#//oh pity. Are you alright? do you want to talk about your feelings?

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[em-ontv]

Soothe and pamper.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: it had been a long week of hunting, and Dean said he was fine… until you came in, of course.

Content: fluff, Dean being needy and overdramatic (and clingy), no use of y/n, Sam being the third wheel (kind of)

English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: 653

Dean Winchester was a master at the "I'm fine" act. After years of being on the hunt, he could brush off a rough week like it was second nature. So, when Sam asked if he was okay after their latest exhausting hunt, he just scoffed, as usual.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dean said, waving a dismissive hand like he was brushing off a pesky fly, as if he hadn't spent the last seven days chasing after demons across two states.

"Quit worrying, Sammy."

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further. This was like Dean's default setting—deny, deflect, and pretend like everything was cool, even if he looked like he'd been chewed up and spat out.

But then, you walked into the room.

As soon as Dean caught sight of you, his entire demeanor shifted. The tough-as-nails hunter, who moments ago had been shrugging off his brother's concern, let out an over-the-top groan so loud it echoed through the bunker.

You barely had a chance to say a word before Dean threw himself into your arms like a wounded soldier returning from battle.

"This week—oh, you wouldn't believe it!" He buried his face into your shoulder with a pitiful groan, his voice muffled against your shirt. "It's been so bad, baby. So bad."

You could feel the weight of his body sag against yours, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

It would've been pathetic if it wasn't so funny.

"I don't know how I made it out alive," Dean continued, pulling back just enough to look at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. "The food was nasty, the motel beds were terrible, and don't even get me started on the demons!"

You ran your fingers through his hair as he rambled on, completely lost in the comfort of being with you.

"Do you see this?" He gestured toward his body. "I'm a broken man."

Sam, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "You've gotta be kidding me."

And Dean ignored him completely.

"You're the only one who understands, sweetheart." He whined, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. "Sam's no help, he doesn't get it."

"Dean," you said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You were fine like five seconds ago."

"What are you talking about?" He squeezed you tighter, feigning innocence. "I was just holding it all in. I didn't want to scare Sammy. But now... now I can finally let it all out."

"Uh-huh," you said dryly. "And how much of this is just you wanting to get pampered?"

Dean gasped in mock offense, pulling back to look at you again. "Me? Using my genuine suffering to get pampered? I would never—"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

He hesitated for a second, then smirked. "Okay, maybe a little."

Sam snorted in the background, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "You two are ridiculous," he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, what can I do to make it better, Dean?"

He was still leaning heavily into your embrace. "You. Me. Bed. Cuddles... for my emotional well-being, of course."

You smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "And all your troubles will disappear?"

"Exactly," Dean grumbled, sounding so serious you had to hold back a laugh. "Exactly." He sighed, content now, taking advantage of the situation for all it was worth.

"And if you throw in a back rub, I'll be a whole new man by morning." He added, his lips twitched into a smile.

"Alright, drama queen. But only because I know how hard it is to be you." you laughed softly.

"You're the only one who understands." Dean murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[envy-of-the-apple]

older reader?? SAY NO MORE

you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.

you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.

that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.

if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!

omgggggyou know me so well-

(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

[misted-dream]

DOPAMINE ﹒⌗﹒💒﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 제노 + fem!reader

in which . . . you and jeno are both too secretive and oblivious for your own good.

. . . BE MY LITTLE SECRET

content&warnings | MDNI smut, profanity, fwb dynamics, reader gets picked up, stomach bulge, kinda angsty kinda fluffy, unprotected sex, idk lmk if something’s missed

word count | 3k

notes | inspired by giselle's dopamine! this kinda went off track from what i wanted but oh well!

. . . KEEP IT HUSH HUSH, BUT I THINK I’M IN LOVE

it’s not the first time you find yourself at jeno’s doorstep this late into the night—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. but it is the first time that it’s taken him this long to answer the door.

granted, you didn’t send a prior heads up like you usually do, but you didn’t plan on coming here either. you didn’t plan on being stuck outside jeno’s apartment waiting for a response that you’ve half-accepted isn’t coming.

still, you can’t bring your feet to move away from the entrance, like they’re glued to the floor.

you would be feeling ashamed right now if it wasn’t for the fact that you think you’re beyond feeling shameful tonight. which is what exactly led you here, to jeno.

and as if god took pity on you, your ‘resilience’ is rewarded when you hear shuffling from behind the door. the door creaks open and jeno stands behind it, craggy probably from being awoken well past midnight.

his hand cups the back of his neck, stretching his shoulders as he takes in who’s standing in front of him. “yn?” instinctively, his body steps to the side, allowing you space to step into his home.

the second the last syllable of your name dropped from his lips, you find yourself nothing short of lunging at him, arms wrapping tightly around jeno’s neck.

“woah,” he stumbles back, ultimately steadying himself before slowly running a hand down your back. “hey,” he murmurs softly next to your ear, “it’s okay.” his palm continues moving over you as a way of solace, gently pushing the door shut behind you simultaneously.

you didn’t notice how quick he was to offer comfort; not even knowing what ‘it’ was before telling you that it was alright.

you stay wrapped around jeno for what you wished was eternity, but more so like a few minutes. him staying completely silent as you inhaled deep breath after another, attempting to gain composure back.

jeno finally decides to break the silence, “wanna talk about it?”

“no,” you’re quick with your response, though your voice is slightly wavering.

“okay,” jeno faintly whispers, so quiet that you barely hear him.

you unravel your arms around him, pulling yourself away to look him in his eyes. your faces inches apart, “i just need you.”

jeno flickers between your eyes. he presses a delicate kiss onto your lips before taking in a deep breath, “i’m here.”

the ever-so-familiar all-consuming urge takes over you as you crash your lips onto his, breathing him in like he’s the very oxygen you rely on.

as if by habit, jeno immediately reciprocates. his hands positioned over the small of your back, supporting you as you lean back from the sheer force of jeno kissing you back.

the way you take each other in it’s like you haven’t seen him in years. a certain desperation tasting sweet on your lips as jeno presses himself firmly against you.

he hums into your lips before pulling away to catch his breath.

your thumb rests in the place between his ear and jawline, pulling his face closer until your foreheads meet.

through a shaky breath, you whisper, “i want you.”

“i can give you that,” jeno hauls you up into his arms with ease, like all the other times before this. gently pecking your lips as he carries you into his bedroom.

the room is lit only by the warm orange lamp in the corner. his bedsheets a faded black.

jeno reaches the end of his bed, dropping you onto the soft mattress and towering over your body.

he doesn’t say anything, instead letting his eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. they roam all over you, until his gaze finally fixes onto your face.

his breath hitches before he evens it out again. crawling over your body, you can see the muscles in his arms stretch and pull as he moves, caging you inside of him.

he leans down towards you, attaching his lips to your neck. rather than his usual penchant to suck on your skin as hard as he can so as to leave marks all over you, his lips are soft and fleeting against your neck—leaving a fluttering trail of kisses all the way to your collarbone.

you arch your back into the warmth of his lips.

jeno mumbles against your skin, “tell me what you want.” his breath fanning onto your chest.

your fingers lay flat on the planes of his face, the side of your thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. jeno leans into your touch, tilting his head upwards to look at you.

you meet his gaze, both equally dark and lustful.

“i need you…”

there’s a second part to that sentence that you didn’t voice, but you’re sure jeno can fill in the blanks for himself.

on any other given night, jeno would’ve asked you to finish that statement. but not tonight.

his fingers hook into the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting it up and over you as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world. he tosses the shirt over his shoulder somewhere—you don’t pay attention. immediately, he continues his trail of kisses down onto your chest, over your heartbeat.

his kisses get sloppier by the second, hands tugging at your waist like you can get any closer physically than you already are.

you can’t help the moans that rasp from the back of your throat as his hands make their way up your torso. the warmth of his palm covering the soft flesh of your chest as he hooks a finger into your bra strap.

he pulls his lips away from you, levelling his face with yours again.

jeno runs a hand down your hair, cupping his fingers over your cheek, “you’re so pretty tonight.” his voice coming out as a low, gravelly whisper.

you try to ignore the skip in your chest from that.

technically, he’s not breaking any rules, or rule. the rule being strictly no pet names. jeno thought it strange when you proposed that no matter what, no pet names are allowed to be used, but nonetheless, he went along with it.

“only tonight?” your eyebrows quirk upwards; not passing up on the opportunity he set up perfectly for you.

he subtly rolls his eyes, taking away his hand and planting it firmly into the mattress next to your head. jeno lets silence fill the next two moments, staring at you with an expression you haven’t seen from him before. much more serious than all the other ones you know.

“you’re always pretty. you know that.”

his words knock you speechless, staring at him half-blank and half-stunned as to how you should even respond to that.

you land a soft blow to his chest, “what is wrong with you?” you tease with the slightest hint of a nervous smile on your lips, trying to cut through the tension you’re feeling all over. “i came to get fucked, not… whatever this is.”

