu-chan! I’ve got more bandages for Giyuu!”

“Ah, thank you, (F/N)-chan!” The Insect Pillar smiles, taking one of the fresh bundles you offered, as you moved to the side of the room, arranging the medical supplies for easier access.

Shinobu leans down, under the guise of tying the gauze, as you flit around the room, spreading sunshine in your trails. None of you mention how you blatantly avoid eye contact with Giyuu. But it’s not like he’s initiating any either.

“I don’t think I need to continue my sentence.” She mumbles under her breath. “Do you understand?”

Giyuu winces as she tucks in another piece of bandage, grumbling in response. “Loud and clear.”

BONUS:

Later that night, Shinobu left the two of you alone in Giyuu’s hospital room to talk it out. It was a little awkward at first, but as the two of you melt the ice, your usual sunny personalty—ironic, as you were the Snow Pillar—takes over. Throughout the course of the evening, you take out his hand with his permission, and have the time of your life holding it. It was a little funny how stiff and unused he was being at hand holding, but you found that to be one of his unexpected charms. And it wasn’t like he was complaining. He actually found it adorable how small your hands were, and how it fit really well against his own.

“So you don’t like Shinobu?” You ask a little shyly, playing with the tips of his fingers.

Against your skin, you feel him shiver in disgust as he looks slighty disgusted by question. “Gods, no, never.”

“So you were serious about liking me? It wasn’t a joke?”

“I don’t think I’d joke about that in my final moments.”

You giggle, feeling a little silly for even questioning it. But really, you don’t think you could be blamed for it. “You have a point.”

The two of you stay in comfortable silence for a while. He watches you trace vague shapes against his palms and he’s never felt so at peace before, than he did at this moment. After a while though, a curious thought strikes him, and he can’t help but want to ask.

“...What made you think that?”

The tips of your ears stain pink before you look away and bring one hand to your cheek. “Well I thought you two liked each other, and it seemed like she suited you much better than I would.”

“I only ever liked you. I thought I was being obvious.”

As blunt as ever.

“Ahaha!” You laughed, getting flustered in spite of the warmth pooling into your chest. “Well, I guess not enough for me.” It’s not as if you were able to notice. You did think he liked Shinobu after all. “By the way, why did you think I was going to die?”

He look up at the ceiling. “One of Tanjirou’s friends...that boar kid told me you couldn’t walk, and that you couldn’t move.”

“Inosuke? Oh, that…that actually makes a lot of—a lot of s-sense!”

Giyuu watches you fondly as you laugh. In your defense, the thought of you spraining your ankle being blown out of proportion by none other than Inosuke was funnier than you ever expected.

“Don’t laugh.” Giyuu pouts. It was the most adorable thing you’ve seen. “By the way he said it, I really thought you weren’t going to live to see another day.”

You breather deeply, giggling a little as you look at him with mirth and happiness dancing in your eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll explain it to him tomorrow. But I guess I should thank him. If you weren’t nearly half-dead on your feet, neither of us would have confessed.”

“Yeah. I‘ll go with you.”

“Cool! Cool...Um, Giyuu?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe… perhaps, say that again?”

“Say what, again?”

“That you like me?”

Giyuu chuckles, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I like you.”

He’d say it a million more times if he gets to see you smile like that again.

“Heehee, I like you too Giyuu!”

a/n: i got a little sick of rereading this so many times, so, apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes!! i hope ya’ll liked it though uwu

also, are any of you playing genshin impact? man, that game saved my sanity, and at the same time caused more insanity....it’s fun.

if u guys wanna play, feel free to send me your uid’s! i’m at world level 6 so i can go into most worlds :^)

#giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #tomioka x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu giyuu #kimetsu tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #giyuu #giyuu tomioka #giyu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #fluff #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

[petersasteria]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Tom Holland

Disney || Tom || Main || Taglist

In true K style, ‘tis an AU where Tom isn’t famous. Requested? Nah 1,308 words

"𝐖𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐟"

2017

“You’re breaking up with me?” Tom asked and you could only nod. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak after breaking his heart like that.

“I just, I-I can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t get it.” Tom said as he stared at you with a confused expression.

“What don’t you understand?” You sighed as you rubbed your face.

“The reason.” Tom said bluntly.

“I’m breaking up with you because our schedules don’t match, alright? Plus, you don’t even sleep anymore just so you can talk to me and I can’t do this long distance thing anymore.” You looked at Tom through the screen as he nodded, hopefully and finally understanding your reason for leaving him.

“I see.” Was all he said.

“Maybe we could try again someday, but until then I’m letting you go. You deserve someone who’s there with you and someone who can cater to your needs, okay? I can’t do that because I’m miles away from you.” You elaborated.

“I get it, I do; I really do. I respect your decision, but I’m afraid I won’t do that.” Tom shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll wait for you. I don’t care how long it’ll take, but I will. I know we’re young. Heck, I just turned 21. Regardless, I know that you’re the one for me.” Tom said seriously.

“It’s too early to tell.” You chuckled, but nothing was funny. The tension was thick, though. You just wanted to lighten it.

“When you know, you know.” He shrugged. “I’ll wait for you, count on that.”

“And I doubt that.” You smiled a bit. “You’re allowed to be with different people, so go. But if you really don’t want to, it’s your choice.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye now.” You said.

Tom smirked and shook his head, “See you in a few years when we see each other again and you finally realize that we’ll end up together eventually.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and ended the call.

2018

“Hey, it’s been awhile.” Tom said through the phone. You didn’t expect him to call you and he didn’t expect you to answer.

“Yeah, hey.” You chuckled. “What’s up?” 

“Not much.” Tom shrugged as he walked around his dorm. He took a break from studying for his finals. He’s a marketing student.

“Okay, so why’d you call?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed.

“I thought I should check up on you. You’re my girl, after all.” Tom said smoothly.

“Your g- We broke up last year, Thomas.” You laughed. “I can’t possibly be your girl.”

“You were and still are. Like I said, I’ll be waiting for you and I still stand by that.” Tom said as he stretched. “Anyway, I’ll go now. Talk to you soon!”

“Okay.” You snorted and hung up.

2019

“I was never informed that you’re back.” A voice said from behind you. You turned around and saw Tom looking great as ever. He gave you a small smile and you smiled back.

“Hello to you too.” You said. “It was really sudden. I didn’t expect to move back here either.” You shrugged.

You and Tom talked and walked around the city. He kept calling you nicknames that he used to give you when you were dating and he didn’t address anything, so you didn’t either. If it made him happy, who were you to take that away from him?

2020

“So what’s your status?” Your friend, Elouise, asked. You were at one of your friends’ weddings and you went there without a date. It wasn’t required, anyway. 

“What do you mean?” You chuckled. “I’m single.”

“Yeah and Tom’s also single.” Angelica, your other friend, chimed in. “It must mean something.” The rest of your friends hummed in agreement and started bringing up topics about Tom.

