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fe-fictions · 1 year

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Speaking of Dimleth softness…can you write some expert Dima husbandry? Byleth is very pregnant and tired and he feels utterly helpless. Until he jumps into action to help her wash her hair. Because he totally would.

(Foaming at the mouth for soft dima ;;;)

Eight months had come and gone in all but an instant. For yourself and Dimitri, it seemed to be a blur and moving too slowly all at the same time. The king and queen were thrilled to welcome the heir-to-be, and could hardly wait to meet them.

But until that fateful day could arrive, they had to wait through the trials and tribulations of pregnancy. Dimitri, being the not-pregnant-one, felt increasingly more helpless every time you quietly complained about your struggles. There was only so much that he could do to help you, after all.

He would do what he could to help you, but that typically meant calling for a physician or the nursemaids to assist you while he stood by.

The king could do small things, like help you off the bed or carry you up and down the stairs, it was practically nothing compared to everything else that you needed, and he couldn’t help with. It made him feel utterly useless; the worst possible thing he could feel towards someone he owed his life to (and loved deeply).

Thankfully when you woke up that morning, he was given an idea.

The king stirred when he felt you shift in his arms. Your back was to his chest, and his arms were carefully wrapped aroun you as a shield from the bitter winter cold.

You moved to get up, reaching for his hand and giving it a little kiss to wake him. “It’s time to get up, Dima.”

“Mmh.” He yawned, burying his face in your hair. “You’re sure you don’t need a little more time to rest, Beloved? We did not get to bed until late.”

“Seteth is arriving this morning to discuss urgent needs at the monastery. It would be terribly disrespectful to be late when he’s come so far…not to mention in this weather.”

“You raise a good point.” He sighed, and released you, stretching quickly before he got out of bed and rounded to your side so that he could help you up. “Do you need any help getting ready?”

“I will wear something simple. I do not think I need to be in full Archbishop regalia given my condition.” You replied, taking his hands and letting him pull you from the bedding. “Though I may need to bathe before I go. I’m feeling a little grimey, this morning.”

“Mercedes recommended we change your bathing schedule, didn’t she? Has it been two days, or three?”

“As of this morning, three days since the last bath.”

“You do not appear ‘grimey’, if it is any consolation.”

“It’s a feeling,” You replied, touching your hair, “At the very least, I need to take care of my hair; it will be in much worse shape by this evening.”

Dimitri frowned, thinking. “How long until the meeting?”

You looked outside, “Probably another hour and a half, maybe two if we’re lucky.”

Realization dawned on Dimitri; he had an excellent idea. “Let me help you take a bath!”

“What?” You looked back at him, finding a rather excited expression on his face. “You want to help me bathe?”

“I thought it’s a good idea, don’t you? This way I can help you get ready faster!”

You looked at him, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm so early in the morning. He seemed to be very charged up to do this for you, even if it seemed simple and a little unnecessary.

But Dimitri looked so very happy with himself at the mere thought. Who were you to say no?

“All right.” You nodded, letting him lead you into the washroom and start the bath. Water and fire magic made quick work of the bath, making it plenty warm (but far from hot for the baby). He helped you out of your clothes and into the full basin. You sighed happily, the warm water soothing you all the way through to your very soul.

“Dima…do you know how to wash my hair?” You asked him when the thought suddenly came to you. He nodded, bringing over the various bottles and soaps that would be used, today.

“Of course. And I will be gentle.” He added, before taking a pitcher from the basin and filling it with water. It was quite methodical, borderline calculated, in the way that he poured the water over your hair. He made sure not to let it spill over your face, and repeated the movement a few more times.

You got to work on washing yourself while Dimitri uncorked the bottle in his hands to prepare the hair washing. He hesitated for little more than a moment; he was quite excited to do this for you.

Finally, long, calloused fingers worked into your scalp, almost timidly. You did not react at first, not wanting to scare him or worry him by thinking he harmed you. So you continued your scrubbing while he started massaging the shampoo into your hair.

He seemed a little unsure at first, but once he found a rhythm, it started to feel incredible. To the point that your own scrubbing slowed to a stop. You leaned into his touch, all but sinking into the water while he worked. Dimitri bit his lip to keep from smiling to broadly.

“That feels so good.” You commented quietly, “Where did you learn to wash hair like this?”

“I learned from watching you,” He responded in kind, working the lather through your hair, from root to tip. “You’re always so deliberate when you do it, so I thought I’d give it a try for you.”

“You’re doing an amazing job. I could fall asleep if you keep it up, like this.” You added, “Want to do the rest of the work as well?”

“Would that help you?” He asked borderline eagerly, tilting his head over the basin to look at you. You cracked an eye open at him and touched the tip of his nose.

“It certainly would…it’s nice to be pampered every now and then. You sure you can behave?”

“Nonsense,” He brushed off your teasing, returning his hands to your scalp and resuming the massage. “If you desire your husband to help you wash, then I will do it without complaint or mischief.”

“What if I request mischief?”

“If it is what you desire,” He echoed, smiling at his cheeky wife. He leaned down, touching a kiss to your forehead, and continued his work on your hair.

Eventually, Dimitri would (carefully) join you in the bath, and helped you get washed up (with extra care and attention paid to the sweet baby bump where fists and feet would tap his palms.

It wasn’t much in Dimitri’s mind, but to you it meant the world he wanted to do something so sweet for you. He was doing his best (and was executing it beautifully).

#dimitri #byleth #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #FE 16 #dimileth #dimitri x byleth #fe-fictions #fe fictions #f!mu #f!byleth #fem!byleth #pregnancy prompt #pregnancy fluff #just fluff #soft and fluffy #skskkdkdjfnfnfngg

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crazyunsexycool · 9 months

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What would Ransom say if one day his mum was like "why are you so mean to everyone but y/n? I'm your mother you should treat me better and show me more respect than you do her"

Linda is a bitch and she really would say some shit like this! 🙄😡

So this became a drabble idk I’m really tired I shouldn’t be writing lol

I feel like Linda would do this when Ransom and reader are visiting Harlan. Ransom is more than a gentleman. He helps her take her coat off, pulls out her chair at the dinner table, makes sure she has whatever she needs to be comfortable during the visit. (He is so soft for her ugh!!!!)

It would be something like this:

Ransom is soft spoken with you, a lot of checking in, letting you know they can leave when you want. All that sort of stuff.

It makes Linda see red!!! She fucking hates it because she doesn’t get that from her husband or son. Why can’t she have a relationship like that?

Anyways…

I feel like they would be in the living room enjoying dessert and coffee. Ransom leans in and whispers something into your ear like “do you want more coffee thimble?”

You turn to look at him and smiles but shake your head and give him a small “thanks.”

“I don’t get this.” Linda motions to the two of you. “You’re such an ungrateful prick with your parents, we gave you everything, but you treat her better than you do any of us. Why? Why are you like this Ransom? We’re your family and I’m your mother you should show me some respect.”

Ransom throws his head back and laughs. He can feel your hand on his thigh and a small squeeze both as a comfort and request to not start a fight. But he doesn’t care, you’re more important to him than his mother.

“When you say you gave me everything are you referring to the verbal or physical abuse?”

“You son of a bitch.” She spits.

“You are right on that one.”

“Ran…” you say softly, trying to stop this from getting worse but the next words out of Linda’s mouth set him off.

“I don’t even know why you even talk to her. She’s the one that gave those kids up like the trash they are. She’s ruined this family by being a whore and trying to baby trap you. Can’t you see she only wants you for your money?”

“Eat shit Linda.”

That causes everyone to start going in on him but he doesn’t care. He stands, towering over everyone.

“You wanna know why I treat her with respect? It’s because she does the same for me. She cares about me and my well being. She loves me even when I’m an ungrateful prick. Y/N is a much better person than any of you will ever be. Her and our kids, that you forced us to give up are the best things in my life. So I will not tolerate any disrespect from anyone. You and Richard have been nothing but abusive pieces of shit and you’ll never get an ounce of respect from me.” By the time he’s done, Ransom is breathing heavy and his neck and face are red with rage.

No one in their right mind says anything. The tension is thick in the air and you move to stand at Ransom’s side. Your hand finds his and you tug him back until you’re both out of the room.

Upstairs in what used to be his old room, Ransom loses it. He grabs his old things and just throws them against the wall until they break. You stand outside and let him calm down for a moment. Once the breaking has subsided you open the door slowly and poke your head in. He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes cast down and hands balled into fists sit on his thighs. You walk in slowly and stand between his legs, playing with the few strands of hair that fell forward.

“Even after all this time they still get to me, I hate them.” He says completed deflated.

“I’m sorry baby. You deserve better than that.”

“No I don’t. I’m not a great person, I’m not even a nice person. You’re the one who deserves better.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yeah,” Ransom finally looks up at you. His eyes are red and puffy, a clear sign that he had been crying. “I’m an asshole, you deserve someone that is better than me.”

“Than be better, because I only want you.”

“You’re not expecting me to go and apologize right?”

“Fuck no, you’re mom’s a cunt. Besides I like being the one with the privilege of being on your good side. It’s nice and spacious here.”

He chuckles at that before you lean down and give him a chaste kiss. Ransom leans his head against your chest and wraps his arms around your waist.

Truth be told it didn’t matter if he was an asshole to everyone else or came off as rude to people. You knew who Ransom was under that unfazed exterior and as long as he was the soft sweet Ransom you’ve always known and love you didn’t care. Because he was yours

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #the love we gave away drabble #ransom drysdale x female!reader

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arsenicpanda · 2 years

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Thing is when it comes to ships, shipper goggles are such a huge factor that they cloud everything else. BH shippers see things one way JT shippers another, then there's (those few of us) who ship both BH and JT who see things differently again, when you're a shipper it's hard to see things objectively. Focusing more on BH, let's take last weeks episode, when JH had those flashes of memory BHs saw it as this massive conformation that he's still in love with Betty, I personally didn't see it that way, I saw shock and him looking slightly uncomfortable, and he was so relieved Tabitha texted him, he loves Tabitha and they make each other happy i believe that wholeheartedly, and his reaponse even in text form seemed so heartfelt to me. But let's say that the BH stans were right in theie interpretation, the part of me that ships BH can't celebrate that, because again as in S5 any hint of remaining feeling between them is from JH, Betty from what we've been shown on screen has no romantic feelings left for Jughead, so I cannot be happy with him ending in a relationship where he's with someone who doesn't love him the same way, or worse have him end up being someone Betty settles for when Archie and Veronica inevitably reunite, why would I want that when I can have Jabitha, a relationship that is mutual and I think beautiful, where both parties are equal and actually LOVE EACH OTHER. I'm not saying I'm not open to a BH reunion but I don't see how they can realistically write one now that does any of these characters justice. Also I like to believe I'm generally a good person but there's a small part of me like 0.005% that doesn't want BH to get back together simply because I find the racist way they talk about Tabitha and the way they act like JHs only purpose is to be Betty's security blanket disgusting.

You are correct, shipper goggles extremely affect how a person views a show, and, speaking in a general sense, I think that is both fascinating and frustrating. Fascinating because it can lead to such a diverse collection of reads on a text (regardless of medium), and frustrating because it can sometimes feel like people are being willfully obtuse about what is going on in a text. I have certainly predicted the future events in a series incorrectly because of my shipper goggles (*cough*atla*cough*), and, when that happens (as it has many times), I always like to look back and go “oh, what did I miss?” as well as “how stupid were the things that I missed?” because I am judgmental.