“oh, god forbid i be nice for once,” he sighs, causing you to slap your hand onto his chest once again—him chuckling lightly as a result. “who said i wasn’t gonna fuck you as well?”

he presses a faint kiss just off of your lips before moving down to work the buttons on your trousers.

his fingers tug impatiently at the waistband once the button is undone, pulling the fabric off of you. the cool air blankets your bare thighs, and the feeling is quickly replaced by jeno’s hand kneading your muscles underneath his fingers.

"you want to feel good?" jeno kisses your inner thigh, a heat sparking from where his lips touched your skin. "i'll make my pretty girl feel good."

he pushes the elastic band of his pajama pants down, revealing his lower stomach lined with hard packs of muscle.

jeno kneels in between your legs, hand wrapping around the base of his dick—slowly hardening as he pumps his hand up and down his length.

you watch him, flitting between his hand and his expression. jeno sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. just the sight of his cock in his palm is making your hunger pool in between your legs, knees pressing together as you feel the pressure build.

you don't notice jeno watching you as carefully as you were him until he lets a chuckle fall from his lips. "you do need to get fucked, don't you?" he teases with a smile.

your teeth has been sinking down into your bottom lip even without you knowing. growing desperate just at the sight of him kneeling over you.

"so, are you gonna do it or not?" the restlessness ringing in your voice. you feign reaching for your pants slid halfway down your legs, "'cause i can go find someone who—"

"no, no," jeno grasps the wrist that you reached down with, pulling it back up and pinning it to the pillow over your head. "you're staying right here."

he takes your other hand, joining it with the one above your head. though only one of his hands are holding your wrists together, his grip is so tight that you don't think you can break free even if you wanted to.

he leans in, caressing your cheek with his thumb—so close that you can see each individual eyelash lining the edge of his eyelids. "and who can fuck you the way i do?" his eyes travel to your cheekbones, brushing over it with his fingers, "hm?"

"that's a bit cocky, don't you think?" you say, tilting your head to the side and dropping your gaze onto his lips.

his rosy pink lips curve into a cresent shape. "just asking a question, pretty girl."

you're starting to think jeno may be teetering on the borderline of your rule, but you don't bring it up.

"so?" jeno widens his eyes at you slightly, and you meet him with a mirrored expression.

"what?"

"you haven't given me a name."

truth is, you haven't slept with other people since you started sleeping with jeno. and it's not like you're going to anytime soon. even if you did, you know they simply don't compare.

and the worst thing is you know he knows this, too.

"you're so annoying," you want to nudge him away, but he's got your hands trapped.

jeno only smiles an innocent smile, amused at the sight of you writhing to break away under him to no avail. "i'm not going to do anything to you until you answer the question."

you stare into his eyes, and you’re sure he can see the frustration evident in your own.

“really?” is the only response you can give, dipping your chin and cocking your eyebrows up. the tone of your voice telling of your annoyance.

jeno nods, still with that smile on his face—not giving you anything more.

you roll your eyes.

“no one,” your voice low, almost on the edge of being sheepish.

“sorry, what was that?” he tilts his head, turning his ear towards you.

he’s having way too much fun teasing you like this.

you let out a groan. “fuck you,” you spit bitterly, your voice back up to a normal volume.

he chuckles lightly, “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

before you can even think of a witty response to his comment, you feel the friction of him dragging the tip of his cock over your clothed cunt.

“it’d be so easy to just put it in,” his fingers slipping into your underwear, “when you’re this wet.”

he pulls his fingers away, leaning into your face once again. “come on, pretty girl,” he brings his hand up to your lips, pushing them through and letting you suck on it, tasting yourself on his fingers. “tell me who can fuck you better than i can.”

he slides his fingers out, dragging along your lips before completing removing them.

“no one,” you mutter, trying to hide the desperation in you with a breath.

he smirks, “good girl.”

he looks down, bunching the fabric of your underwear to one side before grabbing the base of his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

you’re seeing a side to jeno that you haven’t seen before. usually, sex between you was a quick release. half the time it’s like he’s rushing to get through it with how hard and fast he’s pounding himself into you.

but slowly he pushes himself in you—being gentle with you, almost. moans erupting from his throat before he finally fills you up, as evidenced by the outline of his cock bulging up out of your stomach. the sight of it drives jeno fucking crazy—which is why he always fucks you like a dog in heat.

tonight, though, he’s determined to set a different pace.

his hips stills as your pussy swallows the entire length of his dick. no matter how many times you do it, it’s never something you can fully get used to. your back already arched into him, nails digging into your own palms.

“you always feel so fucking good,” jeno rasps, letting go of his grasp on your wrists and placing it on your waist instead.

he pulls his hips back at a steady pace. you feel every inch of it as it drags against your walls.

with your arms freed, you quickly wrap them around jeno’s neck.

he thrusts into you again, hips stuttering as he lets out a breathy moan. his head falls into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin.

you hold back a cry as he bottoms out, fingers holding furiously onto his shoulders.

jeno builds a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of you—following each thrust with a grunt.

“fuck, jeno,” you whine, thighs clamping tight around him.

he groans, his entire body responding viscerally to his name falling from your lips. and he can’t hold back anymore.

his hips picking up speed as he pounds himself deeper and deeper into you. fingers gripping tighter on your waist and pushing you down on his dick, meeting his thrusts halfway.

he unravels one of your arms from around his neck, laying it out over your head.

“fuck,” jeno lifts his head, leaving your faces mere inches apart. he spreads open your palm, threading his fingers through yours and holding your hand tightly as he keeps up the pace of his thrusts.

your bottom lip is pulled back by your teeth, trying to contain the whimpers and cries that are threatening to escape. you feel the pressure within you building, and creeping dangerously close to its release.

jeno lets out a string of curses, feeling you starting to tighten around him. “baby, i’m gonna—”

with a sudden choke of his words, jeno pulls out. his cock twitching violently as his cum shoots out from his tip, painting your stomach in streaks of white.

the sudden halt of friction leaves your body aching, desperate for sensation again.

your breathing begins to slow as you watch jeno throw his head back, cock still throbbing. looking down, you can see the ribbons of his cum covering your entire torso.

jeno drops his head, seeing the mess he made all over you.

“i’m sorry,” he pants, “i swear to god, you…”

you watch the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face for a moment.

“‘baby?’” your voice taking on a questioning tone, ignoring your body’s pleading for attention.

“it just came over me, i know—” he breathes heavily, giving your hand a squeeze. “i know you don’t like it.”

“then, why’d you say it?” you sounding more defensive than offensive, surprising even yourself when your voice rings in your ear.

“i don’t know, i—” jeno untangles his hand from yours, pushing his hair back from sticking onto his face. “yn, are we really gonna do this?”

“you broke the rule.”

the bluntness of your statement forces jeno to look you in the eyes.

in all honesty, you’re not upset at this. but just the principle of him breaking the rule makes it appear like you are.

“you have to know,” jeno simply mutters.

“know what?”

“god, yn,” he shuts his eyes, turning his face away from yours for a brief moment. “you think i fuck everyone like this?”

he continues when you don’t respond—how could you even respond?

“you think i even fuck anyone who’s not you?”

jeno’s chest swells as he speaks. he pushes a strand of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “i wasn’t being mean earlier when i asked you that question, i—i wanted to know.”

you bite down hard on your lip.

the feeling of not knowing what to say has never settled well within you.

“jeno, i thought we—”

“i know what we agreed on,” jeno cuts you off. “and i’m sorry i crossed that line. you don’t have to—”

“i like you.”

your voice cuts through his. his eyes fixed on yours as he takes in what he just heard.

“what?” jeno’s voice is weak, his face telling of him being caught off guard.

you cup his cheek in your palm, thumb lightly grazing over his cheekbone, “i like you.”

“i thought—”

you press your lips firmly onto his, breaking off the rest of his words. when you pull away, jeno chases after your lips with his own, kissing you like his very life depended on it.

“fuck,” he mumbles against you, letting out a soft chuckle. “you like me.”

you hum as he pulls back, lips glossy under the dim lighting.

“are you saying this is one-sided?” you rib.

a small smirk turns up the corner of jeno’s lips. “you haven’t cum, yet, have you?”

the sudden turn in topic draws your eyebrows together.

jeno moves lower down your body, hands running down the sides of it, until his mouth is hovering over your bare cunt.

“i guess i should show my pretty baby just how much i like her.”

[scarlet-leaves]

The story was concise, blunt, and the other's voice didn't reveal much of what he felt or thought. He struggled to believe it was true; it sounded more like one of the epics he read as a child. But he can't fathom a reason to make up such a story; he could only choose to believe him. From what he knew, the main origin of the downfall of the Raiden Gokaden schools was the senseless killing spree by the head of Hyakume Clan - it was a bitter story that neither his father nor his grandfather ever wanted to tell him in detail. He knew it spoke of resentment passed from generation to generation, a festering wound that caused, other than the fall of the Raiden Gokaden, a fracture between his grandfather and great-grandfather. It was ancient history. His grandfather himself had wished for him to see the world, and he had done just that.