“Okay, okay, stop. Please, stop. I’m happy to be single and I want to just casually date right now.” You lied. At this point in your life, you don't know what you want. You were confused.

“Cut the bullshit.” Hanna said.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Kate, your friend whose wedding it is, asked. “Just because I’m married doesn’t mean you have to leave me out. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You smiled at her.

“Cut the bullshit.” Kate said.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Hanna exclaimed. “Anyway, Y/N’s confused about her love life, but we all know it’s T-”

“It’s Tom. You’ll end up with him anyway and don’t be shy to admit that! He’s a catch and he’s very successful in his marketing thing.” Kate said.

“How do you know about that?” Sophia asked.

“We’re friends.” Kate waved her off. “But that doesn’t matter.” Kate turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder, “I want you to be happy and I want you to choose whoever you want to end up with. I’m just saying that you’re the happiest when you’re with Tom and it’s time for you to realize that.”

“Amen.” Elouise nodded. “Deep down we know that you still want him. You may deny it now, but you’ll admit it eventually.”

“Yeah and the dude hasn’t stopped chasing after you. You’ll be sorry once he stops.” Hanna said softly. “I care about you and I love you, but you’re really dense.”

You chuckled lightly and said, “Gee, thanks.”

2021

A year has passed and you ended up having two boyfriends in the span of one year. Both of it never lasted long enough for you to introduce them to your parents. You were okay now, though. You were enjoying the single life, but you’re already 24 years old and you already want to find someone to settle down with. You were in your apartment in London and despite it being 10PM, you wanted to walk around to clear your head. Being a journalist is hard, after all. As you were walking around, you bumped into Tom.

“I’m so so- Y/N!” Tom beamed. He quickly pulled you in for a tight hug and you were happy to return it. “ I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too! You have no idea.” You hugged him tighter before pulling away. “So, how are you?”

“I’m alright, and you?”

“Great!” You smiled, for real.

“You dating anyone?” Tom asked with a playful look on his face. You shook your head and asked him the same thing. He shook his head too and he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s just that I told you years ago that we’ll eventually end up together. This is it.” Tom smiled.

“How are you so sure?” You questioned.

“Because you’re not seeing anyone and I haven’t dated anyone ever since our breakup. Like I said before, I know and I’m sure that you’re the one for me. I love you, Y/N.” Tom said. “Do you love me?”

“I love you and I care about you. I guess I always have. I just realized it now.” You said in realization which made Tom chuckle.

“That’s alright.” Tom shrugged. “So, let’s do this the right way. Let’s pretend that I haven’t seen you before.”

“Alright.” You laughed. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Tom.” He chuckled. “Care to join me for a late night drink?”

“Sure. Why not?” You smiled at him. Tom led the way and you walked beside him. You walked together in silence and after a while, you knew you had to ask a certain question that bugged you.

“So, you never dated anyone else after me?”

“Nope. I love you.”

“Even when I pushed you away?” You asked.

He nodded, “Even then. I loved you before and I love you now. The past doesn’t matter now. Let’s just start over. Is that okay?” He looked at you for confirmation.

“Yeah.“ You nodded. “Starting over is good.”

* * * *

“I Won’t Say I’m In Love” is officially done.

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @sarcasticallywitty15 @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries  @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @holland-parkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker  @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott  @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow

#tom holland #tom holland one shots #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #k's disney animated requests #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[pitubea1910]

10th Anniversary

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: -

Tags: -

Request: -

Notes: I was supposed to post this for their 10th Anniversary but I totally forgot about it and just found it on my drafts! So I hope you like it :)

MASTERLIST

The moment you woke up you knew what day it was without even looking at the calendar.

July 23rd 2020.

10 years. It had been a whole decade since all the craziness started. Looking back now, you would have never imagined everything you all had gone through in that time, how much you had grown up -together and separated-, how much your lives had changed.

You were a 15 years-old-girl when you met them thanks to your aunt Lou. When you first laid eyes on them, you just saw five loud and unstoppable guys. You would have never imagined that you would find four brothers and something else in them.

However, there you were, 10 years later, checking your Twitter timeline with a stupid grin on your face. It looked like 2012 all over again and you loved it. You missed those times like crazy. Of course, you knew the hiatus was coming the moment Zayn left the band -and they had earned every single day of it-, but that didn’t change how much you missed them all.

Even though you had kept in touch with the five of them it wasn’t the same. They were all busy with their own solo projects and they barely had the time to meet up. You couldn’t blame them, but you still missed them. Especially the green-eyed one.

Harry and you immediately clicked when you met. It turned out you had a lot in common and similar personalities. You had a tight relation with the whole group, but what you and Harry had was special. Probably it helped that you were the same age. But the truth was that it didn’t matter the reason, you were always together.

Everyone who saw you together and knew how your relationship was just kept on saying that you two would end up together. It turned out they weren’t completely wrong, although it never worked out the way you would have wanted. You were a couple for less than a year. It was the best year of your life and the worst break-up you ever had.

You loved him and he loved you, there was no doubt of that, but it was too complicated to keep it going. As much as you loved touring the world with them, spending every single day with Harry, you also needed a life of your own, you wanted to go to college and doing it from afar didn’t work for you. It was the hardest decision you ever made, but everyone understood and supported you. Harry the most.

It broke his heart as well, but he knew he couldn’t ask you to keep with his lifestyle. He had to let you go. You gave distance a chance, but with their schedules and the time zones it soon became impossible. You remembered the last FaceTime you had, how heartbroken you both were. But it was for the best.

You never lost contact though. Every single time he would come to London he called you to spend a day together. Those days ended up being the best days of the year and they usually ended with you two going back to his place and spending the night together. And every morning your heart broke knowing you had to say goodbye again. But you kept on coming back to him every time his name showed up on your screen.

Usually he was the one who reached out, which made sense since he was the one who was travelling all the time. That morning, that July 23rd, was different. You texted first for the first time in a long time.

Happy 10 years, Styles. Wish we could celebrate together. Love you.

You gulped before sending the text. He was probably in the States and he wouldn’t see it for another few hours, so after sending some other texts to Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn, you got out of bed and headed to the shower. Usually, you would have to hurry to get to your internship, but with the pandemic you still didn’t have to go, so you had another day completely off.

However, before you got into the shower, you heard your ringtone. You frowned confused. It was way too early for your mum to be calling, so you had no clue who could it be. Maybe it was your boss, giving you an update on the status of your internship. With a sigh, you turned on the water and went back to the room, hoping it would be a quick call so you could go back to your shower.

You took the phone without even looking at the phone and answered it.

“Hello?” You said as you started walking back to the bathroom.

“Happy ten years to you too, love”, a deep known voice said on the other side, making you stop on your tracks as your heart started racing.

Quickly, you checked the caller and saw Harry’s name. He was probably the last person you expected to talk to that day.

“Thanks”, you finally managed to say when you put your phone against your ear.

“I’m guessing you didn’t expect my call?” He said. Judging by his tone, you knew he was smirking, which made you smile.