I find the disconnect with the end of 6x14 to be more tiring than anything, because it was very obviously a deliberate set up to go “oooo, look at this, could bh be returning? Or will we stick with jt? Tune in next week and every week after that until we finally address this!” and both stir up conversation on twitter as well as pull bh fans back into the show to increase ratings, which are certainly flagging (although, per Parrot Analytics, Riverdale has a 32.62x demand distribution, which is marked as “exceptional” and is a level of demand that only 0.2% of all tv shows in the market have, and it also ranks in the 99th percentile in the Teen genre ; additionally, while its current demand rank is #78, its peak rank during the past week was #38, so it’s doing pretty well for itself). And it did stir up conversation! That night bh trended and everything! And a number of people also talked about how the episode was disrespectful to Tabitha (which it was)! Their plan worked! Yes, it was disrespectful to Tabitha, and yes, if this is the set up for a bh reunion, it’s the worst possible set up for one, but it got people talking and possibly returning!

The cynicism of it all gets to me, the placement of buzz over story and character.

But, that aside, we’re basically back where we were after 5x10 aired and everyone had different interpretations of Jughead’s Betty hallucination and the bunker scene with Tabitha. And I hate it here, it’s so tiring. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t address the matter in the next episode, and we’re just going to sit on it for god know how long, and I am tired, let’s just commit to one direction and go, please, and do it in a non-bullshit way, one that doesn’t ruin Jughead.

As for your bit on Betty (man did I take a while to get here), I think there is wiggle room to interpret her as having interest in Jughead. I still believe that the close up of Kevin during the jt moment at the end of 5x18 was meant to set up a scene in 5x19 where Kevin told Betty about jt getting together that was cut for time and/or characterization, because why else would he be there? And, even though that moment isn’t there, I can’t help but at least want to interpret Betty’s relationship with Archie through that lens (as well as her rushing to save him in 5x17 and also a couple of other moments in that episode) for Betty/Jughead/Tabitha reasons. And we get some concern from her about Jughead in…5x07? That moment where Archie goes “Well, at least he’s got Tabitha” and her face in the reverse shot can be interpreted in multiple ways. And the mind reading scenes are a goddamn free-for-all, and of course chemistry is subjective, so that’s a factor in reading her scenes with Jughead as well. So, there’s room, basically.

I would argue that there are a couple of moments for Jughead→Betty in 5a, as well as a couple in 5b that shipper goggles can read in a romantic way, but I think that, once we get to 5b, and particularly those last moments in 5x14, we close the door on romantic Jughead→Betty and enter fully into Jughead→Tabitha and getting Jughead sober and in a place where Jughead and Tabitha can date without risk of Jughead’s Issues ruining it, basically. And then they have three episodes (5x17-5x19) of Jughead just supporting Tabitha and helping her in every way he can to kind of even out their relationship so that it’s equal, and it’s not just Tabitha supporting Jughead; they support each other. And after that, when we get to 6b (the Riverdale part of s6), it’s just a matter of who needs support in a given episode (Jughead’s hearing loss, Tabitha’s trouble with saving Pop’s, Tabitha brings Jughead Pop’s to eat, Jughead always does the dishes, etc, etc). They’re equal, and they clearly love each other; it’s just a matter of when we get that parallel to the Rivervale love confession.

(Although, in defense of bh, there’s also the bh makeout to save the world from 6x05 looming overhead, and, as with Betty, 6x14 is pretty much a free-for-all.)

ANYWAY

My interpretation of Betty is “I would like to believe she is settling for Archie because Jughead and Tabitha are dating each other and she doesn’t know how to slide into that, but, realistically, the intent is likely that she probably wants to be with Archie to some unknown degree but will break up with him for drama reasons involve her threat aura and fear of hurting people or something and then start dating Agent Drake, and then idk what will happen from there.” I think she and Jughead will have some more friendly interactions and we’ll either get a 6x05 parallel or a flash to their kiss in 6x05 during some important moment or something idk, idk, that one is super up for grabs.

But yeah, I agree, I don’t see a good way back to bh for multiple reasons, as I’ve said before. It would involve a mess of racist tropes and be deeply uncomfortable, and “Tabitha has tried to save Jughead 1384 times, but yeah, Jughead ends up with Betty” would be absolutely bizarre as a storytelling choice, so I’ve got nothing there.

Also, I have been fortunate to largely avoid seeing the more racist discussions of Tabitha and jt by bh fans because I filtered out every possible anti jt tag the second I started shipping it and unfollowed people who made that kind of post but didn’t tag it, but I have certainly have had the displeasure of seeing some of those posts in the past and heard about them from other jt fans, and it’s just so disappointing, isn’t it? The bh fandom had picked up on the racist way ba fans have talked about Veronica, but multiple people fail to notice when they dip into similar racist tropes themselves. Ah, how difficult it is to see the splinter in your own eye.

(Let it be known that jt fans are not innocent either; I have seen a few too many people across various parts of the internet who focus too heavily on how much Tabitha cares for and supports Jughead, and it can drift a bit too close to being all about how much a Black woman helps a white guy with no regard for reciprocity for my taste. The same can be true for bjt fans, just broadening Jughead to Jughead and Betty.)

As for that 0.005%, I get that, I do. A fandom’s behavior can often shape our opinions about a ship for the better and the worse, and the occasional spiteful desire is, I think, normal. Just don’t get carried away, y’know?

Anyway, that was long and rambling. I think I answered everything? Please tell me if I didn’t.

#asks #anonymous #Riverdale #Riverdale season 6 #shipping #jabitha #bh negativity #bh fandom negativity #fandom racism #well a little #that's more of a cw tbh #this is almost 1.3k words alwkfjladkfjal #sorry not sorry #my thoughts on Riverdale let me show you them #betjug for ts

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sincerely-krp · 2 hours

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This is likely going to rub people the wrong way but some of you need to hear this. Krp is a hobby that’s on a decline because no one wants to admin the people in this community anymore. Which as an admin who gave up years ago, I don’t blame them. Things have just gotten worse over the years.

Admin choose to run communities because they want to have a space to enjoy the things they love in their free time. They welcome members into this space with boundaries (the rules they write out) so that everyone can be comfortable. More times than not these rules are not followed, are disrespected, and called stupid to their face or behind their back. Which is essentially telling someone that their boundaries that you agreed to upon joining are stupid and you don’t care about their feelings because you want your way instead.

On top of that they deal with situations they never expected to have to deal with. Whether that is members harassing other members of the community or people asking for rules to be broken just this once for whatever reason they think up that day. Often they see it all and have to figure out the right solution on the spot. Not just for the people involved but the whole community too.

Which leads them to be ridiculed no matter what they do. Someone is always going to be displeased with every single decision they make and they’re going to make sure the admin knows it in anons, in direct messages, or posts on tea blogs like this. Which comes from a sense of entitlement that is horrible among many members of the community. There were asks here that said you just can’t win, and you can’t. No matter how hard you try people in this community are disrespectful to the admin just trying to keep the peace. Members twist stories to better suite themselves when they don’t get their way.

There will always be members who make decisions that lead them to drama they suddenly don’t want to deal with like an adult so the admin has to deal with it for them. Which automatically makes the admin the villain in someone’s storybook. Even though they’re just trying to fix a situation they didn’t make themselves and make sure the outcome benefits the community as a whole. Do they always do that perfectly? No, which we have seen in the past. It’s a real human who’s going to make mistakes. Just like you. Of course mistakes will be made? Admin work comes with no training. Often we’re winging it and just as stressed as you are. Expecting everything to be done perfectly is insane when members themselves beg for leniency when they break rules or upset others with their own actions etc.

So next time you’re wondering why places aren’t opening or are closing maybe remind yourself that admin are tired. Places are closing because admin are collectively sick of being treated like shit and then still being the bad guy. Of course there are bad admin just like there are bad members, but a lot of it is because admin have had enough and are giving up on dealing with entitlement they aren’t paid to deal with.

・❥・

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rainbowdanganronpaa · 1 year

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rainbowdanganronpa is over/inactive; please stop using any of my designs & artwork

to get it out of the way:

STOP ILLEGALLY SELLING MY ARTWORK AND DESIGNS.

STOP STEALING MY DESIGNS, ESPECIALLY FORCING MY AU CHARACTERS WHO ARE CANNONICALLY ASEXUAL INTO SEXUAL MEDIA OR CHANGING THEIR IDENTITIES.

STOP STEALING MY ARTWORK; DO NOT REUPLOAD IT ANYWHERE, ESPECIALLY PINTEREST. i dont care if you do it with credit or not, STOP REUPLOADING MY ARTWORK.

PLEASE do not make FANART of my designs, DO NOT WRITE FANFIC, and please DO NOT EVER COSPLAY MY DESIGNS. i dont know why you’d want to cosplay them anyway they look weird as hell.

TL;DR dont use my designs/art for anything and do not reupload it anywhere.

no fanart. no cosplay. no pfps or edits. no fanfic, especially. stop stealing my art work and designs, especially when you sell them on horrible quality merch. NO ONE has the rights to use any of my artwork/edits/designs/etc.

seriously i didnt think people would wanna steal damn scenekids edits so bad.

this might seem like im overreacting but ive genuinely had this happen dozens of times and almost took legal action several times against people illegally using my artwork and designs.

ALSO ESPECIALLY STOP SEXUALIZING MY KAZUICHI, GOD DAMN. YALL ARE WEIRD. IN MY AU HE IS ASEXUAL AROMANTIC. STOP CALLING HIM HOT AND SAYING YOU’RE GONNA BEAT OFF TO HIM. like seriously why would you post that ANYWHERE on the internet, let alone an scenekid aroace edit of kazuichi souda made by a teenager at the time? thats just weird like get a life dude

i wanted to leave this AU on a positive note but anyone who saw my other update post knows already. this is a very passionate response because i and other scene danganronpa fans have been dealing with this for over 3 years, along with general homophob!c harassment. very ironic considering this is danganronpa we’re talking about. for context, i will not be looking up anything under my au tags or anything relating to scene danganronpa again, so i will not see any of your messages or responses.

i am sick and tired of the continuous disrespect of the scene danganronpa community to my and other artists boundaries. you constantly reupload our artwork without permission, steal our designs, and illegal sell our artwork/designs, then spew some of the most vile insults when we point it out. this is an issue MULTIPLE scene DR fans have dealt with. i have absolutely no motivation or want to return to the community if you all continue to disrespect artists.

seriously, this is the scenekid danganronpa community, why is it so awful??? i just wanted to make funny scenekid edits for fun, now im sad i ever posted my art online, and have seen other artists wish the same. i also dont even like to consider myself a scenekid anymore considering their history of platforming horrible people and just generally being pretty disgusting, but thats a whole can of worms.

----

thank you to all the people who were respectful. when i was still active in our little community + the scenekid DR community as a whole, it was really cool. i was super into scene fashion at the time and it was fun meeting other scenekids who liked danganronpa, and had similar HCs to mine. it was really awesome whenever i posted a new edit and someone said “hey! ive been waiting for you to do this character :)” and actually made me tear up a few times. realistically its not that big of a deal, it was just cool seeing so many people genuinely appreciate my artwork, even if it was just badly done scenekid edits of danganronpa characters. i really loved seeing people make content /inspired/ by my edits and even say they wanted to cosplay them. while i dont have those feelings anymore, it was fun while it lasted. sorry if this seems really sappy and overly serious, im not sure how to write things casually, HaHa.