He remained silent for a very long minute, narrowing his eyes to look at Akuji's above the flames, unable to meet his gaze. When he spoke, it was in a soft voice, the tone in which he might have recited a poem.

- If the name Kaedehara still retained some importance I imagine I would have to ask you for reparation with the sword. I don't exclude that until some time ago I might still have considered it a duty.

He weighed every word, without haste.

- I consider no longer being tied to my house, to Inazuma, as a blessing. I was born when our wealth was already running out, and I've never been interested in a luxurious life. The legacy of Isshin art was something of the past, and if it has been lost… it's no longer something that concerns me. For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to live this life. To see the world, to learn about other people's lives. Drinking in all the beauty around me and making it mine. I can sit on the edge of a cliff, look out across the ocean, and say without lying that I'm home. I am richer than I ever could have been if our art had not been lost. I have learned from many different teachers and have never regretted it.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, opening his chest in a sigh.

- You can think I'm a fool. You certainly wouldn't be the first. After I blocked Musou no Hitotachi, the Tenryou Commission took up my case again and recognized that my clan had been wrongly blamed. I had the option to restore my family name and wealth, and I refused it. I've never regretted this either. I won't father any child, I'm fairly certain of this. Thus my life is mine only. I have no debt if not for the people who have helped me in my journey. My hearth is full. But for what it concerns your question…

He tried once again to look him in the eyes, although every time he did so his mind took him back to those fateful seconds in front of the Tenshukaku, terror gripping him through his core.

- I won't do anything at all. I can't do anything because… - he stopped, looking away. The realization seems to distraught him, if just a little, but after a moment he smiled broadly – because it's not my story. It's yours. And one that pained you, clearly. Maybe you really took it from me… now it's of little importance. I don't know what my ancestor did to deserve such immense anger, nor what mistake was made that led you to such extreme acts. And I don't think to understand fully what do you mean with "erase yourself from existence", but I'm happy you failed. I'm happy I was able to hear this story, and to hear it from you.

He stopped to add a piece of wood to the fire, which made a soft crackling noise.

- I really don't want to intrude further. If you want to tell me about it in detail, I'm more than happy to listen. I'm curious, and the topic naturally touch me a lot - but don't do it just because you think you owe it to me. I don't think that's true. And if when you heard my name you thought I might want revenge… Don't. I'm sorry for causing you such distress.

“Hmm. We are both at a disadvantage if I am being honest.”

Akuji brought his gaze to the samurai. He does not know the details of what has changed, just that it had changed, and the puppet does not possess a great deal of tact.

“I am directly responsible for the loss of the Isshin art, in addition to 3 other schools of the Raiden Gokaden. The reason you stand before me now, is that you are a descendant of someone I had once considered friend and family. My aim had been to destroy it and everyone, yet, that day I spared Yoshinori, who in turn stopped practicing due to my actions. A misguided and ill vendetta.”

“The reasons you don’t know this is caused by an attempt to remove myself from existence entirely… and instead all things still came to pass, lives were still lost. History warped to accommodate the very crimes I committed. Fate unchangeable, friends and family… still scattered to dust. It is a regret that I can never repair and only claim responsibility for. Now fate leads you to me. What will you do with it?”

The puppet let his eyes fall back to the fire, moving no further. It was simplistic and blunt, but this is all he can offer. Niwa, Tatarasuna details… details… they stung in his memory, digging in and clinging to him. Things that can never be righted, but they can be paid for… and he will drag that payment out of Dottore in blood.   

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Rafe’s revenge worked

Might make a part 3?

pt 1

Warnings: lying, slight manipulation, mentions of sex

You unlocked the door to the chateau, your heart pounding at the afterthought of what you just did.

You had sex with your brothers enemy.

The 2000 dollars sat heavy in your pocket, you had no clue what type of excuse you would make for having it.

You went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. You downed the water, and when you turned around John B stood in front of you.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaning against the wall, asking as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Work… it’s Monday.” You said, as if it was obvious.

“What took you so long?”

“I stayed a little longer helping close up. It’s not that serious.” You shrugged, attempting to push past him.

“Don’t bullshit me.” He held his hand out, stopping you from walking away.

“What are you talking about? Are you drunk or something?” You scoffed.

“I know you were with Rafe, and I know you had sex with him.”

Your face dropped and your heart pounded. John B pulled out his phone, opening up the audio and shoving it in your face.

“I- I didn’t! That’s not even me!” You tried to defend yourself.

He then pulled out another picture, of Rafe standing with a giant smile and the apron with your name on it in his hands.

You looked down at your waist, fuck. You must’ve forgotten it.

“John B-“

He scrolled through the messages more, the conversation between the both of them proof.

“I’m sorry, JB, I’m sorry-“ tears started to fall down your face.

He sighed.

“I- I think you should leave for a couple days, y/n.”

“W-what? You’re kicking me out? Over this shit?”

“He- he- he tried to kill me, and my friends! I’m sorry, y/n. Go… pack your stuff and stay with one of your friends. Only for a little. Okay?”

You wordlessly went to your room, grabbing bags and shoving things in there.

“We can talk when you get back. I- I just can’t right now.” He told you as he followed you into your room,

He stuttered your name out when he walked onto the patio behind you, but you didn’t even look at him as you went outside, sobbing and walking. It was dark out, dangerous, and cold. You shivered as you walked through the cut.

“Oh shittt, look what the cat dragged in.” Kelce nudged Rafe. He had shown, and boasted to all his friends about you. Rafe turned his head, looking at your distraught figure.

“No shit.” Rafe scoffed, leaning out his car window and whistling to get your attention from the other side of the road.

You snapped your head over there, your eyes widening. You stormed up to him.

“Oh, shit, someone’s ready for round t-“

You punched him, square in the face. He groaned, and chuckled at it, and before you could do anything else he jumped out the car.

“The fuck was that for?”

“You’re such an asshole! You ruined my fuckin’ life! I got kicked out, and- and now I have to see your stupid fucking face again!” You hit his chest, him just having a smirk on his face the whole time.

“Oh, shit. I’m… sorry. How’d your brother take it?” He asked in faux pity, slowly wrapping his arms around you and looking over to Kelce in the car with a grin.

“He’s pissed!” You sobbed into his chest. “And he’s upset, and he- he-“

“Shh. Shhh. It’s alright. Uh.. if you want, you could hang at mines for a couple of days.”

“No. I’m just gonna-“ you pushed him off of you, realizing who it was again.

“C’mon, it’s cold, you’re literally shivering! I got blankets and shit in the car. You can’t walk all the way there.”

“Rafe, I can’t-“

“Think of it as my apology. Please. I feel.. just so bad. And… I just want you to stay, just for a couple days. Think of it, we’ll have the house to ourselves for days. My dad’s on some trip with my stepmom, Sarah’s hanging out with your brother” he said it with a tinge of bitterness, making you suspicious.

“and my other one is at her friends.”

“Did you-“ you sniffled. “Did you fuck me because your sister got with my brother?” You asked him, catching onto the distaste he had about it.

“What? Course not. What type of crazy shit is that?” He scoffed. Yea, that’s exactly what he did.

“Fine.” You mumbled when you felt another breeze blow past, the cold making you shiver again.

“Poor thing.” Rafe mumbled as he opened the door, motioning for you to get in the back.

“Here.” Rafe threw his jacket at you, you taking it and quickly pulling it over your shoulders.

Kelce looked at him with a knowing look, and Rafe held his hands up in mock defense, turning the car on again.

——

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321 @theoraekenslover @ilovemensomuchagh

[carmenized-onions]

I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

 “Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

Next Part

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3

Thank you for requesting sweetheart!

cw: signs of anxiety

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 

Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 

Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 

“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 

“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 

“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 

You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 

By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 

“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 

Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 

You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 

“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 

“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 

James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 

“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 

Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 

James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 

“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 

A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 

Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 

Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 

“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 

Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 

“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 

You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 

You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 

“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 

Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 

Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 

You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 

“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 

“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 

You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 

“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”

You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 

“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  

“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 

“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”

[night-raven-tattler]

First kiss, what bliss... maybe...

Summary: Neither you nor your partner have had your first kiss yet. What kind of shenanigans would that information bring?

Characters: Cater, Jamil, Vil × GN!Reader (separate)

Warnings: misunderstandings

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Facing Cater after what happened felt like the hardest challenge you've ever gone through

Curse Magicam and curse couple tags and couple selfies, curse all of it!

The memory was fresh in your mind, making you cringe at the situation

You just wanted to take a cute selfie with your boyfriend, like any normal person

And you thought it would be funny and cute to kiss him on the cheek mid selfie

But he happened to have the same idea...