“You guessed correctly”, you admitted. “How are you awake?”

“I was out for an early run”, he said, making you frown.

“Wait, are you in England?”

“In London to be more accurate”, he said.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“So maybe we can also make the celebration happen”, he said.

“Really?” You repeated. “I mean, yes! That would be great!”

You smacked yourself on the forehead for being such a nerd. He chuckled quietly before saying he had to make some calls during the morning, but he could pick you up at noon to have some lunch. You said yes immediately. Most of the restaurants were still closed, but he was Harry Styles. He always had a trick up his sleeve, and you couldn’t see what he would pull off that day.

Since you woke up way too early, the morning went off slowly. Or maybe it was just you being impatient. However, you finally got a text from Harry saying he was parked outside of your building. You grabbed your purse with the basic stuff -wallet, keys and phone- and a mask. Once you were sure you had locked the door properly, you went to the elevator.

Usually, he would wait for you in his car in case some recognised him. So it shocked you to see him casually leaning against the vehicle when you walked out of the building. When he heard you, he looked up from his phone. You couldn’t see his whole face due to the mask he was wearing, but his eyes told you he was smiling.

Despite all the precautions and distancing you were supposed to take, you knew it wouldn’t work with him. He was like a magnet and all you wanted to do was hug him and have him hugging you.

“Can I hug you?” He asked.

The fact that he was thinking the same as you made you laugh. All you did was hugging him tightly. He could always hug you, no matter what. He was the exception to every rule.

“I missed you”, you said with your eyes closed, which made him squeeze you a bit tighter.

“Me too”, he whispered.

You spent a couple of minutes just holding each other before he pulled away and opened the passenger door for you. You thanked him with a smile and got into the car and buckled up while he walked around the vehicle to get in before taking off the mask. You did the same and looked at him, the whole him this time.

“I love your hair short”, you said.

Harry looked at you with a dimpled smile and ran a hand through his hair -an old habit he didn’t seem to be able to shake but you loved- before turning on the engine.

“How long has it been?” He asked once he started driving.

“Christmas, I think”, you said after thinking about it for a moment. “Hans’ Christmas party before you went back to the States.”

“Right”, he said and looked at you, making you blush and smile at the memories of that night. “How have you been?”

“Locked”, you chuckled making him chuckle as well. “But good, I finished my thesis, watched a lot of movies and TV shows and baked. A lot.”

“You’ve always been good at baking”, he said.

“And you’ve always been good at eating”, you teased, making him laugh. “What about you?”

“I got stuck in the States until a few days ago”, he shrugged. “Didn’t do much either.”

“Sorry about your tour, by the way”, you said when you remembered. “I was excited.”

“Me too”, he sighed. “But some stuff are more important.”

You smiled a little and nodded to yourself. This pandemic had been, and was been, a wreck all around the world. As usual, you reached out to turn on the radio, which made Harry smile to himself. Ever since the first time you had got into his car, all those years ago, you would always start the music, no matter what. At first, he was surprised you took such confidences in someone else’s car, but he soon loved that detail about you.

“How is it going with your internship?” He asked when the song that was playing on the radio ended.

“I’m on furlough”, you shrugged and sighed. “I got an email last week saying some people would start coming back to work soon. But I don’t think that includes interns.”

“I wouldn’t be in a hurry if I were you”, he commented as he checked the mirrors. “You don’t have a car to go to the office and I wouldn’t be too excited about getting into the tube.”

“I could always get a bike”, as soon you said that you both started laughing. You were the less sportive person you had even known. “Yeah, that was a good one.”

“Indeed”, he chuckled.

“I’m not in a hurry to go back”, you shrugged. “But it’s boring.”

“I know”, he sighed and looked at you for a moment. “But at least now we have time to hang out.”

“Like old times”, you smiled. Harry smiled softly and nodded.

“Like old times.”

“Where are we going by the way? Most restaurants are still closed”, you said.

You had been so focused on talking to Harry and watching him drive that you hadn’t been paying attention to the streets, so you had no idea where you were going.

��My place”, he said, surprising you. “My new place, actually.”

“You have a new place?” You asked even more surprised.

“Yeah. Too many people knew about the house in Hampstead. It was annoying”, he sighed. “Hopefully, no one will find out about this one.”

“But you loved Hampstead!”, you pouted. You loved that house too, to be honest.

“I didn’t sell it”, he shrugged with a smile. “I just don’t use it as official residency.”

“Good”, you smiled now. “So… your place.”

“You’re okay with that?” He asked a bit concerned.

“Oh yes! I just assumed we would to some restaurant”, you shrugged.

“I thought about it”, he nodded. “But even if they’re open, I feel bad for the people who have to work in them, so I guess it makes their lives less anxious with less customers.”

“Always so thoughtful”, you commented.

“Can’t help myself”, he said, his cheeks blushing a little.

You smiled sweetly and looked out of the window, now curious to see where he had moved to. Judging by the zone, you were in the south of London, although you couldn’t figure out exactly where.

Finally, he drove into a subterranean parking in a big brick building. The parking didn’t have many cars, which led you to believe that he didn’t have many neighbours. Harry parked at the very end of the place and, once he turned off the engine, you unbuckled yourself and got out of the car.

“Quite big for a few cars”, you commented looking around.

“I know”, he laughed after locking his car. “It’s a new building. Probably is four years old, so not many people live here yet. And those who do, have more than one car so…”

“You have more than one spot?” You asked.

“Those three are also mine”, he said pointing.

You smiled when you saw the familiar black Range Rover in which you had been so many times over the years. The other two spots were empty, but you knew he had the cars to fill them.

Without saying anything, he started walking to an elevator you hadn’t seen at first sight. You followed him while you checked your phone before throwing it into your bag for the rest of the day. When you got into the elevator, you looked around at how new it looked.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“A couple of years”, he shrugged and you nodded. “I was the second one to move in.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Nice”, you chuckled.

It didn’t surprise you when the elevator opened at the last floor. He had always liked high places and he had always said that he would love to live in a penthouse someday. It looked like he had fulfilled another one of his fantasies. As you stepped out, you saw that there were only two doors. Private.

“I’m the only one in this floor”, he commented. “These two places are the most expensive so”, he shrugged.

“More silence for you. Imagine a family with three children living across the hall”, you said.

“You would go crazy”, he laughed.

“Definitely”, you smiled a little.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like kids. You did. But when there were many of them, you got a bit nervous, especially if they were loud.

Harry took out a keychain and put it in front of where a locker should have been. It beeped and he pushed the door open. He looked back with a cocky grin.

“Snob”, you mumbled when he let you walk in first.

“Hey!” He laughed.

He took your bag and hung it next to the door while you looked around in awe. It was an open-space living room and kitchen, surrounded by huge windows from where you could see Vauxhall Bridge and the other side of the Thames. It was all decorated in cold colours, but it wasn’t a cold environment. He had managed to give his personal and warm touch.

“What do you think?” He asked standing behind you, a bit more closer than what you expected.