#rainbowdanganronpaa #i really hope this au can just fade into irrelevance #i thought it did till i found more stolen art of mine when i was looking at completely random artwork on pinterest #like all i can ask is for you all to leave me alone and stop using anything ive ever created #along with actually respecting other danganronpa artists. because this community definitely doesnt care about us now #artists in general

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swankscity3 · 1 year

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Un*live / un*love myself

Sunday.

Public v private love. It was this past Sunday I realized how I was loved in private for so long and that is heart breaking. I’m not enough to be loved out loud by someone I thought liked me for what I was for the first time. Only validation I was getting was through fucking. Goes right back to me being insecure ab myself. I unfollowed you thinking maybe it’d make me feel something. It didn’t. But it was also necessary.

Monday.

Work was stressful just to start. Tried to be a lil more optimistic. Not much energy but it was Halloween, that’s fun…right? My Vovo was on the ofrenda this year for the first time. It was really hard to see her picture next to everyone else who has passed on. There was an empty slot on the other side and it just made me very fearful of who is going to take that spot next.

Tuesday.

Woke up with intense anxiety. I hate that word. I realized I might’ve crushed someone’s confidence. Even though I laughed out loud about it. I just thought back to myself and felt like a trash person once again. I keep trying to validate to myself that I’m a good person. I did what was right for me because I was being used. Simple. I was being used in the nicest way possible. That’s what makes it even harder to process. He was nice about it and that what makes this guilt feel so much stronger. Snapchat memory came up. I let you back in a year ago on Nov 1. I told myself I was dumb. I told myself I shouldn’t have let it happen AGAIN but I did. I’m glad that memory came up. It reminded me of why I need to validate my worth.

Wednesday

I saw you do things that we used to do but with other people. It’s hard to see and to not feel sad but if this is what’s supposed to happen then so be it. Hopefully I can make new memories too because these old ones are just haunting and taunting me now.

Thursday.

Rough day. Put on my crocs when I was getting ready. The”S” fell off and boom. The thoughts began. Already knew it was going to be one of those days. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Phone is on DND but the texts are still coming through. He’s on my mind still. Like every other day. Fluctuating thoughts of if we’re just never going to be cool again or maybe one day well be okay. Back and forth back and forth. Standing my ground because I shouldn’t fall down. I’ve been disrespected, hurt, used and manipulated. I’m so fucking tired of crying. I feel like I’ve been crying for two years. Yes. Two. Ever since my senior year of college you been hurting me. Someone’s bday was today, someone I liked but I guess that never mattered. Lol. Losing a competition I didn’t even know was happening. Self doubt with photography is coming back. Phases.

I’ve lost all hope for Friday to wait to write about it.

My mind feels like it’s never stopping. Especially today.

Was I wrong? No I wasn’t wrong. I was hurt and used.

Do these people not like me anymore because of this? Why should I care? There’s so many people in the world.

He didn’t go to your grandmothers funeral after you asked him. He was too busy with work. You traveled 3 states to be there for him. You shouldn’t have to ask your best friend to go to your grandmothers funeral. Why should a person like that have access to you?

I want to cut off everyone.

I want to dead all social media but that’s not really an option.

I want to dead myself too but that’s also not an option.

LA is coming up and I don’t even know how to feel about it. Is this trip even going to help me? Or just trigger other thoughts?

I’m exhausted and tired of crying. I don’t know what I need anymore. I think I just need hope. I’m down bad and I haven’t been in a space like this in over a year. He kept me out of this negative space all this time and I feel like I don’t know what could help save me this time. I didn’t realize that until I typed this out.

I’m starting to understand why people hate November. It’s my favorite month. Maybe not this year.

11.3.22. Amtrak No.95 10:35pm

#me #mediumugly #finsta

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thelovelytwentythree · 2 years

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It’s Been a Long Time, Oops..

I shouldn’t have left you.

HA, just kidding.

But forreal, I feel left. Lonely really, like I forgot myself in a way too. Let me first start off by saying staying sober fucking sucks. It’s difficult, irritating, and just fucking sucks.

I just really need to vent about sad I am.

*SIDENOTE* I hate that I never “write” when I’m happy, or any emotion besides sad/hurt. I think I just get so caught up in how good the emotion feels I just wanna bask in it and never let it go....but at the same time, wouldn’t writing make that memory and the emotions that go with it stick around longer ? I don’t know, I just don't make any sense to myself sometimes man.

Anyway, I’m sad. I’m gonna try to make this quick because I feel like I just need to go to church and get some shit off my chest. Top things that grind my gears and make my days a little gloomy are my husband, my family, not having real friends, heightened feelings of depression/anxiety.

1.) My husband is a 14 year old boy trapped as a married 24 year old man with children. I say that because I’ve never came across a 24 year old that is as immature and disrespectful as him. It hurts to my core how he treats me. I have regrets marrying him and I want to leave, but I always think about “who would want me?”. “We can make it work as years go on and as we get to know each other better”, “He’ll grow up, just be patient”, “Stay and pray”. But it gets so hard, I feel so broken on the inside.

2.) My sister seems like she doesn’t want much to do with me. I know I can be a burden and my life is super complicated, but sometimes all I want is my sister. All I want is to escape the chaos and have fun with her. I miss her so much. Ever since I started being vocal to her about problems within my marriage everything slowly began to change between us. She became my only friend, I was beginning to grow a relationship with her. Something I’ve wanted for so many years, but I guess I have to keep wishing at the rate we’re going.

Then my brother doesn’t care for me like I thought he did. I wish he could be there for me. It really makes me miss Sam, (even though he was homeless and an addict, I love him). He was always there, ALWAYS. I miss him so much. I just wanna hear his voice, talk to him one more time.

3.) I just wish I had real friends. Friends that I can count on for literally anything. Friends that don’t fake. That is definitely my fault though. I’ve burned bridges with some good people, I wish I could take it all back.

Lastly..

4.) With everything going on in my life, it’s just made my anxiety worse. And when I thought I would never deal with depression, it came creeping back. My husband gaslights me constantly and makes me feel like my feelings are invalid. I’m constantly told by him that I’m just sensitive and delusional. I wish I had the resources to properly deal with it, but with limited money and no health insurance it feels almost impossible. I just want to get out of this pit.

So there it is just pushing and praying for better days.

*SIDENOTE* I need to really dissect these issues later... maybe? Only if I have weed or alcohol around. Ha, so basically never ...?

Anyway, my husband has no sense of boundaries, (I was sitting alone in the living room with music writing, crying. He doesn’t speak, just walks over me to turn his PlayStation and start playing online. I can’t speak up because he gets mad.) I just get sooo tired of being the only one who is accommodating and considerate in this relationship.

.......this...this is what makes me slowly die on the inside.

#TrulyYoursZi #ChapterTwentyThree

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame.

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels.

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers.

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless.

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom. Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,” Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear.

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her.

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again.

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat.

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction.

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?”

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles imagine #fanpic harry #harry styles prompt #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb

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harrys-bf · 2 years

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Fake social media |H.S x male!reader (he/him)

Pt.2

A/N: I have taken the job of finally doing male readers for Harry, there are never male readers so its my job now 💀 I just went “Fine, I’ll do it myself”

As always please leave some feedback💌 so i know u liked it, pls give me some concepts cause im running out of ideas lol, and you cannot take my work and put it in another platform, thanks <3

Face claim: @hernankanno on instagram <3

liked by harrystyles, tchalamet and other 6,618,381

@yourinstagram: Thank you @vougemagazine for everything we have achieved during this past two months!! Can’t wait to share this project with everyone else!! 🖤🖤

view 12,378 comments

@y/nfan2: THIS PICS>>>>>>

@y/nfan1: YOU LOOK AMAZING

@harrystyles: Proud of you my love💞

@harryfan1: PLS HARRY IS FINALLY COMMENTING SOMETHING SO LONG

@harryfan2: we know youre whipped but calm your titties down😕

@harryfan6: This is the first time I’ve seen Harry comment something so long 😨

@gemmastyles: 🙌🙌 Hell yeah!!

liked by 297,729 users

@celeb.gossip: Harry Styles and y/n spotted in London’s airport, seems like y/n came back to Harry after all. Their child wasn’t with them, this gives us a lot of questions as of why did y/n leave Harry for two months with their child.

Y/n shouldn’t have left their child with Harry for two months and then come back as if nothing happened, parenting is a thing of two people but y/n left for two whole months, is y/n even a good father for his child?

view 89,278 comments

@harryfan7: this is invasive, you guys shouldn’t be posting this things

@haryfan2: i hate the paps and the caption is the worse shit i’ve ever read but this pics are so cute

@y/nandharryfan5: my loves are back together <33

@harryfan8: the way they hold each other omfg im gonna cry

@y/nfan5: y/n left because of work, he is a model and an artist who works hard for his family, this is so disrespectful, their family and ways of parenting as long as the child is okay, is not your business.

@gemmastyles: You have no right on telling this men how to parent their own child, y/n had to leave for work and they got on calls everytime y/n had time, even if he was tired, y/n did everything he could so he could finish his work asap so he could come back to his family earlier.

@harryfan7: Gemma is so right

@harryfan5: Awww y/n 💔

@harryfan6: This men are my whole life

@harryfan9: streetrry>>>>>>

Gemma’s instagram stories:

Your instagram stories:

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liked by yourinstagram, arianagrande and 6,816,927 others

@harrystyles: The love of my life is back and my family and I couldn’t be more happy about it, you know im not a person who is very active on social media but I would like to ask you to stop questioning my husband for leaving me with our child, our child has been okay, yes he missed his other parent but there have been no problems with my husband leaving, we’re just happy we finally got to reunite after two months of my husband being busy with work and projects, I thank you for your understanding in this situation. Keep treating people with kindness xx. H.

view 293,183 comments

@zendaya: Periodt.

@tchalamet: Drag them paps down!!👏

@taylorswift: So happy y/n is back!! Sending all my love for you guys 💖💖

@hunterschafer: We love a supporting husband!! 🙌🙌

@adele: Yes loves!!

@harryfan6: this response to those articles is everything

@harryfan6: husbandrry is my fav

@yourinstagram: ilysm 💗

( liked by harrystyles )

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A/N: Lmao I finally felt better enough to write something, I will def make a part two of this two lovely men, I’ll be writting next part as soon as I post this!!

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adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Not My Type (Like You) ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: you should like do a one shot or even another mini series about amortentia/love potions in general. i’d soooo read that

AU SEVENTH YEAR WHERE VOLDY NEVER CAME BACK <3 f**k that mf !

italics are for flashbacks <3 i love them if you couldn’t tell

Warnings: mean!draco, cursing, more mature themes/ideas, little bit of spice towards the end teehee but not too much bc idk how to write smut to save my life

Words: 4.5K

A/N: I saw a tiktok that kinda inspired this and i couldn’t get the idea out of my heaaaad if anyone knows which one im talking ab send it my way so i can show !!!! ALSO I LOVE THIS ONESHOT I LOVE DRACO AND I AM IN MY FEELINGS this might be my new favoriteeeee

Draco Malfoy was insufferable.