And your lips unceremoniously clashed over each other

As if the situation wasn't very embarassing already, Cater's reaction made it worse

He awkwardly laughed while scratching the back of his head, then left the room in a hurry

Horrible feedback for your first kiss, really

Were you that bad at kissing? But you didn't even have time to be bad, it was barely anything but his lips landing on yours

Sevens, even thinking about it made you feel like your face was on fire

You cursed all teen rom coms for lying to your poor teenage heart as you buried yourself under your blankets

But soon enough your phone started buzzing like crazy

One, twice, thrice

Twenty times

You picked it up to check what was going on, when you saw none other than your boyfriend spamming you with apology texts

"i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry" "i'm sorry"

His apologies only made you more confused

"wait why"

You could tell he was trying to pick between keysmashing his way to forgiveness and trying to find a coherent response as the loading chat bubble appeared and disappeared on your screen for a few minutes

In the end all he sent back was one text

"nvm i'm coming back to ur dorm stay there"

You undug yourself out of your fluffy pity party and, before you could process properly the situation you were in, Cater knocked at your door

You combed your fingers through your hair before taking a deep breath and opening the door

Just to see a Cater just as frazzled as you were

"I'm so sorry I didn't know what to do I wanted to be cute-"

"I was so stupid, I don't know what came over me, I panicked and-"

You talked over each other, then stopped and sunk into a bit of an awkward silence

Not even your conflict solving skills were on your side today

"Uhm, Let's just... I mean, can I come in?"

"I will let you in... before Riddle hears you used 'can' instead of 'may'."

Cater's eyes widened before he snorted, and a small smile blosommed on his lips

"Alright, don't mind me~"

His sing songy delivery came out slightly tense as he hesitated before stepping into your room and making a bee line to your bed

Another awkward, albeit shorter, silence took over the room before you sighed

"Cater, I'm sorry. I wanted to be cute and kiss you on the cheek, I'm sorry if I overstepped something or-"

"Oh, no no no! That's not it at all!"

Cater's cheeks grew redder than you've ever seen them

"You have nothing to apologise for! It's just..."

His eyes went from your face to the floor, then to the lamp on your nightstand

"It took my by surprise, and I was not prepared at all, and I reacted very poorly... It was so much different than what I thought our first kiss to be."

He reached out to his hair and started playing with a strand, something you noticed he did when he needed something to do with his hands

You took a seat next to him on the bed and sighed

"To be honest... I have no idea how I wanted our... first kiss... to be like... Since that was my first and all."

Cater's eyes widened and he snorted

"Yours too?"

Hearing his words, you turned to face him, and saw an expression hard to read

"Wait, what? Really?"

Cater nodded

You snorted, then burst into laugher

He had no idea why, but Cater also joined in with his own confused giggles

"So both our first kisses kinda sucked. Man...!"

Cater lied on your bed, obviously more relaxed than before

"...Well, at least I know I'm not the only victim of the lies about the romcom first kiss."

"You know what they say about misery loving company!"

You lied next to Cater, thinking about how ridiculous everything was

And you were glad to see Cater back to his more relaxed self

"So... No hard feelings, then?"

His question made you giggle

"None. Only if you promise me a proper redo, though."

Cater turned on his side, prompting his head on his arm

"Totally! Not right now, though. My heart had enough of a workout today."

"Same..."

You spent the rest of the day watching cute videos on his Magicam feed

The atmosphere turned back to normal once again, and you almost forgot about the incident

Until a few weeks later, when Cater was finally ready for the proper redo

『••✎••』

You were leaving Sam's and checking items off of a list, making mental notes to yourself

Ingredients for chakli and shankarpali? Check. Enough paper to make origami jasmines until your hands hurt? Check.

The permission slip from Kalim that allowed you and Jamil to stay out of the dorm for the night? Check. The contracts from Azul binding your friends to the responsibility of keeping Kalim in check while you and Jamil are away? Check

Were your preparations a little extreme? Maybe, but you had a very important goal in mind

Several weeks prior, you were bestowed with a very valuable information: Jamil never had his first kiss

Neither did you, but you wanted to do something about it

After a lot of shifts at the Mostro Lounge, you finally were able to put together the perfect date

A picnic under the stars in the garden of Ramshackle dorm, where you could create the perfect opportunity to give your boyfriend the first kiss he deserves!

You skipped on your way to your dorm from excitement and prepared everything for the special night

But whatever deities ruled over Twisted Wonderland decided that it would be funny to cause an unpredictable downpour on the very night you were planning to be out

All Jamil could do to help your disappointed self was to help you gather your things and resume the "picnic" in your dorm room

Despite him trying to comfort you, you still had a hard time recovering, as the night you were so emotionally invested in was ruined

Jamil sighed as it sunk in that the issue was deeper than he thought, and he made you sit down with him

"This wasn't just a normal date, was it? Talk to me, Reader."

You sighed and grabbed Jamil's hand

"I'm just... really disappointed, I guess. I worked really hard to make this date special! And this stupid rain ruined the night. I'm sorry..."

Jamil raised an eyebrow

"Special? Were you preparing something for a special occasion?"

You hated how perceptive he was sometimes

You looked away, and your reaction to his question was all the confirmation Jamil needed

He still waited for you to tell him, regardless of how embarassed you grew with every second of silence

So eventually you caved after what felt like a whole hour of silence

"...You know how you told me you haven't had your... your first kiss?"

Jamil listened to your explanation with a growing blush on his cheeks

"I wanted to make it memorable! I haven't had my first kiss either so I thought it would be great to make it great for the both of us! But then it started raining, and it made the food all soggy, and I just wasted three weeks of my life for a stupid contract with Azul and my friends to make sure Kalim doesn't accidentally start an international conflict while I'm trying to smooch you!"

Your little rant left Jamil speechless

You were expecting some sort of snort or sarcastic remark, but you heard... nothing

So you turned your face to look at Jamil

And he was deep in thought, eyes not even looking at you

His mouth opened and closed a few times

Jamil's face never settled on an expression for too long, his conflicted feelings coming to the surface

The silence was making your nervous, but it was obvious Jamil was weighting his words very carefully

"Reader, I don't need a special setting for you to show you care about me."

"I know you don't need it, but you deserve it! You work so hard all the time and you never get the praise you deserve, I wanted to spoil you as much as I could and give you an unforgettable memory..."

Jamil was rendered completely speechless

And, when your words finally sunk in, his face started burning like a campfire, and he pulled his hood over his head

"You... You are impossible..."

Your hand was still holding his, and you gave it a squeeze in reassurance

The silence that befell on you was just a bit awkward, but you gave Jamil time to recover emotionally

A few minutes passed when he pulled the hood off and asked you to make a pillow fort with him in your room

"I can't let your efforts go to waste, not after... after everything you've said."

Despite your disappointment, you'd never say no to a night with your boyfriend

So you took the chairs, Jamil took the blankets and pillows, and you set up a pretty nice fort

It wasn't the starry sky you imagined yourself sitting under, but maybe Jamil was right

You didn't need anything fancy to have a special moment

And the way he was clinging to you while you were running your fingers through his hair was even more special to you than anything

You chuckled to yourself at the visage of Jamil Viper, the most tense and closed off teen you know, completely making himself comfortable in your embrace as if your body was made to hold him and cherish him

He raised his head, his attention caught by your chuckle

Maybe it was the way Jamil looked more relaxed than usual or the way that he was simply looking at you, expecting nothing but to satiate a small curiosity

But Jamil looked really beautiful to you in that moment

And kissable...

"This is kind of embarassing... I really wanna kiss you right now..."

Jamil smirked at you

"I thought you needed a meteor shower and a full course meal to get a kiss."

"...Never mind, you ruined it."

You were sure he wouldn't let it die until you actually kissed

A problem you could solve really easily

You started plotting another plan; this one was simpler, and it involved just you making him look at you and leaning in a little closer...

『••✎••』

"Did you have any voice acting roles animated movies and stuff?"

Vil contemplated your question for a few seconds while he applied some skin cleanser on his face

"A few, yes. I prefer when people experience my presence fully when I act, but I don't mind bringing a different type of character to life if I like the project."

You were in Vil's room, using your priviledge of being the partner of a Housewarden to spend the night with your boyfriend without the need of a formal pass

As fair as Vil was, he didn't mind your daring actions as they amused him

To pass the time while Vil prepared himself to go to bed, you decided to play 20 questions

"Do you prefer open ended media or do you like to know what comes out of the fate of the characters?"

Vil was good at asking questions, as they really made you fall deep in thought

"Hmm... I think both are pretty great. It depends on the setting the most. An open ending works well with a thriller movie, but I like a proper ending for a romcom."

Your boyfriend hummed at your response

You watched Vil as he reached for his serum, and you caught a glimpse of a smile on his face

"Smart answer. That's the beauty of media, it allows you to tell different kinds of stories in different ways."

Vil opened the serum bottle and let a few droplets fall on his face

"Have you had your first kiss for a role or in real life?"

"Neither."

"Wait. Really?"

Vil snickered at your reaction as he met your eyes through his mirror

"What, is it really that shocking that I haven't had my first kiss yet?"

He was something else: usually people would be embarassed at the prospect of having to admit they haven't had their first kiss at all

"Kind of? I assumed that... well, I know that people who've been acting for as long as you have been exposed to a lot of things before the proper time."

"I can't deny that. I could say that I had a lot of people making sure I never did anything too... extreme."

Vil grabbed his moisturizer, and you had no idea how to feel about losing count of the products he has used so far

While he applied the product, Vil smiled to himself mischievously

"What about you? Have you had your first kiss?"