“Much better than Hampstead”, you admitted.

“You think so?”

“There’s no way teenage girls will camp just outside your door”, you shrugged.

“Good point”, he laughed. “Come, I’ll show you the balcony.”

“I’m not a big fan of heights”, you reminded him while he was dragging you by your hand.

“I won’t let you go”, he said.

Saying no to him was an impossible task. There was nothing you could deny to him, not when he gave you that dimpled smile that you loved so much.

To be honest, the views were breath-taking, it couldn’t be denied, but you didn’t go too close to the edge just in case and Harry didn’t push you. All he did was hold your hand tightly.

“I have to confess something”, he said after a while.

“What is it?” You asked quietly.

“I haven’t cooked anything. I was praying you were craving pizza”, he said, making you laugh out loud.

“I’m always craving pizza, you idiot”, you said giving him hand a gentle squeeze before going back inside.

He followed you inside but left the door open. While he ordered the pizza, you walked around the living room, checking out the photos he had framed and also the vinyl collection he had. You smiled a little when you saw that he had all One Direction CDs there as well, as vinyl.

When you started looking at the photos, the first one that caught your eye was one of the two of you, so many years ago, in the tour bus. You took it from the chest it was on. You smiled warmly as you remembered all those long hours stuck into the bus. Somehow, they all managed to make it fun.

In the photo, you and Harry were laying down on one of the sofas, sleeping while facing each other. You were cuddled up against him while he had one hand on your waist, hugging you, and the other one stretched over your head. You remembered having that photo as your lockscreen for so long.

“I think that’s my favourite.”

You hadn’t expected Harry to be just behind you. You hadn’t even heard him coming close to you, so you gasped and almost dropped the photo, but he was quick enough to catch it.

“So I would appreciate if you didn’t break it”, he chuckled.

“Sorry, you scared me”, you said.

“Sorry”, he said too and looked down at the photo before putting it back on top of the chest. “We really had fun that tour, didn’t we?”

“Wasn’t it the one when we started dating?” You asked. He nodded and turned around to walk to couch. “It really was fun.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked all of sudden.

You chuckled and looked down before shaking your head. It was a question that always came up between you two. If the answer was positive it changed the whole mood of the time you spent together. It wasn’t like you didn’t want each other to date other people, but it still hurt to see it.

“Are you?” You asked.

“No”, he said and looked at you before smiling a little.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that”, he said and looked down at his hands. He started playing with his rings, which he used to do whenever he got nervous.

“About what?”

“Us.”

“Oh…”, you gulped and looked down as well.

You always feared when he brough that up. Usually it was because he was seeing someone, so you guessed this time wouldn’t be different, even though he had just said he wasn’t seeing anyone. You bite your lip and nodded.

“Okay”, you whispered.

“I was going to wait until after we ate but since it came up”, he shrugged.

“You brought it up”, you quickly said.

“Good point”, he chuckled.

“Anyway”, you looked at him. “What is it? What’s her name?”

“Her name?” He asked confused. “I’m… I’m not seeing anyone. I told you.”

“Really?” You frowned, even more confused than him. “I just- Every time you want to talk about us, it is because you’re seeing someone.”

“Oh… I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest”, he said thinking about it before laughing a little. “It’s not the case now”, he shrugged.

“What is it?” You asked now curious but also fearful. What if he said he didn’t have feelings for you anymore?

“You know how we have always said that we can’t be together because of how messy my life is, right?” He asked and you nodded, having no clue where he was going with this. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and you were right about it back then. When I was in the band. Now it’s different.”

“How? You still have the same job”, you shrugged. “And I don’t want you to have a different one”, you quickly added.

“Yes, but I’m not touring all year long”, he explained. “Now I can take my time. It’s been two years since I dropped my first solo album and only last year, I dropped Fine Line. Yes, when I’m on tour I spend a lot of time on it, but I also have a lot of time between one and the next. Especially now that it’s been postponed.”

“Harry”, you interrupted him. “Go to the point”, you chuckled.

“Yes, sorry”, he smiled a little. “I want to give it, us, another chance.”

Your mind went completely blank as he said the words. You had no idea how many times you had dreamed about this and, now that it was right in front of you, you didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, you felt scared, confused, lost. You loved him? Of course you did. Was this a good idea? You got no idea. You only knew that the first time almost broke you and you didn’t know if you were ready to go through that again.

Although it could work out this time, a tiny voice inside your head said.

What if it didn’t? What if you just didn’t work as a couple?

Luckily for you, just then the bell rang.

“Pizza!” You exclaimed and got up, relieved to have some time off from that conversation.

Harry looked at you as you ran to the door, obviously running away from him at the moment. He had no idea what to think of that. Did that mean you didn’t feel the same way anymore? You only saw him as a friend? Or maybe it was just that you didn’t see it coming and felt a bit overwhelmed? He wanted to believe it was the latest, but his mind kept on going to the worst-case scenario.

Anyway, the food was there and he figured that giving you time to take his words in wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Harry had already paid for the pizzas when he ordered them, so all you had to do was take them. Once you closed the door by pushing it with your foot, you went to the isle that separated the kitchen from the living room and put them on top of it.

“This smell amazing”, you said while Harry was walking around the kitchen gathering the dishes, glasses and napkins.

“I’m drooling just by the smell”, he agreed. “Do you want to eat here, in the living room or out there?”

“It’s a bit chilly out there”, you said. “Maybe the living room and we can watch something on Netflix?”

“Sounds good”, he nodded.

Silently, you two moved everything to the living room and set the table up. When it was all ready, Harry turned on the TV and logged into his Netflix account before he started looking for something to watch while you poured water into the glasses.

“What about Harry Potter and The Priosioner of Azkaban?” He suggested.

“You know me”, you smiled widely.

It was your favourite Harry Potter movie, so there was no way you would say no to it. Harry smiled warmly and nodded to himself.

“I do”, he sighed before pressing play on the remote.

***

“I’m surprised you watched the whole movie”, you said two hours later when the movie was over.

“Why?” Harry asked.

He stood up and started taking everything back to the kitchen.

“Well”, you got up too and took the glasses. “You always fall asleep during the movies I choose.”

“Technically, I chose this one, so it would’ve been rude to fall asleep”, he said while you handed him the glasses so he would put them into the dishwasher.

“It’s rude anyway but whatever helps you sleep at night”, you said with a smile.

“Are you saying I’m rude?” He asked with his eyes narrowed after he closed the dishwasher.

“Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Styles… I know the whole truth about you”, you said, crossing your arms.

“And what is that?” He asked, mirroring your position.

“That you can be rude sometimes”, you shrugged.

“Falling asleep during a movie is not rude. It is… tiredness”, he said, making you laugh.

“And you always have a reply for everything”, you said.

“I like to be prepared”, he shrugged.

“Like I said…”, you laughed and leaned against the counter.

Harry laughed out loud and shook his head before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. You stayed there in the kitchen, thinking again about what Harry had said just before the pizza arrived. You had barely paid attention to the movie thanks to that.