The Prince of Slytherin was unbearable for many reasons, things you've been taking notice of since your first year at Hogwarts when you accidentally had the ”pleasure” of interacting with him when he called you stupid in a class for reciting a spell incorrectly. That day, a hostility blossomed. A hostility that ensued nothing but teasing, mocking, and criticizing that would sometimes go too far and you'd both have to be pulled away from each other by your friends’ before either of you said anything excessively harsh that had no return.

You often felt like Malfoy sought you out to bother you and only for that. You could be sitting in the Quad with friends, conversing and laughing like nothing in the world mattered, and a few minutes later you'd be hurling insults towards the blond across the courtyard after he would yell something infuriating to you with that smug smirk on his face and his goons laughing wildly beside him as if he just said the most hilarious thing they've ever heard.

On the days you’d ignore him, not having the patience or the energy to deal with him, he would still somehow find a way to push your buttons. Little things here and there like passing you in the corridors and tugging at the ends of your hair gingerly like a child but enough to tick you off or sending you notes from across the class in the form a small fluttering bird with a lousy drawing of you usually with a message along the lines of, “Y/L/N, hopefully, this note finds itself in the nest of hair you have today xx DM.”

In all honesty, there wasn’t a day you didn’t encounter Draco and it’s been that way for seven long years. Neither of you ever gotten tired of mildly or spitefully bullying each other and neither of you ever dreamed of stopping. He was one of the few constants in your daily life, and you in his. It was like you both lived on annoying the other, and in the midst of all the chaos that you brought to one another; there was a small, teeny, tiny acquaintance - not that either of you would ever admit it. You may have noticed it the time you bet each other ten galleons for who would win in the Triwizard Tournament your fourth year and he bet on Viktor Krum while you on Cedric Diggory. (he’s very much alive i refuse to think otherwise.)

“So you’re telling me, your mother is the reason why you’re not at Durmstrang,” you scoffed. “This whole time I could have been saved four years of headaches.”

“You’re just jealous some of us have more opportunities than others,” he snarks back pompously. “Unlike you, I hardly believe you would be graceful enough to even be considered admission into Beauxbatons.”

You had gone to see the last task of the competition just like the rest of the schools, all packed tightly onto the stands and watching carefully the exit of the maze. Naturally, you had arrived with your own friend groups, but somewhere during the time of sitting there and even being a few rows behind the blond and his minions, the two of you had met in the middle bench after he was trying to prove something wrong to you.

When Cedric appeared back in front of the stands with the glowing Triwizard cup held high over his head in victory and every Hogwarts student loudly celebrating, you had jumped up from your seat and shook wildly an irked Draco beside you. He roughly shrugged your hands off his stiff shoulder, looking up at you with a sneer that you met with a bright beaming smile.

“Pay up, Malfoy!” You held out your hand towards him, opening and closing your fingers to receive the bet money. “I believe it was ten galleons you owe me.”

He begrudgingly reached into his coat pocket and fished out the coins, counting them defeatedly before tossing them into your palm. “What a waste of galleons.”

“Hey, you made the bet,” you reminded him with a still very bright smile. You shoved the money into your pockets, keeping one of the gold coins in between your fingers, and gave him a small hair ruffle that he harshly recoiled from before you turned to jump back up towards the level of stands your friends were originally sitting at.

“Were you really sitting with Malfoy this whole time?” One of your friends questioned when you reached them, a goading smirk on his face.

“Ooooh, she definitely was,” another friend piped up, wiggling her eyebrows. “They’re obsessed with each other.”

“Shut up,” you smack her arm casually, showing the pair the one gold galleon you were holding. “We are not. I was only sitting with him to get my bet money.”

“Sure,” they drawled in unison, sniggering when you threw your head back in annoyance.

You looked down the rows to see the mop of white hair you just sent into disarray. He was slowly descending the stairs of the stands with Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind him. Almost as if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned back to look at you, his cold gray eyes gazing into yours. It was like everything around you went quiet, the only thing in your focus was him and all you could do was stare back. It wasn’t until your friends started stifling laughter and whispering “aww’s” that you snapped out of the short-lived and odd few second trance you were in. He waited for you to do something before he turned back around, and you did - by holding up both hands; the one golden galleon on your left and your middle finger on your right, grinning to yourself when he rolled his eyes throwing you the finger right back before he finally disappeared into the mob of people below.

You were briskly walking down the corridors, books held tightly to your chest with your friend at your side while you made your way to Advanced Potions with Slughorn after Snape finally made his way into the DADA position. It was an easy class, potions being something you had a knack for and it gave you enough leisure to mess with your “favorite” Slytherin who shared it with you.

“Look there goes your boyfriend,” your friend teases, elbowing your upper arm roughly and nodding her head down towards the hall to the tall blond appearing around the corner and entering swiftly into the class.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I hate him and he hates me, end of story.”

“You know when you say you hate him, it just sounds like the opposite,” she says tauntingly. “Besides, hate is a strong word and very misplaced. Maybe, it’s just years of built-up tension that both of you have been too nervous to do anything about.”

“Tension? Yeah, I want to strangle him,” you laugh to yourself at the thought.

“Not that tension, idiot,” she shakes her head, “I mean sexual tension...clearly.”

You gave her a horrified look mixed between being disgusted and being offended. You held your hand over your mouth and pretended to gag as dramatically as you could. “I am appalled that you would even say that. I would rather be locked in a room with Filch and Peeves and hear them argue and fight all day than to be with Malfoy like that.”

“Come on, think about it,” she encourages, stopping the two of you a little ways away from the classroom. “You guys 'hate' each other?” She finger quotes the hate, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “When you hate someone, you don’t go out of your way to talk to them every day.”

“It’s not like that,” you wave a hand dismissively. “Also, this isn’t a cliche, this is real life. We hate each other, that is all there is to it.”

You picked up the walk again, your friend to following behind you while letting out a deep and exhausted sigh. You couldn’t help but think about what she said, sure, perhaps at one point you thought Draco was attractive with his bright silver hair, his glittering gray eyes, his little button nose that he would crinkle up every other word he spoke in his charming haughty voice, or the way he’d tower over you in the middle of a conversation gone wrong and he’d be talking lowly to you but all you’d be able to focus on was the sweet scent of apples and cologne that radiated off of him.

“No,” you whispered almost silently to yourself, forcing yourself out of your thoughts and shaking your head from side to side as if it was going to get the image out of your head. He was mean, disrespectful, arrogant, and insulted you daily - even if you both laughed about it or gave props for the perfect jabs.

The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into the dingy Potions classroom was Draco, his focus trained on the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. Just as his eyes were about to flicker down towards you, and sensing that he was about to, you quickly avoided his gaze and concentrated onto Slughorn who was waiting patiently by his desk with a bubbling cauldron for you and your friend to join the crowd in front of him.

“Great! Now that we’re all here,” Slughorn began excitedly, fixing the sleeves of his robes as he grabbed the ladle in the cauldron and began stirring it while continuing his lecture.

You were trying to listen, capturing only the professor’s last sentence as he called on someone who raised their hand. All attention was thrown out the window when you realized Draco was standing near said classmate, a look of annoyance suddenly clouding his features when his pale eyes met yours.

“What?” He mouthed. You ignored him, trying to turn your concentration back onto Slughorn but nothing he was saying made sense, and right as you caught a word you did understand, a shuffling and an abrupt arm knocking into yours threw you right back out of the loop.

“Watch it,” you snap hushedly when you notice who it is. “Why are you over here?”

“I can’t say hello to my number one fan?” He whispers back, snickering slightly when you scoffed quietly.

“Fan? Says the one who shoved his way through the crowd to come over here,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

“I hardly shoved,” he mutters. “I only moved because I couldn’t see Slughorn from where I was standing. Not everything’s about you.”

“Really? Because to me, it seemed like you came over here for my attention.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, a patronizing smile making its way onto his face. The type of typical boy smile where his mouth is half agape with his tongue smoothing over his teeth as he stared off across the room with his fingertips rubbing thoughtfully against his jawline as he thought of what to say. You stood still as he bent down, nearing his mouth towards your ear and whispering hotly, “you wish, darling.”

Slughorn sent everyone to their paired tables, and as everyone began moving and Draco sauntered off away from you, you stood stuck there, shocked with the lingering chills that were sent down your spine from your archnemesis’ comment.

“I told you, you’re into each other,” your friend sang expectantly from behind you, grabbing onto your sleeve and directing the two of you towards your table.

You were working peacefully at your workspace, cutting up, peeling, and crushing the ingredients that your friend was sliding across the surface to you. In the table behind you was where Draco was working annoyingly quiet, tossing the stripped stems of the roses at you that you had to peel, tiny thorns pricking at your ankles through your socks since the bigger thorns had been taken off for the potion. As payback, you would throw back loose extra pearl dust you ground up, giggling tauntingly when he would frown at you for getting the coarse white powder all over his Italian leather shoes and most definitely inside of them as well.

When you, and seemingly the rest of the class, had finally thrown in all the ingredients and the potion promptly finished brewing, beautiful clouds of white and pink smoke began rising from the cauldrons, each one having a lovely scent of first; freshly pressed high-priced linens, then a faint smell of a brand new racing broom out of a box with a freshly polished wood handle that then quickly transformed into a sweet harvest of apples, green specifically, and finally...

“Ugh, gross,” you pinched your nostrils closed, turning your body around and sending a scowl towards Draco’s way. “Malfoy, we get it, your cologne is expensive, now stop spraying it. I was smelling all these wonderful things and you ruined it.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you were crazy. “Are you mad? I didn’t spray anything, I think you’ve finally lost it.”

“Well you laid it on too heavy this morning then, it reeks in here.”

“You’re one to talk, Y/L/N. Did you bathe yourself in that dreadful perfume you wear just now? And that ghastly lip shiner thing you use,” He sneers, crinkling up his nose. “I can’t even think straight, I might vomit.”

“Lip shiner? It’s called lip balm, you prat,” you retort, crossing your arms angrily. “Either way, I haven’t used or sprayed anything either so-”

“For Merlin’s sake!” Your friend suddenly exasperated loudly from beside you making you briskly whirl around to look at her, a look of pure annoyance etched onto her face. “Are you two really that daft? Honestly? Have you been paying attention to anything other than each other? For instance, the potion we just made?”

This gained the attention of your classmates around you in the surrounding tables, turning their heads slightly but not obviously with small knowing smirks on their faces while they snickered quietly and listened. It was soundless as you reached towards the book in front of your friend, pulling it painstakingly slow towards you in fear of the words that were written on the open page.

“Amortentia,” you muttered glumly as you read the page, pushing it away from you dejectedly as everything began to click.

“The reason you’re both smelling each other is because you’re what the other desires and is attracted to. Wow, what a revelation! As if the whole school didn’t already know.”

You were afraid to turn around. You could feel the cold and hard pair of eyes burning holes onto your back and the immediate amount of whispers and giggles of the people around you. Luckily, Slughorn was busy at the other end of the room, working diligently with another pair of students who managed to mess up their potion.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco announces finally.

“What’s so ridiculous about it?” You questioned, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you turned again and took notice of the way his lips were curling upwards as if it was the most disgusting thing he could have ever heard.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” he deadpans. “Why would I ever desire someone like you?”