Your cheeks warmed up in embarassment

"No..."

Your reply was followed by an awkward laugh, and it drew a chuckle out of Vil

For the first time in a while, Vil got up from his chair and sat on his bed next to you, leaning closer

His closeness to you and your confession made your cheeks grow hot

The floral scent of his freshly applied products and the teasing glint in his eyes made you dizzy

"Oh? Is that so?"

Your confusion suddenly vanished as you realised what Vil was about to do

Were you about to kiss?! Right now?!

Vil leaned in very close to your face while you panicked and tried to figure out what to do

He kept a distance of barely two centimeters for a few seconds

Then he kissed your nose, making you confused

"You've been able to go on this long without your first kiss, you'll be fine waiting a little longer..."

You were shocked as Vil backed away with a smile on his face and cheeks dusted pink

It finally dawned on you: he was only teasing you

He only laughed when you gave him a swat to his thigh, wordlessly accepting your offense as warranted

The audacity of this guy...

"You really though I'd allow our first kiss to be anything less than spectacular? My line of work has been advertising a life changing moment, and I feel it's my duty to... live up to the hype."

Your indignation, as lighthearted as it was, refused to allow your pride to be wounded by such teasing

You raised yourself from your spot and, with a courage fueled only by impulsivity, you put your hand at the back of Vil's neck

You pulled Vil close to your face, action that earned you a gasp from your beloved

Almost all courage left you but you still continued with your plan: you waited a few seconds before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth

"Your... line of work also has teasers and trailers, right? Consider this one of them."

Vil was more than shocked; to your surprise, he seemed awestruck by your actions

A lovely pink took over his face as a proud smile bloomed on his features

"Maybe I will."

『••✎••』

[d4yl1ghts]

After I read unfair i thought you could make a “second part” as to where reader takes Anthony to her old house to show him where she lived and what she used to do throughout her days 

unfair (2)

anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: you take anthony to the house you grew up in and he sees how those who aren’t so wealthy live

part 1

-

Specks of yellow and gold breached into you and your husband’s shared bedroom as you slowly awoke from your slumber. Anthony felt you moving and brought you closer to him, snuggling into you. “Stay.”, he spoke with his morning voice, you always loved that voice. He sounded much deeper than usual. “I have to visit my mother, Tony.”, you replied, attempting to ignore the feeling of his rough hands around your waist. “I do not want you to leave me.”, he responded. You rolled you eyes with amusement. “Fine, you can come with me then.”

The eldest Bridgerton then hastily removed the sheets from his naked body and started to pick out his clothes for the day. You stared at him for a second before picking out yours too. “Do you like what you see?”, he questioned teasingly with a smirk on his face. “Of course, my Lord.”, you answered with a hint of cheek in your tone. “We must get ready, my love. You can look forward to that later.”, he winked.

The both of you had finally gotten changed and had begun the ride in your carriage. You gazed at Anthony’s perfect face, sensing his nerves. He has met your mother before of course, but he has never gone to your old house and he has heard many things about it due to your background. You were from a poorer family so he didn’t know what to expect. You gently grabbed his calloused hands gaining his attention. “What is wrong, my love?”, you cautiously asked. “I do not know if I even want to see this place you grew up in if it is so bad.”, he answered with pity in his voice. “It is not as bad as you may think. I managed to live there and look at where I am now.”

“Yes, I must be overthinking it.”, he added, placing a chaste kiss against your temple.

After an hour in your carriage you had reached the edge of London. The carriage halted suddenly. “We are here.”, you stated. Anthony, ever the gentleman, ran out of the carriage and took your hand, placed his lips on it, and guided you out of the vehicle. “You do not even know where you are going.”, you giggled slightly at Anthony’s charming nature.

You knocked on the door three times before your mother answered. “Oh, hello, dearest.”, she replied cheerfully. Anthony peeked his head in and saw how small the house was. There was a tiny kitchen with barely enough space for all the appliances and there was no maids anywhere to be seen. He could see a bit of the upstairs and make out that there were only two rooms up there. “After you.”, he said gently as your mother opened the door wider to allow you both in.

“So, are there any maids here, Lady Y/L/N?”, he hesitantly enquired, he had already assumed the answer. “Ah, no, my Lord.”, the older woman responded. “We do the work ourselves here.”, she added. “Oh.”, he awkwardly rocked on his heels. “Come on, my love.”, you grabbed his hand and guided him into the living room that had one sofa. It also looked slightly dusty. That was probably because there were no maids, he thought.

After an hour of talking and catching up with tea, you and Anthony started the journey back to your manor. “My love, you look a bit out of it.”, you stated as you took in his widened eyes that were staring out the window of the carriage. “Dear, I’m fine.”, he said. He paused, then added: “How did you grow up there?”

“It was alright, I had shelter and was provided food and water.”, you answered. “Well, I love you so much and I’m so proud of you.”, he tenderly replied. You stared at the man in awe of how you had gotten so lucky before you kissed him with such passion that he was left speechless. Let’s just say that you didn’t make it back on time and you got your treat earlier than you expected.

[ivvyela]

imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.

i know, i know - but please, let me cook.

wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.

after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."

"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."

"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "

"oh, i actually... i never told them."

"...come again?"

"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."

"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"

"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "

"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."

which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"

(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)

peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?

and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?

and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.

and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.

so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.

and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.

("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."

"you're... huh?"

"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")

peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.

wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.

maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.

(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part two

part one ←

summary: Your second meeting doesn’t really go as you planned, but you couldn’t complain. After all he asked you out on a date, right?

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, Remus is a lovesick puppy, Marlene McKinnon, cause she deserves it, talking about tough times, but nothing bad.

wc: 2,4k

Enjoy!

“So you say he’s pretty hot, huh?” Marlene looked at you with a sly grin dancing on her lips, as she spoke.

You rolled your eyes at her suggestive tone, and almost instantly, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, causing you to subconsciously look away and hide your face in the comforting warmth of your coffee, as you take a slow sip to cover your flustered expression.

“I-I do think he’s…more attractive than an average man, yeah, but it’s doesn’t change anything.” you stammer in defense. "He's Molly's teacher, for goodness sake!" You huff under your breath, taking another, nervous sip of your coffee to divert your focus from the embarrassing topic.

Marlene lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head in playful disbelief. "Oh, come on now," she teases, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. She repositions herself to a seated position on the couch, to see you better.

You've known Marlene since you were diaper-wearing kiddos running around the playground, and she's been your rock throughout the years. No matter how tough times have been, she's always been there for you, even during your darkest days. When you got pregnant and after giving birth, she never gave up on you. You can't even count the number of times you've cried on her shoulder because life has been hard, and you've felt lost.

And moments like that reminded you of just how well she actually known you. Maybe even better than you’ve known yourself.

“ I don’t know…” you sigh, looking down at the floor to collect your thoughts. “I actually felt something, when he looked at me, but maybe it was just my imagination running, you know?” You chuckled as your hand squeezed the mug tighter. “He was just nice” you shrug. “He had to be nice, it’s his work.” You tried to convince yourself.

“But he's single, right? I mean, you're pretty as fuck and certainly not stupid, so you must have noticed that he's into you!" She raised her voice in frustration. "Why would he approach you if not because he finds you hot?”

“I don’t know if he’s single, Marlene, why would I care?” You frowned. “Besides, I’m not going to ask him that question, never.” You put the mug down on the shelf and then rubbed your face with your hands. “It’s just stupid crush.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, looking back at her.

“Ha! So it’s a crush, you said it yourself!” She pointed her finger towards your direction as a mischievous smile grew bigger on her face, causing her nose to wrinkle. “I just can’t understand the fact that you don’t want to to be dicked down by a hot teacher, I mean, you’re wasting your time, maybe someone could finally jump your bones so that y-“

"Alright, that's enough, Marlene," you replied firmly, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying your best to regain composure. “It’s just not easy for me, and you know that, I wish I couldn’t overthink every aspect of my life, it’s tiring.” You gulped.

She looked at you with a knowing expression, the kind that mixed pity and understanding. You knew that look all too well, and hated seeing it on her face. It made you feel vulnerable again.

"Please don't give me that look," you whispered under your breath, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"I’m just worried about you," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath your feet. "It's been nearly 7 years."

It’s been seven years since your last relationship. That night, when you told him about your pregnancy, should never happened. You should know better, but you were blinded by a manipulative fucker, who ran off the second he heard that you were carrying his baby. Since then it was hard for you to find someone who could understand your complicated situation, and you just stopped going to dates years ago.

You got used to the fact, that’s it was just you and Molly. And now that you had your life fixed up, why screw it all up by some dude?

"I don’t want to talk about it. " you backed away with to the hallway to grab your car keys “I have to be in Molly’s school in fifteen minutes.”

She rose from her seat on the couch and gracefully glided across the room to the corridor, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. As she approached, she leaned against the door frame and gazed at you quietly, her eyes searching your face.

“Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

You sat down to pull on your boots, your gaze drifting towards her. She was staring at you intently, her determination clearly etched on her face. Her unwavering, steely gaze held a familiar stubborn resolve. You’ve seen it countless times before.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it, but i can’t promise anything. " you finally relented, holding up your hands in defeat. Her eyes widened, and a squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she jumped up and down in front of you like an elated child. You couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

It won’t hurt to try, right?

Despite his natural talent for public speaking, which was crucial given his job working as a teacher, he found it difficult to concentrate his mind on anything today.

It wasn’t because he didn’t slept well, or his mood was worse than usual, it was because of you. You couldn’t leave his thoughts since he saw you for the first time in the hallway. That sweet smile adorned on your face when you spoked to your daughter, and the look you gave him, when you found his eyes for the first time. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The meeting was supposed to be chill, just some parents chatting about their kids, wanting to know their recent progress, just like every month. But things got way more complicated when you showed up. He must have been seriously sick to hallucinate the room lighting up when you walked in. Clearly, your mere presence was playing tricks on his overtired brain. He felt like a mad person.

“Mr. Lupin?” An irritated voice snatched him away from his mind. He quickly moved his gaze to the woman speaking to him. She was standing there with her arms tucked into her coat.

“Yes, what was the question again?” He raised the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I just asked about the school trip.” She huffed, clearly impatient.

Remus spoke, twirling a pencil in his hand to quell his anxiousness. "Right, yes. We plan on taking kids to the ranch next week, and the tickets are free, so we just need your permission for this one," he managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nerves. “There will be a list on my desk, you can sign up, or not, and that’ll be all for today. I think we managed to raise all the issues earlier.” He reached for a piece of paper from his briefcase and placed it on the desk. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t help but take a glance at you again.

You were chatting quietly with some parents in the back. He couldn’t help but feel being pulled back again to his trance. Maybe he shouldn’t thought about you that much? What if you already had someone else waiting for you at home? If not, he wanted so badly to know you better. You were pulling him towards like a fucking magnet.

After a while, when everyone began to gather around the desk to sign the list, you stayed behind, in no rush to join them. Finally when you stood up and made your way to the desk he felt his heart speeding up. Leaning over, you picked up a pen before quickly scribbling your signature next to Molly's name. You were closer than ever, and he could feel your perfume from such close distance. They were sweet. A hint of vanilla mixing with orange blossom and rose. The strands of your hair had escaped from behind your ears, cascading like a waterfall of silk down your face. They framed you, gently brushing against your skin as they fell.

He wanted you so bad it hurts his insides.

Remus watched you for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

As you straightened up, your gaze landed on his, and for a split second, you both locked eyes. There was a brief moment of connection, a fleeting glance that seemed to hold a thousands of unspoken words.

Your voice whispered through the empty space, the soft sound catching his ear and causing him to startle momentarily. "Molly said that they were painting pictures today," you murmured, your smile gentle as your gaze drifted out the window.

"Yeah..." Remus nodded casually as he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the chair. He pushed back his soft strands of hair with hand, when they’re got dangerously close to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a way to get them to calm down for a bit.” He chuckled, his eyes seeking yours. “But it turned out into pure, colourful chaos.” He pushed himself up, closing the distance between you to stand by your side. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans.

He wore them again, but today his sweater was sage green,and his wrist was adorned by a brown leather-watch on his wrist, and he even got boots to match.

He stole a glance through the window, his eyes falling upon you as you gazed at the scene. The empty playground outside was being caressed by soft wind, golden leaves carried away in a gentle dance around the area.

“It must’ve be-“

“Actually I-“

You both chuckled at the same time, gazes meeting and in an instant, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was that gleam in his eyes, that captivated you so much.

“Go on.” you said gently, encouraging him to continue. Your voice was soft and quiet, the words barely above a whisper. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a faint blush stained your cheeks.

He looked back at the window to collect his thoughts.

He chuckled softly, "I just never introduced myself properly, which is kind of rude, to be honest." You sensed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I’m Remus.”

He held out his hand, and as yours met his much bigger palm, that familiar tingling sensation shot through you again, just like when you bumped into each other in the hallway.

His hands were warm, but in that moment, they seemed almost scalding. Your own skin tingled under his touch, the heat from his fingers sending ripples of sensation radiating through you. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference between your own cool touch and the comforting warmth of his palm.

"Y/n." you replied gently, your voice was barely a whisper not wanting to break the spell of the moment as you held onto his hand, or maybe he held onto yours, you couldn’t tell.

Your name slipped from his tongue like a cloud on a rainy day, soft and soothing, yet with a gentle rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

A moment passed, and as he released your hand, and immediately a feelings of emptiness washed over you.

“Well, it’s nice to finally know your name, Remus.” You smiled when small blush appeared on his cheeks.

His name sounded different on your tongue as if it had been destined to be spoken by you. Each syllable rolled off your lips effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. He found himself hanging on every sound, relishing the sound of his name in your voice.

"So...," he began, pausing to clear his throat nervously. His voice dropped as he continued, "Are you free this Friday?" He looked down to observe your reaction, his lowered gaze catching the hint of amusement on your face.

just think about it, that’s all I ask.

When you shifted to face him directly, you were startled by the sheer height difference between the two of you. He seemed to loom over you, his tall stature making you feel practically tiny in comparison. You hadn't noticed just how much taller he was until that moment. You couldn't speak for a second, overwhelmed by a potent mix of shock and panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your body on edge as you struggled to find the right words. Time seemed to freeze, your thoughts a whirl of unease and surprise as you stood before him, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes," you managed to say, despite the mixture of surprise and anxiousness coursing through you. "I am free this Friday." A small, shaky breath escaped your lungs. The words came out softly, almost a whisper, but they were clear enough.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your answer, the tension in his frame releasing some of its tight coil. A small, anxious chuckle escaped him as he continued. "Great, because there's this small café in town, and they have the best coffee around. Only if you're up for it, of course," he added hastily, his nervousness betrayed by the slight waver in his voice.

“I would love to, Remus.” Your voice soft as you spoke, a shy smile playing on your lips.

God, you said his name again, he could die as a happy man now.

The school bell rang abruptly, causing you both to laugh in amusement at its timing. It seemed like the bell had a knack for knowing when to chime in, always breaking the moment between you with perfect timing.

And you couldn't have been more happier when, amidst the chaos of collecting his things and saying goodbyes, he asked for your number. You gave it to him with a fucking smile on your face, because you didn’t care. Seeing him today had reassured you that even if things won’t work out between the two of you, you'd still have your normal, happy life, so it wouldn't hurt too much. And plus, you really wanted to. He was cute even when he stammered for no reason.

It was official, you had a date with a hot teacher.

part three

a/n: I really love the idea that this two idiots are just so smitten with each other, that they can’t speak properly, but I promise, it won’t last for too long…hehe. Also, if you want me to tag you in my tag list, just dm me :)

another a/n: Just wanted to quickly announce that part 3 will be posted probably next Friday, because at the moment, im busy sunbathing on the wild beach and sipping on my drink. I hope you have a nice day too xoxo.

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason part 3 - Alexia putellas x pregnant!reader

Author note- hey guys here’s part 3! Hope you are enjoying the series! Please leave a comment with any feedback (positive or otherwise) it’s always helpful 🤍🤍

Warnings⚠️ swearing (that’s about it I think) it’s mostly angst

————

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/733631966220582912/everything-happens-for-a-reason-alexia-putellas

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/735082085825576960/everything-happens-for-a-reason-part-2-alexia

—————

The next day rolled around fairly quickly as you and Alessia had made a brief exit, claiming travel sickness to be the cause of your tearful exit from the room. As you woke up the next day you were met with the sound of a blaring alarm that read 6:30am.

Groaning you began to trudge out of bed, as Alessia did the same from the other bed.

“What are you doing?” Rung Alessia’s sleepy voice.

“Getting ready for training?” you said, puzzled.

“Oh are you sure you want to play, do you feel well?” questioned the striker

“yeah surprisingly I feel alright this morning” you smiled but you were soon cut off by a harsh ringing of your phone and were met with Alexia’s face plastered across your screen. You hesitated at first but then clicked the green button.

“Bon dia mi amor, I was starting to this you weren’t awake” came the a husky, Catalonian voice.

“Hey baby yeah I’m up sorry just misplaced my phone.” you assured her.

“How is camp are you feeling better now?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe you should just share your concerns with your wife, knowing that she could potentially offer clarity. However you ultimately decided against it as you had your mind set on attending the World Cup and playing as much as possible. Your mind wandered as you began working it out in your head, realising that by the end of the tournament, you’d be almost 3 months pregnant which would likely carry risks when you played.

“Princesa? Are you still there?” your wife questioned with worry.

“Lo siento Ale I’m here, I’m just so tired sorry my mind isn’t focusing.” you offered

“I understand bebita, I’ll call you back later vale?” the Spaniard inquired.

“Sí of course I’ll call you after training, te quiero mucho Alexia.” you voiced

“I love you too amor.” she replied blowing a kiss at the screen, which you returned before ending the call.