You had no idea where that proposition came from. It had been years since you two had had any conversation about your relationship and you had no idea what you wanted. Yes, you loved him. Yes, you wanted to be with him. But you feared that this was just about him feeling nostalgic. You remembered vividly the great couple you two were, but you didn’t know if you could go through that kind of heartbreak again.

“You know what I’ve been trying to get better at during lockdown?”

You jumped a little since you hadn’t heard him coming back from the bathroom.

“Surprise me”, you said, still lost in thought.

“Football”, he said. You looked at him with an eyebrow raised, trying not to laugh.

“Really?” You asked. “How did that turn out exactly?”

“Awful”, he admitted, making you laugh.

“I figured”, you nodded and sighed, looking down at your hands.

You felt him coming closer until he was standing right in front of you. Yet, you didn’t dare to look up.

“You okay?” He finally asked.

“Where did that come from?” You blurted out. When he didn’t answer, you looked up. He was frowning and the look in his eyes told you that he was measuring his words. “About us.”

“From… what I feel for you”, he said like it was obvious. “What I’ve always felt for you.”

“Right”, you sighed.

“Don’t you feel the same anymore?” He asked worried.

“I don’t think there’s a world, a universe, where I don’t feel that way about you”, you sighed.

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Why now? How do I know that this, you wanting more again, is not something that will just go away?” You asked.

“I’ve always wanted more from us, (Y/N). The only reason we broke up was because we couldn’t make it work with our lives. We can now”, he said. Hesitantly, he took a step towards you and held your hands. “I’ve loved you since we were 18. I can promise you it isn’t going anywhere. Ever. And neither am I.”

“It…”, you sighed. “It just hurt so much when we broke up, Harry. I don’t think I can go through that again.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t promise that”, you chuckled.

“I could”, he shrugged. “Because that’s a promise I plan on keeping.”

You looked down at your united hands and sighed. His hands had always been so big, way bigger than yours, which had always made you feel safe in a strange way. You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. You knew what you wanted, but you didn’t know if you were brave enough to do it.

“I love you”, you whispered.

“And I love you too”, he said back, rubbing your hands. “You’re my endgame.”

“Don’t use The Avengers against me”, you said, making him laugh. With a sigh, you looked up and it surprised you to find his green eyes so close to yours. “You can’t look at me with those eyes and expect me to give you a reasoned answer.”

“I don’t want you to follow reason”, he shrugged. “I want you to say what you really want.”

“You”, you said without hesitation. “Always. Every day.”

Harry smiled warmly and put some hair out of your face gently, before cupping your face.

Your heart was beating so fast and it felt so loud, that it surprised you that he couldn’t listen to it. You didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but you knew that reasoning about this wouldn’t get you anywhere. You knew you loved him, you knew you wanted to be with him. Maybe he was right. Maybe you could make it work this time. They said that third time was the charm, but maybe the second could be your charm.

“Is it a yes?” He asked, now looking at your lips.

“Yes”, you finally nodded.

His smile grew even bigger now before pulling you towards him and pressing his lips against yours. Just like every single time, you felt fireworks in your stomach. Ever since the first time you kissed him, you felt you could spend your whole time kissing him and would never get tired of it.

Maybe this time, you could do it forever.

#harry styles #harry #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #one direction #10 years #10 years of 1d #niall horan #zayn malik #louis tomlinson #liam payne #fluff #imagine #one shot #pitubea #original work

[ramblingkat]

Fic: Tattoos

A late fic for Day 3 of UraIchi Week 2021. I went with Rebellion, which has turned into no power au Teenage Rebellion. With implied underage smuttiness, though it’s not on screen. 

Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke, Shihoin Yoruichi

Summary: Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father.

Those people did not know Ichigo very well.

Isshin was a ridiculously lenient parent. At least to Ichigo. He’d never put many limits on his oldest child, no matter what shit Ichigo got up to. So when he had firmly said no tattoos, most people would have assumed that Ichigo would have agreed, as one of the few requests of his father. 

Those people did not know Ichigo very well. 

He went from idly speculating on them, because Renji some crazy ones over his neck and shoulders. And even further down. When Isshin had heard Ichigo talking about it with Karin, he had put his foot down. And Ichigo went from idly speculating to wanting one more than anything he had ever wanted. 

He might be a bit of a shit. 

At first, he had just done some research, checking prices and styles and such. The biggest problem he was running into was that he wanted someone decent who would still give him one. The biggest stumbling block was the first thing Yoruichi-san mentioned when he asked where she got hers. 

“You are underage,” the woman pointed out, even as she admired the tattoo that was exposed on her thigh. The woman did enjoy showing off skin wherever she could, and the tattoo she had curling around her leg was much more in line with what Ichigo was looking for over Renji’s thick black lines. 

“So?” Ichigo looked at her, expression one hundred perfect unimpressed. “It’s not like I don’t have a fake ID. -You- got me that ID so we could go drinking together.” He waved away that concern. “Look. I want one, but I’m trying to be smart about it. Besides, I know you. You know every underhanded, shady place around. I know you know at least one place that will give me a tattoo without giving me who knows what else.”

He stared into her gold eyes, determination evident in his. “And if not, I’ll talk to Renji. I know he got his first ones done while he was underage.”

“Renji has shit taste,” Yoruichi protested, even as she was pulling out her phone. Ichigo felt a certain smugness as he realized that he had won. At least a little bit. She was contacting someone, and given her opinions of Isshin, Ichigo knew it wasn’t his father. 

There was a soft buzz as whoever she texted replied after a bit. Yoruichi read it, then tucked her phone away. “You are buying me lunch,” the woman informed Ichigo. “And we are stopping off, and you are buying some more food. If we bring him breakfast, he’s more likely to hear you out, at least. After that, it’s up to you to convince him.”

Already standing, Ichigo frowned a bit. Breakfast? It was afternoon.  

“Who are we going to?” The use of ‘him’ meant it wasn’t Soi Fon or his cousin Kukaku. Not that he thought either of them were tattoo people, even if his cousin had a pretty nice one herself. But those were some of the few people he knew that were in Yoruichi’s circle of friends. 

“My adopted brother.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. He’s much less likely to bite if we bring him food.”

The first view of Yoruichi’s brother would have told Ichigo they were likely adopted siblings anyway. He was pale, the skin that Ichigo could see, with a mass of ash blond hair bundled up into a messy bun. 

His back, which was facing them as they came in, was bare of cloth but covered with ink. The center of it was a woman with long dark hair in an elaborate hairstyle, wrapped in red fabric. Her pose reminded him of the statues of bodhisattvas or saints, all calm and poise, her eyes close and face a picture of peace. 

Her arms, though, were jointed like a doll’s. In one was a blade. The other held a fan with sharpen tips. 

It was a nice piece, and Ichigo wanted to look at it more. But the sound of them coming in made the man turn. He blinked a little blearily at them, though he perked up at seeing Yoruichi. 