There had been occasions over the years when you were in this situation. None as drastic and as revealing, but there would be times when friends and others would poke fun and say the exact same thing your friend told you earlier. The usual, “they got the hots for each other!” and you would always brush it off and joke about how you could never, and he’d do the same. It was always amongst laughs and jokes, but as you looked at the Slytherin in front of you - there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his hardened face.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” you seethed, biting down hard on your lip to refrain from lashing out either in tears or in insults, you couldn’t decide. “If I’m so revolting, leave me alone from now on, I mean it.”

“I never said that,” he argues. “You’re just simply not my type.”

For some eerie, awful reason, the words tore into you like a sharpened knife going easily through butter. You were used to his insults, his mocking, his comments about your appearances - but this hurt, and you couldn’t explain why. You thought, for a second, possibly, that maybe your friend was right. Maybe there was a hidden attraction you had for the platinum blond that you buried deep away and one that he had for you. There was no way that was the case now, not at all.

And for the first time in your life, you couldn’t be more sure of a simple little fact.

You hated him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You don’t know how long you spent sitting in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, back against the cold tiled wall with your knees brought up to your chest. Your friends had tried to console you after the public rejection and humiliation, but their words only made you feel worse. You felt silly for being so bothered about being rejected by Malfoy, he wasn’t exactly someone you fancied, to begin with.

After dinner, you went off the grid and found yourself where you’re now sitting. The ghostly girl flew restlessly around you, popping out of her stall now and then to chat but then going back into her abyss of nothing when she learned you were still upset. You noticed it made her a little too pleased, considering the fact it was always her who was miserably wailing about her problems in the bathroom. She tried to hide it and let you talk to her about how you felt, but she gave terrible advice most of the time.

“Well, if it was me, I would have never started fancying someone who was mean to me,” she mumbled. “Like when Paul Wighorn made fun of my hair for a whole year and laughed when I cried. I hated his guts then and I still do now.”

She had a point, but she was also Myrtle. Nothing about the overly dramatic ghost made sense.

“I don’t fancy him, It’s just weird,” you trail off. “I can’t imagine a day without him, even if he is a complete arse. We always joked about how we hated each other, but I didn’t think he actually meant it, I guess.”

“I think you do fancy him, though,” she whispers knowingly in your ear, making you flinch from her cold draft. “Stop denying it, it’ll only keep making you feel worse. Amortentia doesn’t lie, silly. Maybe when you drink it, but before that, all real feelings are there, whether you know it or not.”

You sat quietly, taking in her words before something came crashing down onto you like a wall of bricks.

“I suppose that means he’ll have to stop denying it too,” she adds thoughtfully.

“Myrtle,” you rush to get up, smoothing your hair down profusely and fixing the wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re a genius.”

“I am?” She asks excitedly. “What did I say?”

You waved her off, giving her another thank you before rushing out of the bathroom and into the empty corridors. You were trying to go back to your dorm to sleep, hoping that when tomorrow came you would be bold enough to confront the Slytherin Prince but it was thirty minutes past curfew, something you didn’t notice until you were bustling down the steps in a rush and came face to face with the man of the hour himself doing his Prefect patrolling duties.

“Go to your dorm, Y/L/N,” he sneers. “I’ll take away house points, don’t test me,”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That I’ll take away house points? Watch me. Five-”

“No, you twat,” you groan, swatting his arm with your hand. “I don’t believe that I’m not your type.”

He stayed wordless for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks and clenching his jaw as he peered down at you from his lanky height. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think you were my type until the amortentia made me aware of it,” you answer quietly. “Actually, my friend had a hand in it, but it was mostly the potion.”

Silence, again. Still and deadly. You could hear the large clocks around the school tick and tock, the hundreds of paintings snoring peacefully or chattering quietly. You avoided looking up at the boy in front of you, all of a sudden feeling small under his gaze until you felt cold fingers brush against your cheekbone and then softly through your hair causing you to finally look up into the soft wandering almost blue eyes.

“I didn’t find out with the amortentia,” he muttered almost reluctantly as if it was the most difficult thing he had to reveal. “I’ve known I’ve liked you for a while.”

“How long is a while?” You curiously wonder aloud.

“I’m not telling,” he smirks. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out one day.”

Both hands came up to rest on your cheeks, slightly cold but soft and tender. It sent chills throughout your body as he took a step closer to you and then closer, backing you carefully into the diagonally ascending stone wall that went in the direction of the stairs. Your breathing was getting uneven, you noticed the way you accidentally switched to manually forcing yourself to inhale and exhale normally when he leaned down with his face now being mere centimeters from yours. It was torture, having your eyes closed and feeling the way his nose was brushing against yours, minty breath warm against your lips as he ghosted over them with his. He was so close, you smelt everything that was in the damn potion that got you here. It sent flutters of warmth down your body, trickling down and seeping deeply into every bone in your body as if this is was the remedy its been needing. This is what you’ve been missing.

When you finally felt a soft pair of lips being pressed into yours, it felt almost unreal that you were there. It was awkward the first couple of seconds, both of you wondering how in the world had you gotten yourselves in this position, but after you relaxed and he found his Prince of Slytherin confidence - it was magic. His lips moved languidly against yours, affectionately and full of longing. He kept his hands on your cheeks, still timid to move anywhere else while you kept yours resting lightly on his sides. It scared you a little, how fast and how easily you melted into each other, like if this was something you’ve been doing with him for years rather than torment the other for laughs.

You hated the feeling when he pulled away, a gust of freezing castle air passing through the space between you and cooling your lips and face from his contact. His hands dropped down to his sides and he looked down at you with a small smile, a teeny bit smug, but happy. You wanted to feel the same way, but a question still loomed over your head, overpowering the giddiness you were vividly feeling.

“Why did you lie earlier?” You question softly, directing your gaze to the floor. “In class, I mean.”

He thought about his answer for a second, sighing deeply when he realized he had to uncover more truths about himself to you. You took a mental observation at that, he didn’t like to talk about feelings. “You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. I thought I’d beat you to it and reject you before you could reject me.”

“What made you think I’d reject you?” You coaxed. “Other than the fact that I made you a sworn enemy at eleven.”

“Exactly that,” he laughed lightly. “You’re unpredictable, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself at the realization that he finally used your first name. “So are you, Draco.”

“Not really,” he grins. “Like in just a few moments, for example, I’m going to start snogging you.”

You opened your mouth to encourage him but shut it quickly when he closed the space between the two of you again, this time much closer than he was before. He was flush against you, and when you say you could feel everything; you could feel everything. You were almost begging for him to lean down and kiss you again by the time you felt his hands on you again, running delicately around the exposed skin of your hips when your shirt hiked up an inch on accident. He leaned down again, and with the advantage of his lowered height, you let your hands slide up his arms, biceps, and ultimately the nape of his neck where your fingers continued up into his hair. The breathiest gasp escaped his throat as you tugged at the ends gently, smirking to yourself when he closed his eyes in delight at the touch.

His lips came down onto your fast this time and hastily, pressing himself impossibly closer into you. You could feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hold moving upwards onto your waist as he continued to kiss you fervently. His teeth bit down softly on your bottom lip and you wasted no time in parting them slightly for his tongue to meet yours. You tugged at the platinum strands of hair again, feeling triumphant when a low groaning sound emitted from his throat at the sensation as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further.

You knew you were done for when one of his hands slowly slid up your upper body, stopping first at your collarbones with warm fingertips fluttering over the skin, before he moved it upwards completely and he now had his large hand wrapped comfortably around your neck. You gasped in delight into the kiss, a swarm of butterflies going directly to your lower stomach as he squeezed against the artery in your neck meticulously, the coldness from his Malfoy family crest ring only adding fuel to the fire. He tore his mouth away from yours with his hand still clutched firmly around your throat and you were almost sent into orbit with the look he was giving you. A look filled with desire, adoration, and intensity - his pale gray eyes were much darker, almost a dark blue that resembled the starry night sky on a summer night.

Lips reattached themselves roughly and feverishly against your jawline, peppering long and tender kisses all the way towards your ear and then down towards your collarbones where he was beginning to undo the rest of the top buttons of your school dress shirt. You felt him smile against your hot skin when you’d writhe underneath him, emitting weak whimpers that you couldn’t hold back that he ended up having to clasp a free hand over your mouth as he whispered into your ear to stay quiet.

It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a poorly lit corridor where anyone could walk past and see the frenzy that was unfolding, nor did it matter to Draco that his Prefect duties were long forgotten. Your friend was right, and everyone else for that matter; it wasn’t hate you felt for the blond at all, it was years and years of a craving and a hidden yearning packed with displaced tension.

And now, you were both exactly where you wanted to be; together.

8K notes · View notes

fizzymilkduds · 2 years

Text

Where The Boys Are - Egon Spengler x Reader (Part 1 of 3)

Hi everybody! I’ve not written in a good handful of years and I really wanted to get back into it! So, I decided to write about my favourite ghostbuster, Dr Spengler. The next parts should be up soon, and I’ll link them all on this post when I can :) Quick shoutout to @spenglers-spectacles for helping me figure out some stuff :D

Warnings: Alcohol, possible OOC?, angst but I promise it gets better over the following chapters

Word Count: 2679 (oops)

“Y/N, turn around! Give us a picture!”

Looking behind at the paparazzi, you shot a beaming smile towards them and gave them a wave. More voices shouted your name, intermingled with the names of the others of your team. You could barely breathe, being in such a compact crowd of fans and photographers. You were attending a party thrown in your honour, after all, it had been a year since you first joined the team. Working as a Ghostbuster often meant that you’d get invited to several parties throughout New York, but never something as huge as this. Unfortunately, larger parties meant more photoshoots and being hounded by more reporters and more fans than what you were used to. No disrespect to the fans, you love them and appreciate the support. As for the reporters, they’re only doing their job. It’s just that sometimes it can be incredibly draining interacting with several strangers at the same time when you aren’t on a job. Especially today, you’re super tired from a bust and you just wanted to go to the firehouse and sleep for hours on end without interruption.

You truly weren’t expecting anything special done for you, but Peter had other plans. So, after cleaning up from slime, having a shower and wearing something more comfortable, the team tried to hide their grins as they made their way to the club in Ecto, to surprise you. You still feel so lucky to not only call them your colleagues but your friends.

Ray was like a beam of sunshine; he was the one who interviewed you and introduced you to his colleagues. He reminded you of a puppy, always happy and somehow finding the positive in everything. It was a refreshing change from the other people in your life.

Winston empathised with you the most, once being in the same shoes as you. He gave you the rookie tips and tricks that helped him out initially. You two shared an understanding that brought you close.

Peter took you under his wing and showed support that you didn’t expect from him. You expected his arrogance on camera to carry into real life. Really, it translated into a cocky but charming wit that often left you in tears, your abdomen aching from laughter.

But Egon? He was the one you formed an instant friendship with, after discussing his fungi collection. You didn’t have anything academic to add to the conversation, although you did point out which ones looked cool, or cute. Since then, you two have rarely been seen apart, especially since you often come up with new ways to improve the traps and proton packs. Egon had an air of intelligence that astounds you; whether he’s discussing a new theory or reading the takeout menu, you hang on to every word he says. Not just that, but his deep soothing voice feels like a cosy blanket wrapped around your little heart too. His round glasses rest perfectly on his cute nose, he has an endearing stern look when he’s focused on his work, and he has his mannerisms that seem awkward to others but endearing to you. On the rare occasion you see him smile after helping him, it truly feels like your heart is dancing.