“You ok?” Asked Alessia with a pitiful smile.

“Yeah I’m good. Thank you Less I really mean it.” you replied

“always and we’ll get the test later to calm your mind down” she smiled

———

The morning had been relatively smooth, with minimal nausea and training with the girls had even distracted you completely for a number of hours- something that you welcomed with open arms. During the rondo is when it all started to take a turn for the worse. You felt yourself growing more easily tired than usual, struggling to catch your breath after a run down the wing, the sick feeling started to form.

You’d been stood in a small huddle half way through the drill when you felt the bile begin to rise in your throat and before you knew it you were making a run to the changing rooms and throwing up in the nearest bin. Alessia and Mary were close behind and you felt a hand rubbing up your back as you dry heaved into the bin.

“come on y/n we’re going to get the medicine” said Alessia

“what medicine?” you questioned, whilst attempting to regain your composure.

“You know what we talked about getting at lunch? To cure your illness” she said through gritted teeth as your mind finally caught up.

“Ohh ok yes sorry” you replied, eyes darting between her and Mary.

“What’s up with you?” Asked Mary, concerned.

“Just the flu we think” you answered, stoically.

“Should you be playing??” She urged

“Probably not but I didn’t want to worry anyone” you lied about your condition

“Y/N your health should come first always!” Mary insisted.

“Sorry Mar it will next time I promise” you offered, which seemed to be enough for you as she allowed you and Alessia to leave, whilst she told the team of your suspected flu- an answer they gave little question to.

———

The journey to the shop was brief. You slipped in with hoods up and made sure to use self checkout to minimise the risk of being spotted because what a scandal that would cause.

Once you returned to your shared room, the two of you made your way to the bathroom, carrying three different brands of pregnancy test in your bag.

“Do you want to do them all at once?” Alessia inquired.

“I mean I doubt I have the pee control to do it any other way” you replied, attempting to lighten the tense mood.

You sat down on the toilet and held the tests below you as Alessia turned to face the door. Once you’d taken them, you turned all three face down on the counter and the two of you sat on the stone floor of the bathroom with a 5 minute timer on Alessia’s phone. Your mind wandered to your wife in Spain as the guilt crept in about keeping this potentially life changing moment from her.

Before you could get too absorbed in your thoughts, the timer sounded signifying it was time to check the tests.

“you’ve got this.” Reassured the blonde with a small smile.

“3, 2, 1” you rehearsed before flipping the text.

First one: positive

Second one: positive

Third one: positive

“Oh shit” Alessia voiced.

“Oh shit indeed.”

“What are you gonna do? Shall I get your phone I can leave whilst you call alexia?” Said the striker.

“No. She can’t know.” You responded emotionlessly.

“What why not?” Alessia questioned, shock evident in her tone.

“She’ll stop me from playing Alessia. I have to play! By the time it’s noticeable the World Cup will be done and I’ll tell her then to cheer her up if neither of us win it or to add fuel to the celebration if one of us does. Oh my god what if she’s not happy?” your breathing picks up rapidly “she wanted the baby before but what if she’s changed her mind Alessia?” Your breathing was becoming frantic.

“Calm down y/n/n breathe just breathe” Alessia said putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t Alessia! What if she leaves me? I can’t raise a baby on my own!” You began to hyperventilate, reaching a state of full blown panic.

“Y/n you need to breathe ok, we can sort all that after, you don’t need to tell alexia today just calm down, breathe, think of the baby ok, breathe for the baby!” Alessia urged.

“Ok ok” you said steadying your breath, Alessia’s grip on your shoulders grounding you.

“You feeling calmer now?” questioned the blonde.

“Yes thank you Alessia it really means a lot” you smiled, hugging the younger girl.

——

The first game of the tournament came around fast. With it being Haiti, you weren’t too concerned as they hadn’t been an especially tough team in the past. You still hadn’t told Alexia about the pregnancy. Although Alessia had managed to convince you to see a doctor, luckily she wasn’t a football fan so had no idea who the two of you were, and much to your amusement she confused you as a couple which sent the two of you into fits of giggles, before correcting her. You and Alexia still kept in contact, she’d noticed something off with you but each time she’d brought it up, you shut her down with and blamed it on fatigue. She wasn’t stupid and didn’t buy a word of it but she also knew you’d tell her in your own time, whatever it was so she didn’t push.

When sarina announced you to be in the starting eleven you sighed heavily, realising that the game would be tougher than anticipated. What’s more, you were playing centre back. Normally, you played CDM or on occasion CM but with Leah out and Millie having picked up a light injury in training, England were short on reliable centre backs.

As the whistle sounded to signify the start of the match, you drew a sharp breath in anticipation of the difficulty these next 90 minutes would prevail.

—

Half time came around eventually. After a gruelling first half, you welcomed the break. You were leading 1-0 only thanks to a penalty from Georgia, which wasn’t overly comforting as Haiti were putting up a fair fight. You were forced to make some risky tackles, many of which ended up with you on the floor, body twisted at awkward angles. This did nothing to help Alessia’s growing anxiety for you. She’d become protective over you as she felt partially responsible, being the only one who knew about the pregnancy still. Every time you’d gone down with a challenge, she’d been by your side, checking you over (despite being practically on opposite ends of the pitch).

What you didn’t know was that Alexia was sat in a hotel room, watching every interaction and was beginning to grow suspicious of your new found closeness to the blonde striker. Lingering touches which to you and Alessia were nothing more than her checking on you and the baby, to Alexia were symbols of a growing affection between the two of you. Her jaw remained clenched at every interaction.

——

The game ended 1-0. A tight win but the three points were yours nonetheless. Your body ached all over. As you headed for the coach in a slumped motion due to the fatigue, you were stopped with a warm hand on your shoulder, one that belonged to Lucy Bronze.

“Hey Luce are you ok?” you sighed out.

“I’m alright Mrs putellas but are you?” She asked with concern. You cringed at the nickname she gave you before responding.

“Tough match that’s all, why do you ask?” you inquired with a furrowed brow.

“Alexia told me you weren’t yourself lately, asked me to check up on you. Oh and also I was quite concerned to hear that you didn’t tell her about your quite awful round of the flu the other week?” she questioned

“Oh erm must of slipped my mind?” You offered weakly.

“Yeah I’m sure, what’s really up Y/N?” Questioned the brunette.

“I-I can’t tell you” you stuttered, eyes damp with tears that threatened to fall at any moment.

“Why not, you know you can trust me with anything?” she said, face contorted with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

“I know Lucy and I love you for it but it’s personal I’m sorry.” you half smiled at her

“Yeah yeah I get that, you don’t have to tell me but you should really tell your wife.” She rebounded.

“No she can’t know!” You said on reflex, as though you were talking about it to Alessia.

“Know what? Y/N I’m worried now what’s going on?” Lucy pushed further.

“Y/N” called Alessia, jogging towards the two of you. “Are you coming?” She gestured to the bus.

“Yeah of course.” You smiled at the striker. Lucy however, didn’t miss the relaxation of your body at Alessia’s presence. Making a mental note to bring this up when Alexia called again.

——

Alexia’s POV

Y/N has been off with me for weeks. Ever since that day she left for the World Cup, she’s been so distant. At first I thought it was to do with us being rivals at the World Cup but now I fear there’s something more.

After watching her game against Haiti, I noticed her closeness with Russo, England’s young striker. My stomach twisted in discomfort as I watched them interact, Y/N responding to her touch in the way she’d normally only do for me. Jealousy rippled through me, could it be? Is this why she’s been off with me? Was my wife really cheating on me with her teammate?

Back to neural POV

Frantically, Alexia called Lucy for the second time this week. After a few rings she picked up.

“Hola Capi” sounded the English- twinged Spanish of Lucy bronze.

“Hola Lucia, well done on the game”

“Gracias Alexia? Not to be rude but why are you calling me?” She questioned

“Has Y/N been acting weird at all?” She asked simply

“Funny you say that she was being odd earlier. She seemed sad so I asked her what was up and I got minimal response but then I got her to crack a little. She told me there was something but she couldn’t tell me. Then Alessia came along and grabbed her to go to the bus. They spent the whole journey whispering about something so I’m not sure what to take from it?” Offered Lucy

“That little bitch” snapped alexia

“Woah what now?” Questioned Lucy at the harsh words Alexia had just produced

“I think she’s cheating on me Luce” replied alexia, both anger and sadness laced her voice.

“Oh wow Ale that’s a huge conculsion to jump to.” Stated the older woman.

“Well did you not see how much they touched eachother in that game. I was observing them the whole time Alessia was practically glued to her at every opportunity.” Snarled alexia.

“Now that you say it they’ve been spending a lot of time together but I wouldn’t make any rash decisions on the matter Alexia.” Offered Lucy.

“Thanks Lucy I’m gonna call her now.” Alexia stated harshly

——

After the team bus made its way back to the hotel in Sydney, you and Alessia wandered up to your rooms (next door to eachother as requested). You’d barely been back and hour before you received a FaceTime from your wife. Weird, you’d thought. It was a couple of hours earlier than you’d discussed but you brushed it off and answered anyways.