Then the smell of the food in the bag Ichigo carried got the man’s attention. The blond sniffed the air a few times, then looked at Ichigo. He had pale eyes, though they looked more blue or gray rather than Yoruichi’s gold. 

After an elbow from Yoruichi, and Ichigo offered up the food. It vanished from his hand, and he blinked as he saw Kisuke start digging into it. Shit, the guy was as fast as Yoruichi was. Guess he trained in the family martial arts as well. 

It would explain the man’s shoulders. And arms. And the muscles on his back that were not hidden by the ink at all. And the man’s chest, where it wasn’t hidden by the loose wrap that seemed to be his shirt. Ichigo was convinced it was a scarf with pretensions, as it looped around the man’s neck, then dropped to tie around his waist. Technically, he had a shirt, even if it hid very little. That was something Ichigo could appreciate. 

Ichigo swallowed as he realized that Yoruichi’s brother was hot. Really hot. The sort of hot that made Ichigo want to put his mouth all over the guy. Shit.

“You two have fun,” Yoruichi chirped, waving and letting herself back out of the door. There was a wordless sound of protest from Ichigo, who felt a bit abandoned. Then he heard a chuckle from the man. 

“Ah, Yoruichi-san is a fan of throwing people in the deep end,” he said. “Please, have a seat, Kurosaki-san.” The man smiled. “I’m Urahara Kisuke.”

Ichigo blinked, even as he did grab a seat. They were in a lounge area, and he realized Yoruichi had led them through a side door of a tattoo parlor. “Good afternoon,” he said, memories of manners his mother had taught him kicking in. No Shihoin? Wasn’t he adopted?

Though…. “When did Yoruichi-san tell you my name?” It was a dumb question, but Ichigo was looking for anything to fill the quiet that wasn’t “Gimme a tattoo,” or “You are hot, fuck me over this chair?”

There was a soft laugh as Kisuke set the cup of juice that Yoruichi had insisted them pick up down. “I’m the one who made your ID.”

Oh. Ichigo had not expected that. Tattoo artist and a forger? That was a range of talents. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as something landed on his lap, and he looked down to see an imperious black cat looking up at him. He was reminded of Yoruichi’s cat; only this one was covered in long fur. Long, soft fur, as he carefully started to scratch the cat. It took a moment of thought from the creature, but the cat finally closed its eyes and started to purr. 

“That’s Benihime. She’s a pretty pretty princess,” Kisuke said with amusement. “And she will bully you for everything you’ll give her. I beg of you not to give her food.”

Ichigo blinked, looking back at Kisuke, who had demolished the food he had been given. “I don’t have any food to share.” Because the only food he had brought was what Kisuke had eaten.

The man gave him a lazy smile. “Well, depending on the tattoo we put together, you’ll be coming back at least once more. Maybe more often than that.” Then he gave Ichigo an undeniable once over, expression approving before the man stood and gathered his trash to throw it away. “So you’ll be seeing her a lot. She’s a slut for attention.”

“So we got something in common,” Ichigo said, mouth getting ahead of his brain as he watched Kisuke walk across the room, jeans accenting a rather nice ass. And the man was barefoot. Fuck. He was going to have to pay Yoruichi back for this later. Either with revenge or with something good. Because Ichigo was horrible at filtering his mouth at times, and he was going to end up hitting on Kisuke eventually. Probably bluntly. Hopefully, he wouldn’t insult the man.

Then Kisuke chuckled, low and throaty, and Ichigo had to swallow hard. “If you stare any harder, Kurosaki-san, you’ll set my clothing on fire. I assure you, there are easier ways of getting them off me.”

And if that wasn’t an invitation, Ichigo didn’t know what was. Especially when Kisuke glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the teen. “If you like, we can head up to my apartment and talk about designs and...other things.”

Subtlety was not a requirement here, apparently, and Ichigo grinned. A hot older guy wanted to have sex? Yes, please. 

He scooted Benihime off his lap, the cat protesting as he moved her, and then stood. “I’d like that,” he said. 

Having a chance for a little teenage rebellion was going better and better for Ichigo. 

#UraIchi Week 2021 #UraIchi #Kurosaki Ichigo #Urahara Kisuke #Shihoin Yoruichi #No Power AU #Sketchy Urahara is Sketchy

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 19 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Was hoping to come home to Cale having poured a me a glass of wine ready to celebrate my externship (and me surviving the longest day of my week)....sadly that’s just not reality and this is the only Cale I’ve got so...it’ll just have to do I suppose. 

Warnings: moderate angst, internet trolls.