It's safe to say you’re in love with him.

“Can we have a group photo?” someone shouted, somewhere to your left. “Sure thing!” laughed Ray, “Come on guys, we’re needed in one place.” Ray also seemed tired and was eager to finally go into the club. Ever the people pleaser, Ray just couldn’t say no to making someone happy.

The pen you were holding to sign someone’s polaroid was knocked out of your grip as Peter grasped your arm and shoved you into the rest of the team to be captured in a timeless image. Winston gave you a comforting smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, whilst Egon awkwardly stood close to you on your other side, also feeling uncomfortable with the number of people surrounding him. Your legs felt like jelly and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Ever the observant man, Egon noticed.

“Would you like me to step further away?” Egon asked you, already shuffling back. He understands how the feeling enclosed can exacerbate your condition. “Oh,” you stuttered, gently waving him back, “No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit tired and the noises and flashes are making me feel a bit funny.” Sandwiched between the two, you tried to calm yourself by closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

In the nose, out the mouth.

In.

Out.

A shaky in…

An even shakier out…

The lights flashed through your eyelids, making no difference in hindering whatever it is that you’re feeling. The yelling and shouting from the people around you became a cacophony that wouldn’t stop buzzing in your ears. Your legs felt like jelly, and your breathing was becoming shallower. Suddenly, you felt someone carefully clasp your hand, their thumb rubbing circles. Your eyes shot open, meeting Egon’s concerned expression.

“I need you to focus on my voice,” Egon’s voice seemed so far away, despite standing right next to you. Egon brought your hand up to his chest so you could feel his rhythmic breaths, making it easier for you to follow along. “Copy me.” He slowly inhaled, watching you do the same, albeit still shakier than him. He then exhaled, the cool air fanning your cheeks and repeating a few times.

Once he was satisfied that your breathing was improving, he continued. “What you are currently experiencing is called a sensory overload; your brain is receiving more electrochemical impulses than what it can process. I suspect it’s from fatigue after a strenuous job. I advise we go somewhere quieter and dimmer to reduce your symptoms.”

Honestly, you could barely understand what he was saying, mostly because you could hear your blood pumping due to the adrenaline in your body. However, you caught onto the last part. Yes, your brain was going into overdrive, but just listening and being near to Egon was enough to help you calm ever so slightly.

Before you could reply, Winston decided to speak for you. “You do seem a bit shaken up; it’d be no problem if you wanted to go home.” You did want to rest, really. But you would rather suck it up and be with your friends than be alone for hours at the firehouse. Janine arrived at the club a while before you arrived to avoid the people outside, Peter told you, so you wouldn’t even have Janine to talk to.

“No, that’s ok! You set this all up for me and it wouldn’t feel right to not attend. Thanks for asking though, Winston!” You looked back at Egon to realise that he was still holding your hand, or you were holding his; you couldn’t quite tell. You felt your face heat up as he looked down and realised the same thing. “I’m sorry, I should have asked for your consent.” He quickly let go and roughly shoved his hand into his pocket, “Studies show that soft physical contact between friends can trigger the release of oxytocin, which in turn reduces stress. Do you feel any difference?” “I do feel a bit better, Egon. Thank you.” You gave him an earnest smile. It’s true, the touch did have its intended effect. You now feel less stressed, but you are also beginning to feel those butterflies you know all too well from Egon’s attention and care.

You didn’t realise how close you two were until Peter interrupted you. “Alright lovebirds, shall we go in? I’m dying for a drink!” You yelped, jumping back in surprise. At the same time, Egon cleared his throat and fixed the position of his glasses, covering up his embarrassment. “Go on, kid,” he gently pushed you forward, “Ladies first.” As you began to walk into the club, you didn’t notice the teasing look Peter gave Egon. You also didn’t notice Egon’s blush from the interaction he was caught in. He glared at Peter; he was just helping you feel better, nothing more.

Then why did he feel like there was something more?

Inside the club, the music was loud but bearable and the room was dim, yet colourful. Searching around, you finally laid your eyes on a small table at a seemingly quiet corner of the club. “I’ll be with you all in a minute,” you eyed Egon specifically and smiled at him, “I need some time to settle from the activity outside.” “That’s alright! We’ll be by that booth over there once you feel ready!” Ray pointed towards a large booth at the other side of the club, which was being saved by Janine. You could just barely see her through the large crowd of people. Before you could reply, he was already making his way over with Peter trailing behind him. You let out a little laugh. “Let me know if you’re in trouble, ok?” Winston asked. You turned to face him and gently hugged him before he also made his way over. “If you start to feel palpitations or have any worries, please let me know.” Egon’s face was scrunched in discomfort over the terrible music booming over his voice. You nodded, promising to Egon you would do so. Satisfied with your answer, Egon turned around and followed the rest of the team.

Currently, you just wanted a drink to hope it’d make you feel better. Walking up to the bar, the bartender recognised you and offered to make you a special cocktail she came up with. After thanking her, you headed back to the table, internally thanking whoever is out there that it was still empty. You sat there quietly, trying to release the tension you kept in your shoulders. Your nose scrunched at the strong smell of the drink. It was Slimer-inspired, fluorescent green with a citrusy flavour. It tasted delicious, and it was the type of drink that didn’t burn or taste of alcohol going down.

By the time you were halfway done with your drink, which wasn’t really that long, you heard a squeal just a few feet away from you. “Hey there, pretty lady!” Janine wildly waved at you before sitting in front of you. “I didn’t see you arrive, but the boys told me you were having a little moment of peace. Press was that bad outside, huh?” She looked as gorgeous as ever, her glasses, lipstick and dress all matching a beautiful shade of deep red. You gave her a weak smile and shook your head solemnly, your nerves feeling much better. “Yeah, Egon helped me out.” Janine pursed her lips and rested her head on her hand, noticing your melancholy. Hiding your emotions from Janine was impossible, she knew how to read you like a book. “Wanna talk about it, or just have some company?” Looking at Janine, a sigh escaped your list and you asked to not be alone. Janine gave you a big hug and rubbed you back.

After a few quiet minutes, Janine spoke up. “I’m getting a drink, want another?” Knocking back the last of your drink, you thanked her and slowly nodded, beginning to feel a bit tipsy.

Alone yet again, you took some time to collect your thoughts. You certainly do feel better mentally compared to how you were outside. Emotionally, however, you began to ache. The butterflies in your stomach from Egon’s touch are gone; the giddiness in you replaced by a sense of dread. You allow yourself to set into the reality of your emotions. You have a strong admiration for your friend who you see and work with daily. Said friend doesn’t seem to be interested in the same way. He’s such a strong-willed, hard-working man that he would never have the time for a relationship with someone. Even if he was open to the idea of a relationship, it certainly would not be with a co-worker as he’d deem it unprofessional.

You must live your life pretending that everything is ok. If not, you’ll lose your career and your friends. You’d much rather suppress your feelings than express them and have everything you worked for crumble around you, leaving you in ruins. Mindlessly rubbing your hand similarly to how Egon did, your bottom lip began to tremble. You’re unsure if you are thinking rationally, or if drinking has made you become irrational.

You’re fucked and you don’t know what to do.

You manage to compose yourself again just in time for Janine to return. Yet another weak smile made its way onto your face, and you mumbled a quick thanks to her. Before Janine could ask you something, Peter surprised you by loudly singing along to whatever song was playing, who both of you didn’t notice made his way to your table. “Hey!” Peter chuckled, patting you on the back, “You two didn’t come back to the table, and we got worried.” He pulled up a chair and sat down to your right, “Are you good?” He gave you a cocky smirk, referencing how he saw you and Egon having a close moment. Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of how you were actually feeling, and what he just unleashed.

You wanted to tell someone; someone you could trust. You wanted to tell your friends about your grief and be able to get support. You want someone to say that everything is ok, that you’re overthinking and it’s not a big deal. You want someone to hold you and calm you down, just how Egon did.

Your previously trembling lip came back, and this time you couldn’t control it. You finally broke and you were unable to stop the tears from falling. You wept about your admiration for Dr Spengler and how you could never stand a chance with him. He will only ever be happy with you being his best friend and nothing more. He’s too dedicated to his field of work to allow someone to distract him from it, and that you were not the one that he would choose if he ever chose anyone at all. Peter’s smile was wiped clean off his face in shock at the revelation, looking up to Janine. She could only rub your back to ease your emotional pain. She had a suspicion you felt this way but never wanted to pressure you into opening up.

“Holy shit.” Not being a man of sentiment, Peter was unsure on what to do in this situation. Typically, he would crack a joke to ease the tension, but he had never seen such raw vulnerability coming from you that he wouldn’t dare abuse that. Now that he thought of it, it all made sense. He noticed your adoring gazes towards Egon, the extra sweets you’d share with him during frustrating research, and all the times he caught you giving unnecessary compliments to the Doctor. Peter wanted to tell you that you’re wrong, that Egon adores you endlessly but is too much of a coward to admit it himself or you. He can see how Egon acts extremely different when you’re in the room; he lingers close to you when working in the lab, his timid smiles when you compliment him, the redundant questions he asks just to hear your voice, the awful jokes he tells to hear your laugh. For God’s sake, Peter has a doctorate in psychology, but he doesn’t even need that to tell you Egon is head over heels for you. But Peter can’t tell you that because he knows you and your self-doubt; you’d believe he was pulling your leg and feel even more hurt. No, you must hear the truth from the man himself.

As you sobbed into your drink, the music covering your ugly cries, Peter came up with an idea, a vow to himself to get his two friends to be together. Your attraction isn’t unrequited, and Peter needs to throw the both of you into an intimate situation so you can realise that.

#egon spengler x reader #ghostbusters #where the boys are #egon x reader #egon x you #egon spengler x you

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heavymetalchemist · 3 years

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I think it’s easy to forget that Wei Wuxian is strongly villain-coded. We see the story from his perspective, we know his reasons and justifications, if you’re watching CQL and paying attention you can figure out the core transfer before the reveal. We know that Wen Qing and Wen Ning are good guys. We know that the Burial Mounds gang is a bunch of tired uncle/aunts trying to grow some stupid radishes, a four year old, and the Disaster Bi Gang (none of whom have swords, even!) We know that Wei Wuxian has his heart in the right place, that he feels an incredibly strong debt to the Wen Siblings and by extension their remaining family, that he has no golden core and has no choice but to forsake the sword and cultivate the demonic path, that he defects from the Jiang sect in a fake fight with his brother so that the Jiang sect won’t suffer the consequences of his actions, even though they have Secret Soup later.

But if you’re not us, the audience? If you’re, for example, Sect Leader Yao?

Hey did you all hear about how Wei Wuxian got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses for violently lashing out at the Jin sect heir?

Hey did you all see how he doesn’t carry his sword any more and claims it’s because he’s so badass that he doesn’t need it? And he has that Stygian tiger seal, so maybe it’s not bullshit? Can you even fight against that with a sword?

What kind of power does this guy even have? He’s a teenager! He drinks all the time and he’s moody and surly and holy shit did you hear what he did at that Wen outpost? He tortured all of them to death! Ugly stuff, man. Gruesome way to go. Maybe even worse than what Wen Ruohan did, at least a hot poker doesn’t make you claw your own eyes out.