Word Count: 2,443

~~~~~

You were in the middle of a house showing when your phone started buzzing incessantly. Not wanting to seem unprofessional, you ignored it as you talked with your clients about the features of the house before sending them to explore on their own for a few minutes. 

Checking your phone you saw that you had missed three calls from Laura. There was no reason for her to be calling you repeatedly unless something was wrong and you quickly called her back, your heart pounding. 

“Hey mom I’m in the middle of a showing, what’s up?” 

“Have you heard from Cale today?” She asked.

“Not since first thing this morning…” You replied, anxiety growing. “Mom what’s going on?” 

“Cale’s not answering his phone. We don’t know where he’s at.” You could hear Gary in the background as the two of them rambled back and forth. “Y/N...there are some pretty nasty rumors online about him…” 

Your heart plummeted to the ground and your stomach twisted violently. 

“Send me screenshots?” You pleaded. After just a minute or two, images flooded your phone that made you want to physically vomit. 

Guess even a Calder trophy winner can be a deadbeat dad. 

He’s on vacation while she’s waitressing...classy move there Cale. 

Guess he’s not so perfect after all is he? #quinnshouldhavewonthecalder

Hearing the footsteps of your clients, you pocketed your phone attempting to mask all of the emotions rushing through your mind. After chatting with them about the house, you moved to leave and though you had planned to take them to see two more, your heart just wasn’t in it. Explaining that a family emergency had just popped up, you promised them you would reschedule as soon as possible before sliding into your car. 

Your attempt to get ahold of Cale went straight to voicemail and you groaned just wishing he would pick up. Opening first instagram and then twitter you realized just what had started it all. The avs had posted a summer update about Cale with a few pictures from Iceland that he must have sent their pr department. The top reply on twitter linked an instagram post from Sara’s page where she was obviously pregnant and wearing a waitressing uniform. Her vague status read ‘working for that dough since my baby daddy is useless’ You’d barely looked at all and you were already furious and devastated, you couldn’t even imagine how Cale was feeling. 

Driving home, you called your favorite coworker pleading with her to take what appointments of yours today she could before calling the rest to reschedule. With your work commitments being taken care of, your plan was to go home and change before trying to find Cale. The moment you pulled in your driveway, however, you felt your heart settle because that was definitely Cale’s car. Dialing Laura’s number again you shut your car door quietly, not sure what state you’d find Cale in on the other side of your front door. 

“Hey mom...his car is here. I don’t know what I’m about to find but you know I’ll do everything I can…” Laura insisted that you could call right back if there was anything you needed and after hanging up with her, you slipped your key into the lock, pushing your way inside. 

The house was quiet and after toeing off your shoes, you padded down the hall in search of your boyfriend. The sight that met you as you reached your bedroom door broke your heart. Cale was curled up on your bed, his shoulders shaking with sobs. 

Crawling in beside him, not caring if your dress got rumpled, you pulled his head to your chest, cradling his large frame as best you could. 

“I’m here...I got you.” You whispered, one hand scratching gently over his scalp while the other ran up and down his back. Though Cale buried his head against you, he didn’t react otherwise and you felt his tears gathering against your skin. “What can I do Cale?” You whispered eventually, hating the helpless feeling this situation had left you with. 

The silence of Cale’s response made you swallow hard. You wanted to scream from the rooftops about how people were making false assumptions, how Cale was the victim in this not his ex, how even if they were right it was none of their fucking business in the first place. But you knew it would only make things worse. The only real option was to let things die down on their own. You knew the truth, Cale’s family knew the truth, your family knew the truth, Cale’s teammates knew the truth. What anyone else thought really didn’t matter but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

When Cale finally cried himself to sleep in your arms, you continued to hold him for a few minutes before you finally pulled yourself from bed. Changing clothes, you grabbed your phone and stepped out to the kitchen for a glass of water, dialing Laura again as you leaned against the kitchen counter. 

“How is he?” She asked immediately. 

“He’s asleep now. Finally cried himself out.” You mumbled. “He hasn’t said a word mom. It’s obvious he’s devastated, but I don’t know what to do. How do I fix this?” 

“You can’t.” She admitted sadly. “Just be there for him. That’s all you can do. It may not feel like much but I’m sure he appreciates it. I appreciate it. I’m glad he’s not alone. That if he didn’t feel comfortable coming home that he felt comfortable enough to go to your home. He’s safe and you can get through this together, we can all get through this together.” 

“Why do people have to be so mean?” You vented, just frustrated with all of it. 

“I can’t answer that. But don’t let this rock your relationship, that would only be giving these people what they want.” She insisted. 

“I’m not going anywhere mom. Cale is stuck with me.” Your words made Laura laugh and you sighed softly. 

“I’m sure he’s so upset about that.” She teased. “My son is absolutely gone for you. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.” 

“I don’t know mom…” You grinned shaking your head. “Makes me wonder what else he got away with that you don’t know about.” You joked. 

“Not funny Y/N.” She lightly chastised. Taking another sip of water you heard the buzz of a phone that wasn’t yours and you followed the sound, finding Cale’s phone with his keys at the front entry. 

“Hey mom...I’m gonna let you go. I don’t want to leave Cale alone too long even if he’s sleeping.” You said, tucking your phone against your ear as you flipped Cale’s over seeing strings of notifications flash across the screen. 

“Sounds good dear. Love you. Let us know if you need anything.” 

“Will do...love you too mom.” 

You didn’t want to invade Cale’s privacy too much but even a quick glance at his phone told you that his teammates were worried about him. Unlocking his phone with the code you’d memorized just a few days into vacation, you opened his group chat and started typing a message. 

Hey guys, it’s Y/N...I haven’t read more than the 1 or 2 messages that flashed across the notifications screen because I don’t want to overstep. Just thought you guys should know that Cale really isn’t in a mindset to look at his phone. He’s not ignoring you...I’m sure he’ll get back to you guys soon...he just needs some time to process. If you have any urgent concerns my cell number is (587) 122- 3456. 

Before you could talk yourself out of the message, questioning if even that was too intrusive, you pressed send, dropping Cale’s phone back with his car keys. It didn’t take more than a minute for your phone to ring and though you hesitated, answering revealed the voice of Gabe Landeskog. 

“Y/N? This is Gabe.” He greeted. 

“Hey Gabe.” You whispered, moving over toward the couch so that you were a little bit farther away from the open bedroom door. 

“How is he?” The question made you sigh, your head falling back against the couch. 

“Not so good.” You admitted. “He’s asleep right now...hopefully his dreams provide him some peace.” 

“And how are you?” He followed up, not bothering to comment on Cale’s status any further.

“Heartbroken. Angry. Helpless. Take your pick.” You groaned. “There’s nothing I can do but be here and it’s frustrating.” 

“Being there is probably more significant than you realize Y/N. Cale is a very private person and if he trusts you that’s not nothing.” As Gabe spoke you realized that even though you’d told your parents about your relationship, Cale must not have told anyone else yet. 

“I know it’s not. I just…I want to fix it. And I know I can’t. I know we just have to wait and let this die out. But in the meantime I have to watch this tear him apart. It’s hard.” Gabe hummed in acknowledgement, a slightly uncomfortable silence filling the air for a moment before he spoke again. 

“All the guys have his back...your back if you guys need anything. I’ll try and get them to back off a little so he’s not overwhelmed when he’s ready to talk. And I’m sure Cale will appreciate you reaching out to us on his behalf. I know the guys are relieved to know he’s being taken care of.”

“Thanks.” You breathed, still thrown by everything that had happened today. 

“Well I’ll let you go. And Y/N... I’ll have Mel add your number to the Better Halves chat...glad you guys figured it out.” Gabe was just a little too intuitive and you shook your head as you ended the call. 

Cale was still asleep when you crawled back into bed beside him, your hands rubbing soothingly along his skin again. With your brain focused on what you could possibly do to make things better, you missed Cale starting to stir, his blue eyes droopy as he peered over at you. 

“I’m sorry…” The sound of his voice made you jump and when you looked over at him, you saw the distraught expression remained on his face. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this…” As he spoke he shifted to sit up, his legs swinging over the edge of the bed. Moving alongside him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body back against yours. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for Cale. You did nothing wrong. This is not on you. This is on the idiots who think they know what they’re talking about when they don’t even have the most basic of their facts straight.” Cale flinched just slightly, but you felt it, your heart picking up speed. 

“I still caused you pain. I’m not supposed to do that.” Something told you that the next words to come out of your mouth were possibly the most important words spoken in your relationship...more important than ‘I love you’ had been. 

“Cale Douglas Makar…” You declared, refusing to let him get up from the bed as you shuffled to stand in front of him. “You listen to me and you listen to me well. You are not the cause of my pain. I hurt because you hurt. The people that hurt you are the ones that hurt me...not you.” Forcing Cale’s cheeks up to look at you, you brushed your thumbs along his jaw. 

“Never apologize for ‘dragging me into’ something. We are partners, we are equals. You cannot carry the emotional burden of this relationship alone. And lately you’ve been doing more work in that regard than you should. So DO NOT apologize. It’s my turn to carry the weight. Let me. Let me support you like you’ve supported me. Let me care for you like you care for me. Maybe I can’t physically carry you out of a lava tube...but I can lift you up emotionally, mentally...I can give you the strength to get through this. You are not alone. You have me. And I’m strong enough to handle this even though it upsets me. Use me. Please. Don’t push me away because you think you have to protect me and handle this on your own.” 

Cale’s tears dripped along your fingertips and you leaned forward pulling his body into yours. 

“We’re gonna get through this Cale...it’ll all blow over. And when it does it’ll just prove to the rest of the world what we already know. That you’re incredible. And we’re unshakable. So whatever you need. I’m here. All you have to do is say the word.” 

“I love you.” Cale’s words were muffled by your clothing, but you heard him loud and clear. 

“I love you too. Always will.” You assured him, nails scraping against his scalp again. Staying like that until his breathing steadied, you dipped down to kiss him gently but deeply. 

“C’mon...let’s order a bunch of junk food, put some stupid comedy on tv and just relax.” You directed. “Though you should probably call mom first. She’s a little concerned and I know hearing your voice would make a big difference.” 

When he nodded, you stepped back, though you didn’t make it far before Cale was wrapped around you again. If he needed to be a koala tonight, you were perfectly okay with that. 

“Do you wanna use my phone so you don’t have to look at yours?” You asked softly. “I did jump into your team group chat to tell the boys to back off a little so you shouldn’t have as many notifications but you can use mine if you aren’t ready to deal with any of that.” 

Cale didn’t seem at all fazed that you had used his phone but he willingly accepted yours, calling his mom. You’d placed an order for food on your laptop while they talked and upon the end of that conversation, you settled in on the couch for the night, only moving for food or drinks. As another episode of the sitcom Cale had picked ended, you looked down at him snoring softly, his head on your chest. 

Today had been exhausting...this week had been exhausting, but you’d dealt with it together and now Cale knew that he didn’t have to bear the weight of the world by himself. You were bound to have bad days every now and then, but together you could get through so much more than either of you could separately. 

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cavalanche #038

[asmo-ds]

this is my first time requesting openly im kinda nervous askska- what if mc and simeon knew they were in love with each other but mc told him she cant be with him bc she doesnt want him to fall and also she has a high sex drive but they agree on trying a fluffy relationship but then simeon catches mc having sex with someone? you can choose that someone yourself. gimme all the angst you have lol. mc is preferebly female but gn is fine too. tho you dont need to write that if u arent comfortable💘

Needs unsatisfied

Simeon x f!MC

(Lil bit of Asmodeus x reader)

warnings: Angst, a lil bit of smut, cheating, MC is a h o e and a meanie :(

Description:

Simeon and MC quickly fall for each other after the exchange program begins. They do little to hide their feelings but MC worries about his status as an angel as she has a higher sex drive. They agree to attempt a sex-less relationship with the angel. Humans are weak when lust comes in to play though.

I've never been the best at angst BUT I cried while making this so hopefully, y’all find it angsty enough

MC had met Simeon at the beginning of her year in the Devildom. At first she thought of him as just some handsome nice guy they had a silly crush on. But the realization that she had fallen in love with the Angel completely and utterly came creeping up on her slowly.

Simeon had met MC before the exchange program, being a guardian angel he has the duty of watching over her. As she got older Simeon’s interested only grew and seeing her at the exchange program was like a dream come true. Being able to talk to her without consequence was an exciting experience for him. He slowly started to realize a feeling in his chest that he had not felt in many millennia. Love.

They both recognized the signs of mutual attraction fairly quickly. One day after MC was done studying with Solomon at Purgatory Hall, Simeon decided to address the situation by bringing MC to his room where they could discuss what they were and what they could become.

“MC, if i didn’t know s any better I would’ve thought you were am exchange student from the celestial realm as well,” Simeon started look up at MC’s flustered yet desperate expression. He reached up to touch her warm pink cheeks softly sliding his thumb over the bone.

“I feel things for you, Simeon. I want you, I need you, and I love you with my entire being,” MC spoke barely above a whisper placing her hand atop the one Simeon had rested on her cheek, nuzzling into his touch gently, “Humans are different though, Simeon.” She sighed enjoying his touch while it lasts.

“What do you mean, my little lamb?” MC flushed at the nick name and looked into Simeon’s eyes. Simeon was able to read what she thought through the simple gaze and his heart dropped a bit. “Oh... MC are you sure you cannot just wait until marriage to sleep together?”

MC looked down at her feet with a troubled expression.

“OK.” MC looks back up at the angel. “Let’s try this”

-

A few months later Simeon and MC were both still happy together, they went on innocent dates and absolutely adored each other.

MC was growing needier though, she wished she could do something with Simeon without him being cast down from the celestial realm and losing his status as an angel

So when MC’s fingers and toys were no longer keeping her satisfied she went to none other than the avatar of lust himself.

“So I’m just not sure what to do anymore it’s killing me to not be touched by someone I care for so deeply, Asmo,” MC finishes her rant to Asmodeus and looks up at him as he has a mischievous look in his eyes.

MC grows nervous as he approaches her and tucks her hair behind her ear he leans closer to her ear to whisper, “You know, when you need to be satisfied I can feel it. It’s almost torture to sit in my room while knowing you’re sitting with him wanting to be touched in places he would never even think of.” He stops to place a soft sensual kiss under her ear. MC lets out a shakey breath relishing in the kind of touch they had been craving for the past few months. Asmo continues to kiss down her neck and collar bone before pulling back to come to a near kiss and whisper against her lips, “Darling, if you want to be satisfied, close your eyes and pretend I’m him. I’ll make you better, I’ll satisfy your needs. I need to touch you MC... please.” 

With those words she surged forward too touch starved to even think of her loving angel boyfriend. Things got more heated and Asmo pushed her back on the bed stripping the both of them for some fun.

- 

Downstairs, Simeon and Lucifer were talking before he was going to see MC. When he heads to MC’s room and sees she isn’t there he gets confused. 

Levi steps out of his room and sees Simeon, giving him a small smile he softly says, “I heard them in Asmo’s room.” He quickly shuffles away not wanting to see his friends being hurt by each other’s actions. 

Simeon tells himself he’ll check on the demon later to see if his biggest fan was okay. Heading up to Asmo’s room he goes to knock before hearing a moan. 

“Asmo please give me more, I need it please,” he recognizes the voice as MC and feels his heart shatter he slowly puts his hand on the handle, taking a deep breath before swinging the door open.

MC’s back was to him as she rode Asmo. Asmo looked up from kissing MC’s neck and marking her to give Simeon a smirk that screamed “I’ve won”. MC, failing to notice her heart broken boyfriend in the doorway continued to bounce on Asmo’s cock whimpering and begging for more. Simeon and Asmo never break eye contact as he slowly shuts the door. He quickly makes his way back to MC’s room, writing a letter to her and putting it on her pillow. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough my little lamb,” Simeon lets a tear fall with the words and quickly retreats to Purgatory Hall.

#swd simeon #om! simeon #obey me simeon #simeon #simeon angst #simeon x mc #obey me angst #simeon x mc angst #obey me imagines #obey me oneshot #obey me undateables #asmodeus x mc #asmodeus x mc angst #asmodeus x mc smut #sad obey me imagines