Oh shit, he just stormed into this banquet and just SAID “if I want to kill someone who can stop me” and he still has that tiger seal I think we should be worried???

He just busted a bunch of Wen cultivators out of prison! And then he ran off to the Burial Mounds??? And his sect leader didn’t even know anything about it? Is he going rogue? Is he starting an uprising? This demonic cultivation stuff really seems to be corrupting him!

Oh man he got kicked out of the Jiang sect? You mean even the man he grew up with, who he was raised with practically as a brother, can’t control him any more? Did you hear about his fierce corpse? They call him the Ghost General! He’s unstoppable! What are we going to do if he comes for us?

He could be building a whole army in there, Sect Leader Jin said so! Who knows what kind of sick, twisted stuff he’s getting up to! Don’t forget all that horrible shit in the Sunshot Campaign, remember when he was raising the Wens’ own dead to turn against them? He could do that to us! He’s working with the Wens now, even! He’s gone totally crazy!

We can’t let some outlaw have all this power. It’s putting the safety of all of us at risk. What if it’s just another Wen Ruohan waiting to happen? (especially applicable if you’re thinking he’s using Yin iron as in CQL!) If we let him consolidate his power too much, then he’ll be unstoppable!

HOLY SHIT he murdered the Jin sect heir and his cousin with his fierce corpse! That’s the man his former shijie married! The one he punched in the Cloud Recesses, remember when the Lans kicked him out because he was so unruly and disrespectful? Yeah! It was probably revenge! Have we done anything to him? Oh gods what if we’re next???

A major point of MDZS/CQL is how important reputation is, and how that affects everything. Wei Wuxian’s reputation is straight-up villainous. We, the audience, know that he’s trying his best, that he’s a traumatized teenager with a shitload of emotional baggage trying to do the right thing and repay a colossal debt, that he’s made choices that he now has to try and live with, etc. But to the rest of the world this guy has fucking lost it, he’s gone off the deep end and he has an incredibly powerful weapon and a mode of cultivation that seems to corrupt you and turn you into a monster, and frankly, they’re not wrong! It does affect his temperament and he does end up killing a lot of people and he is out of control!

MDZS/CQL is interesting precisely because we’re getting an entire Villain Apology Story. A long time ago I read a post by someone on here saying they find Jiang Cheng challenging to write about because he’s the protagonist of a different story, and he really is. He’s the guy whose former shixiong turns into a villain in pursuit of power, the Obi-Wan to WWX’s Anakin, the one who sees how incredible power corrupts and is obligated to fight against it. Having to fight against a former ally who was seduced by “the dark side” (in this case, demonic cultivation) is a story that gets told over and over, but always condemning the one who went to the dark side. He’s the blackened protagonist, the aren’t you tired of being nice, don’t you want to go ape shit power fantasy, where we as the audience can justify his actions because we know he did it to save his brother, his sister, the Wen remnants he owes a debt to. He isolates himself from the people who love him to protect them, he refuses Lan Wangji’s help because he’s convinced he just wants to lock him up and stop him from using demonic cultivation because he’s a righteous upstanding Lan (totally unaware of LWJ’s intense crush, obviously). He jokes about it but he knows he’s being painted as the villain, and he’s in denial about how much that will affect him, because after all… he’s the Yiling Laozu, and he knows his power. But so does everyone else, and they’re rightfully terrified!

And yet? When he comes back, LWJ still wants him, still cares for him, will move heaven and earth to protect him. JC cares about him so much he’s having a Constant Crisis about it. And WWX has not forgotten his shijie or shidi, immediately cares about Jin Ling, and still is the man who really just wanted to be free and grow some goddamn radishes. He accepts that he paid for what he’s done with his death, and just wants to start over.

It just drives me nuts when people pretend like WWX was an angel who did nothing wrong because the whole POINT is that he was a villain-coded gay (well, bi) and the man you had to really watch out for was the polite, thoughtful, soft-spoken one that worked his way up from a tragic backstory. It’s a whole subversion and it’s awesome!

#mdzs meta #wei wuxian #yiling laozu #of course wwx has a good heart but remember when that kid shot an arrow at him and he threw it right back through his heart?#remember when JC and LWJ walked into that Wen outpost and were like oh fuck oh man what the fuck?#remember when he almost busted out chenqing to murder JZX over a SOUP MISUNDERSTANDING?#this is not a wwx hate post this is a pls understand complex characters and nuance post #that audience knowledge is NOT character knowledge #is this a lowkey NMJ defense post? yes.

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acatnamedpusheen · 3 years

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Le Parole Lontane Pt.1

Damiano David x reader

Pt.2

Genre: Angst/smut (in next part)

Warnings: Slight cursing and sexual content

Snippet: He made you feel like home, truly loved, truly special, but then came the fights.

"Give me one night to prove you I love you more than anything in the world and then you decide whether we get back together or not."

A/N: I don't even know if this is remotely good (or just straight up cringe) or if I'll stay consistent and actually write what I have planned for the next part but hey here have this!

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You saw him again, after 2 months. You saw him again and you could feel a warmth deep within you, as if it was the first day of spring. At the same time, you could feel a sharp coldness piercing through your heart, like the freezing cold air of a snowy winter.

That's what Damiano always did. He shook things up in your life since the day he entered it. He confused you as he made you feel emotions you never thought you could experience. He made you feel like home, truly loved, truly special, but then came the fights. Those were the times you couldn't understand him and it hurt. It hurt because you felt inadequate, at fault. It hurt because small cracks would be created on the beautiful image of your relationship. And those cracks would be filled with feelings of guilt, regret.

"Just how much more insensitive could you be, Y/N?"

The concert was starting in half an hour and you two had picked up a fight backstage. Usually this happened when you were alone at home, but this time it was different and you could feel it all along.

"So now somehow I'm the insensitive one?!"

"I'm insensitive for trying to be there for you and not leave you drowning in your own problems?!"

You raised your voice not caring if anyone in the next rooms heard you. You've had enough of Damiano constantly snapping at you or even ignoring you the past few days while you were trying to be supportive.

"It was obviously of no use, so why where you so convinced that you were actually helping?"

There came the hurtful words and little did you know that this was not the worst. It pained you to see him like this because you knew he wasn't his usual self. Yet he made you feel like you weren't enough, that you didn't deserve him.

"I can't believe we're doing this..." you sighed trying to keep it together.

"I shouldn't have bothered, is that what you want to hear? Is that what you want to hear so we can stop this stupid fight?"

You could sense the tears forming in your eyes, but you held them back. You were willing to face him without breaking down, you were willing to prove that you were strong.

But what's the point of pretending to be strong, when you're gradually falling apart on the inside?

"I'd like to see you stop being a stupid bitch."

No, you must have heard wrong, he couldn't have said such thing to the person he so dearly loved and cherished. To the person he could hold in his arms forever, who's kisses gave him life, who's smile would bring the light.

But indeed those words fell from the lips of a man that had once shown you a new world.

You had no control over your trembling body as you gave Damiano a hard slap. Never would you have imagined yourself doing such thing especially to him, but that night proved to have been unprecedented in many ways.

"Alright then, you're not seeing me ever again."

were your last words probably 10 minutes before the show started. The show that you wouldn't be watching. The show after which you wouldn't hang out with the whole band and later make love to Damiano.

There was no way you could have stayed after he disrespected you like that. You needed time, both of you, to calm down and think it through, to decide whether you really wanted to be together or not.

And so days went by which turned to weeks then months. You decided to basically dissapear from Damiano's life, refusing to answer any of his calls or texts.

The first few days he seemed desperate, calling several times a day only to be greeted by the colorless beeping sound of the phone, in vain waiting that he'd finally get to hear your voice.

You'd be staring at the bright screen, phone in silent, reading his name over and over again that seemed somehow more and more alien to you.

And once he'd get tired of waiting for you to pick up he'd text you. Things like "I'm sorry", "Can we please talk?", "I never meant those words" "Y/N please answer me" had stayed in front of your glistening eyes, but not once did you respond.

You'd also cut off ties with the rest of the members at least for the first few weeks until you were feeling like keeping in touch with Victoria. But nothing more than texts since anything that reminded you of Damiano made your heart sink.

And that sinking feeling was indeed there when you saw him again after about 2 months. Oddly enough though, a part of you just wanted to run straight to his arms and never let go.

It happened at a random coffee shop in the city center. You saw him first when you had just gotten your order and tried to leave before he noticed you, but failed.

Once you locked eyes with each other, you found it impossible to move, giving him the chance to approach you.

"Can we talk now?"

Without uttering a single thing, you moved past him towards some table at the far end of the shop with him following close behind.

There was no room for further postponement of the issue. Whether you ended things or not you ought to have a discussion to clear everything out. After all you did still love him and wanted back that special spark he created in your life, but you couldn't go on if there was a price to pay.

"I missed you" he said with a pained smile once you were both sat across each other.

"Last time I checked, I was an annoying stupid bitch, what changed?"

He sighed, looking away. These words now coming from you, sounded heavier than he'd thought.

"Y/N, you have to understand I don't mean it, I never meant it! Sometimes stress just messes things up."

"Just?! This wasn't a 'just' Damiano. Do you realise what it's like when the person you love the most in this world is giving you the cold shoulder and then talks to you like that?"

"Am I still the person you love the most in this world?"

You saw the pain and longing in his eyes as you realised you'd used the present tense. Your heart was speaking louder than your mind and you couldn't hide it anymore.

"I-I don't know, I need time." you abruptly got up, feeling everything suddenly becoming too overwhelming for you to handle.

As soon as you exited the coffee shop a hand got a strong grip on your wrist forcing you to turn around.

"Give me one night." seeing confusion painted across your features, he continued "One night to prove you that I love you more than anything in this world. And then you decide whether we get back together or not."

"Okay..." you agreed hesitantly but were still quite eager to see what he had in mind.

"Alright then, dinner at my place tomorrow at 8."

#måneskin #damiano x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david #damiano david imagine

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Note

hii, i love your writing so much and the black!reader content u provide us cause god knows we need more of them.

i wanted ro ask u if u could do a story where chris meets the reader at some celebrity party and they become really close and they start to fall for eachother. Chris asks her to be his gf but then she becomes distant and they end up getting in an argument and she reveals that she cant date him because shes a stripper and people will probably talk shit about her work being with a celebrity as known as him.

thank u in advanced i love your stories💕

Honey

Summary: After telling Chris the truth, he wants to make things right.

Parings: Chris Evans x black!reader

Warnings: smut, strip club, lap dance, pole dancing, girl on top, fingering, swearing, daddy kink

(A/N: this has taken me for fucking ever and I have no clue why. I struggled, but it’s finally done. I’m so sorry Anon for how long it took. I also couldn’t settle on one single song because you all suggested such good ones so I left it ambiguous.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122 @ljstraightnochaser (wouldn’t let me tag you)

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Chris still couldn’t believe that you’d think he’d care. As if whatever anyone had to say about you would make him want to be with you any less. He doesn’t even know why he let you walk away that night. Or why he let you cry as you finally told him.

Since then he’d been going over everything that happened in his head. The way your eyes welled up as you finally told him the truth. The shock that ran through him because even though he knew how nasty you could be, you still kept up the facade of a sweet innocent girl so well. Which is what drove him crazy about you in the first place.

Except you’d taken that as rejection and he was too late to convince you otherwise. It didn’t stop him from constantly thinking that there was more that he could have done. Hopefully he wasn’t too late.

When you met at that party he was enchanted by you. By your voice. The way you wore your hair. Your beautiful smile. Like he’d met an angel in the flesh. He took you home that night where he couldn’t even wait until he was inside to fuck you, instead bending you over the hood of his car so he could give it to you right then and there.

Between all the fucking and pillow talk, he’d fallen for you. Somehow you’d become his first thought when he woke up and the last one before he fell asleep. He’d fallen for you quick and fast and was tired of the two of you just being fuck buddies. He’d thought you’d felt the same.

It didn’t matter because the truth had come out and you hadn’t talked to him since. He’d thought about texting you, but as corny as it was he needed to do something bigger. So that’s why he was in the audience watching you work that pole. As much as he hated that other men got to ogle you he was more focused on how beautiful you looked up there.

He chuckled because you would choose such a glittery outfit to do this in. Your makeup was all done up all bright and flashy in a way you didn’t usually care for. Your wig was this pastel pink. He was trying to ignore his anxiety telling him that everything could go wrong. Maybe it would, but he at least wanted to try.

“Is it possible to get a private dance from her?” He’d asked one of the bouncers, trying to use his Boston accent so it might not be as noticeable who he was.

“Who?” He asked making this face. “Honey? She doesn’t do lap dances. Something about a boyfriend.”

His heart sunk a little, but he had to do this. “What about for a little extra.” He flashed the money he had in his pocket.

He thought for a minute, before shrugging. “Go wait in room four.”

It took about ten minutes for you to walk in with a silk robe on. Still wearing that wig. He knew that look on your face. The one when you had an attitude. Suddenly he was thinking about that night you got a little snippy with him. He fucked it out of you by pinning you down and showing you who owned that pussy.

Fuck he needed you back.

“Look, I do-“ you stopped when you saw it was him. “Chris, what’re you- what’re you doing here?” You stuttered, your eyes widening.

He took a breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to talk.”

“You could have just called me,” you said.

“Yeah but I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said.

You crossed your arms and looked down at your feet. Trying to stop yourself from smiling. You hated how he turned you into a pile of goo. Especially when he was trying to be mad at you. “How’d you find me?”

“I have my ways,” he replied, standing up. He pulled you into his arms hugging you tightly because he didn’t care if you had an attitude.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away from him. It didn’t matter that you wanted to melt into his arm. “You can’t just come to my job, Chris.”

He sighed because although he was expecting that reaction, he was hoping it wouldn’t happen. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “I know. I just... if I had called would you have answered?” He asked. “Because I’ve been trying to call you. Fuck, what do you want me to do, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know! I just... look I’m scared, okay. Scared of what people might say if they see us together.”

“I don’t care what people have to say.”

“Because you won’t be the one dealing with it!” You suddenly started to feel all teary eyed. You bit your lip as they started to come down your face. “I’m going to be the one getting comments all over social media about what a slut I am. Or about what an awful person I am. Or how I don’t deserve you because you’re fucking perfect.”

He sighed. “And I’ll be there to support you through all of it. Baby, I would never let anyone hurt you. Or disrespect you.”

“It doesn’t matter. They still will.”

“Hey,” he said, hugging you again not caring as you tried to push him away. Instead this time he held you cradling you in his arms because if you were crying he was going to hold you. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“It’s not that, Chris, I’m just scared.” You finally gave in. Clinging to him. What was the point of fighting when you just wanted him more than anything anyway.

“Hey, Buddy,” the club owners voice broke through your moment, making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin, “no touching the dancers.”

Chris retracted his arms. “Sorry. I slipped and he caught me,” you lied. “He was just making sure I was okay.”

Of course he didn’t believe that. Looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Someone heard yelling in the next room. Sounded like someone was upset.”

“No I’m fine. We were just talking,” you said hoping that it didn’t show that you’d been crying. “I promise.”

“Fine, but keep your hands to yourself in my club, Pal.”

As soon as he left Chris sat down, pulling you into his lap. “So what do we do. Ball is in your court,” he said.

“I wanna be with you. I’m just... scared.”

He sighed. “Okay, well we don’t have to tell anyone right away. I just know that I’m crazy for you, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He kissed the side of your head. “Totally and completely crazy.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “I missed you, too,” you confessed.

“Yeah? What about this boyfriend I heard about?”

You tilted your head. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The bouncer said you had a boyfriend so you didn’t give lapdances.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s just what we tell them when we’re not in the mood.” He laughed kissing your forehead. “Or maybe I do have a boyfriend?”

“You want me to be your boyfriend?” He bit his lip. His heart was racing fast then.

“Maybe.” You smiled trying to play it off all I’m

“Maybe, but... I’m...” you pulled away from him only to cross your arms all self consciously again.

“Talk to me, Honey.”

You rolled your eyes. “You think you’re so funny.”

He chuckled. “I like it.” He grabbed your hand so you could sit with him. Making you perch on his lap. “Talk to me.” He pushed a piece of the pink wig out of your face.

“I’m still scared.”

“And, I’ll be there to beat up anyone who wants to talk shit.” Chris held you as close as he could needing to feel you against him. “So, do you like stripping?”

You shrugged. “It’s fun and it pays the bills.”

“Do you want to keep doing it?” He asked.

“I mean... maybe,” you replied. Sort of afraid to say the wrong thing. It’s not that you think Chris wasn’t pro sex work, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with his girlfriend doing it.

“Baby, if you’re worried about money, I don’t mind helping out.”

“I know,” you said.

“And if this is something you want to do, I’m okay with that, too. I don’t care what anyone says.”

You smiled before kissing him. That had been all you needed to hear from him. Not that it would fix everything, but right now it was enough.

“Promise?”

“I swear on Dodger. So you know that means it’s pretty serious,” he replied. You chuckled and he kissed your lips this time. Craving you after spending way to long not being able to touch you. You were still tearing up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sniffled forcing a smile on your face. “So, I never gave you that lap dance.”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Baby, you don’t-“

You cut him off, putting your hand against his mouth. “I know I said I don’t give them, but I’ll make an exception for you.” You licked your lips, giving him this look that he’d recognized when you were trying to take his dick.

He glanced at the door first making sure no one could see them. Yeah it was just a lap dance, but he couldn’t promise that he would keep his hands to himself. You got up before leaning down to peck his lips.

“You can touch me however you want.” You started undoing your robe showing off the little costume you were wearing underneath.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he looked you up and down. As you removed the fabric that was keeping him from being able to see your full body. You turned around slowly giving him an eyeful of all that ass. He reached out to touch it.

“You like?” You asked all breathily, sitting back down on his lap with your back pressed towards his chest. You gyrated your hips feeling him get hard under you. His bulge pressing into your barely covered center.

He groaned into your ear. “Oh, I fucking love it.” He wrapped his arms around your his so tight. Helping you move. Making you mold into him a little deeper.

You bent your arm back so it was resting on the back of his head. He grabbed at your tits kissing your neck. As he pinched your nipple you let out a moan you didn’t hold in quick enough.

You put your hands on his thighs so you could brace yourself. Moving your hips in a circle so you were right on his dick. “Holy fuck,” he panted. You were driving him so crazy. He had to touch you. Had to feel how wet you were just for him.

He dipped his fingers into your panties. You were so wet he knew you were probably making a mess on his jeans. He didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was to make you cum. He missed you to much to care if your pussy made a mess on him.

You had to cover your mouth this time because he’d started rubbing your clit. All soppy and wet. Your hips faltered especially as he lifted up your leg so his other hand could finger your pussy.

“Oh, my god.” You cried into your hands before falling back against him again. You uncovered yourself so you could kiss him instead. Pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth.

It was too much. Him doing both at the same time. You were trying to hold your moans in, but it was hard which is why his kiss just got deeper. Your cunt felt like it was weeping from what he was doing to you. It was way too much.

You were so damn tight. Like he’d dipped his fingers in velvet. While he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t hold your noises in, making you pull him away from him. He stared at you with a smile on his face because you looked so pretty all desperate. “You wanna cum for me?” He asked into your ear. “Wanna cum for Daddy?”

You whimpered, but still nodded because he was right you were so damn close. Hips still angled so you could feel his bulge underneath you. You needed it inside of you so bad.

You grabbed at his cock through his jeans. Needing to feel it in your hands. “You want this, huh. I could take you home and fuck you like a proper girl, but you want me to dick you down at work like a slut,” he said whispered in your ear, taking the hand that was rubbing your clit away so he could stuff his fingers in your mouth.

You moaned around them. Tasting yourself. Moaning as he found your g-spot while he still fingered you. You cried out as he made you cum all over his hand. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“That’s it, Baby. Make a mess for me. I want everyone to know when I leave who makes you cum.” He moved to your clit now rubbing it just the way you liked it was driving you crazy.

When your orgasm finally subsided, you got up so you could turn around in his lap. Now that you were facing him he kissed you hard. Grabbing at your ass.

You moved your hips. Looking down at the wet spot you’d left on jeans. “Oh, Daddy,” you whimpered. “You feel so good.”

“That’s it, Honey.”

You chuckled. “You think you’re so fucking funny.”

He laughed reaching between you so he could finally start to undo his pants. “What it’s cute.”

When you finally got to sink down on his dick, you cried out. You felt so full. Like he’d filled you to the brim.

You tossed your head back with your eyes screwed shut as he lifted you up and down his dick. It felt so damn good. You needed it so badly. Needed him to fill you up with his cum.

“You look at me when I fuck you,” he demanded. Grabbing a fistful of pink hair so you were forced to look at him. You opened your eyes so they could meet his. Biting your lip to keep for being too loud again. “This is my pussy don’t you ever forget it.”

“Yes, Daddy. It’s yours,” you breathed trying to not be too loud. “I don’t let anyone else touch me like you do.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He groaned.

“You’re gonna make me cum again,” you cried because he was so damn thick.

“Cum for me,” he said into your ear making you tingle.

You buried your head into his shoulder as you did. With your pussy walls gripping him like that you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to milk him. Triggering his own orgasm as he captured your lips in another kiss.

“You two, out!” Your bosses voices almost made you jump out of your skin.

“No I’m okay!” You said. “He, um...” you tried to think of a lie. “Because he paid so much I...”

“I’m not running a brothel here.” He glared at you. “You get your shit and get out of my club. Honey, you’re fired.”

He was waited for you outside. Leaning against his Camero. You’d changed back into your sweats. He smiled seeing your normal hair. That bright makeup wiped off. Sad because he was actually really enjoying see you all overly sexed up. “Guess you don’t have to worry about dating a stripper anymore.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said before kissing you.

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug.

“Why don’t you come live with me? You won’t have to worry about rent. Or anything.” He chuckled.

“You wanna be my sugar daddy?” You laughed.

“No. I mean sure, but I wanna be your boyfriend. Do things like protect you and take care of you. Is that okay?”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You have to promise me something first,” you said.

“Anything,” he said, grabbing your hands so he could pull you to him.

“Just when the news hits over us, you’ll fight for me. Won’t let your crazy fans treat me to badly.”

He chuckled. “I will personally tell off every single one of them.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yeah I got picked up by one of the girls,” you said. “My place or yours?”

He chuckled. “Ours.” He smiled before kissing you softly.

#Chris Evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black woman #chris evans x black!reader

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