“Hola mi amor” you spoke down the phone.

“Fuck you” came your wife’s angry tone

“W-what? Mi Vida are you ok?” You asked with concern in your voice

“You’re cheating on me are you, with Russo?” She snarled

“WHAT?! No Alexia where did you get that from?” you were shocked at this revelation

“I saw the two of you in that game, every time you were tackled she was right beside you. She’s up front you’re a defender for fucks sake you’re miles away from each other!” She practically yelled down the phone.

“Alexia no it’s not like that at all, she’s just been looking out for me.” You reassured the Spaniard.

“Looking out for you? I know we’re not seeing eachother for a while but i didn’t realise you were pathetic enough to need another woman to satisfy you! It’s been 3 fucking weeks Y/N!” She roared

“You don’t understand Alexia I needed someone to talk to, to support me in person.” you were in tears now.

“SUPPORT YOU? What the fuck with? I call you everyday to check in and you won’t tell me anything so you’re whoring yourself out to the next person you can find!” She pushed further

“No Alexia! It’s not like that not at all please!” You begged

“Then what is it huh? What could you possibly need support with that I can’t give you right now?!” She boomed

“Alexia, I’m- I’m pregnant! The IVF worked its your baby, sorry you had to find out like this.” you burst into tears.

Alexia sat there in shock. You were pregnant, with her baby, how could she have been so stupid!

—————

[princessbrunette]

the reader being jealous like rafe 😩! that song “i’ll kill you” by summer walker and jhene aiko, she does not play about her man at allll

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

rafe simply trying to sell a baggie of coke to a girl who you deem looking at him too much, standing too close, smiling too often — you have no choice but to speak up.

“oh my gosh, can you back up a little bit? i’m right here you know.” you suddenly explode, half way through rafe talking her through the price list. he shouldn’t be talking her through anything. that’s reserved for you and you only, and right now you should be getting talked through an orgasm but instead you’re at this dumb ass party with rafe trying to make a quick buck.

the girl backs off pretty quickly, losing interest all together and floating away to another guy and you then and only then feel just a tad ashamed. rafe tongues at his cheek, turning his body to face you. you feel yourself shrink as he looms over you, irritated glare.

“you happy? threw your little fit n’cost me a customer.”

“she was never gonna buy, she— she just wanted you—”

“who cares, oh my god— who the fuck cares?” his eyes widen, whisper yelling at you to not cause a commotion. you feel your lip start to wobble and you take that as your queue to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, licking over his lips in frustration and backing you into a corner so he was covering you from the rest of the party. “hey. can you— babe, what is with you? am— am i giving you any reason to get jealous? huh?” he chases your gaze when you evade it, even bending at the knee a little to be more at your level.

“you weren’t tellin’ her to back off.” you whine, swinging your arms by your side childishly. he sighs, standing up straight and closing his eyes for a moment, rubbing at his forehead.

“alright, okay. can’t go… picking fights with random ass chicks that i’m tryna make money off though. take it up with me. after the deals done. or i’m gonna stop bringing you to these things. you— you can’t handle it.” he scolds and your eyes widen, shaking your head. if he was gonna sell, you’d rather be there to oversee it. “no? yeah, i didn’t think so. start actin’ right.”

you sigh, dejected and he takes pity on you after a minute of sulking, coming to your side and wrapping an arm around you. “i’ll only approach guys, if it makes you feel any better. yeah?”

“yeah.” you nod pathetically and he begins to walk you back towards the rest of the party.

“okay. the fuck were you gonna do to that girl anyway, huh?”

“kill her.” you seethe and he laughs, but it’s not mean spirited, infact you feel him tug you closer.

“you’re not gonna do shit, little psycho.”

you could tell him that the nickname was rich coming from him, but you’d decided you’d flaunted enough bad behaviour for the night.

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Twelve - Deep rooted nightmares

☆☆☆

You had been asleep no more than an hour at least. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, however. From the moment you had drifted off, you had begun to dream. The idea that you were dreaming while in the Dreaming was strange.

It started with a voice.

"Hello."

A voice you recognised. You had only heard it once, but that eas enough for it to be engraved into your memory. His sinister smile. Eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. You could see him now.

He was standing opposite you in this blank room.

"Well, this is a surprise. We're connected, you and I." He chuckles.

"How...? How are you in my dream?"

"Oh. Come on, now. I'm a Nightmare. Dreams are what I do."

You look around you only to find yourself alone with the Corianthian. He chuckles.

"He's not here to save you."

You feel the panic setting in.

"What do you want?" You ask.

"I want that tiny bit of power he gave you." The Corianthian grins as he slowly starts to walk towards you.

You shake your head. "No."

"Come on. Imagine what we could do together. Imagine what we could do if we took Dream out of the equation and used the Dreaming for our own purpose."

"No! I won't let you have it. I won't let you harm him."

"Who said anything about harming? We could lock him up for another century." He chuckles.

"No!"

You heard a loud rumble in the distance and felt your heart racing. Something was wrong in the Dreaming. You needed to wake up.

"Looks like I need to let you go, sleepyhead." He sighs. "Pity. You'll come around, though. They always do in the end."

You wake up in your bed with a sharp inhale. It was like you needed to catch your breath after holding it for so long. You feel the mattress underneath you and the soft pillow beneath your head.

You're awake.

You take a few deep breaths and then slowly sit up. You've only been asleep an hour. You climb out of bed and grab the dressing gown that hangs near by, before leaving your room and searching for Dream.

You needed to tell him about the Corianthian.

☆☆☆

Dream is in the library with Lucienne and Matthew. In front of Lucienne was a big blue book. She was researching for any possible cause of the sudden earthquake within the Dreaming.

They hadn't had much luck so far.

Lucienne was listing off possibilities, but Dream knew it couldn't be anything she was mentioning currently.

The sound of footsteps reach his ears, and Dream turns to see you entering. He looks confused by your presence. You had gone to bed not too long ago, so he didn't expect you to be up for a few hours.

"Everything alright?" He asks.

You come to a stop nearby and look at him. He can see the gears turning in your head as try and figure out what it is you wsnt to say. He is patient.

Before you speak, you notice the book Lucienne is looking at. "What's that?"

Lucienne looks at Dream for permission to tell you, but he speaks for her. "We are looking up a solution. There has been an earthquake here. Did you feel it? Is that why you're up?"

You looked at him with slight confusion and then nodded. "Uh, yes. I think so." You sigh softly. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Dream nods and excuses himself from the others. He resists reaching for your hand and follows you through the bookshelves. You stop once you're sure the other two can't hear.

"I had a dream." You told him.

"I suppose it's possible to still dream while here for mortals. You are the first to come here, so I don't have much experience to share."

"No, that's not what I mean." You sigh again. "I had a dream about the Corianthian," you whisper.

Dream goes still.

"I'm not sure how... but he's connected to me." You touch your wounded hand without realising it. Dream notices. "He talked to me."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted the portion of power you gave me. I told him no. That gift is mine." You speak softly.

Dream is still proud of the fact that you treasure his gift. It makes him happy. He feels it brings you both a little closer.

"Did he say anything else?"

"He said... we would make a good team... I think he wants your power for himself. He talked about banishing you or imprisoning you again. I won't do it. You're not a prisoner!"

Dream could see how heated you were getting, and he reached out. Both his hands settle on your shoulder gently, and you look up at him, already feeling calmer. "I'm okay," he assures you in his deep calming voice.

You nod softly. He is okay. He's here in front of you. You can see him, feel him, hear him.

"I know."

Dream looks at you for a few moments and then reluctantly let's go of you. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

"Right..."

"Did he say anything else?" Dream asks.

"No. I think that was it."

Dream nods. "Go rest. I shall check in with you later. I must speak to Lucienne."

You look a little worried. Dream reached out and tilted your head up gently. "I promise I'll be with you soon." You look into his eyes and see his sincerity. You nod.

Dream watches you walk away and then turns back around to return to Lucienne. She is waiting for him patiently.

"All well?" She asks.

Dream stands there with his head up and his hands together in front of him. "I think I know what the earthquake was."

☆☆☆

You lay on your bed all curled up. You dared not fall asleep again. The thought that the Corianthian was lingering inside your mind frightened you. Was he waiting for you to sleep again?

You rolled over onto your other side. You were frightened. The Corianthian wanted to harm Dream. You knew it.

Dream. Your protector. Your soulmate.

He really cared about you. You could feel how much he cared every time you were with him. He wanted something more with you, but you were still keeping distance. Perhaps it wasn't fair.

So the Dreamlord was perhaps falling in love with you? No problem, right? It's not every day someone has a special bond with an Endless.

You sigh and roll over again.

Could you let yourself love him? Maybe. Would it be so bad loving him forever? No. No, you don't think so. He's handsome, protective, caring, and gentle in his own way. Determined. He was definitely determined.

You smile.

A knock startles you out of your thoughts and you sit up. "Come in."

The door opens, and the man that has been occupying your thoughts enters. He closes the door behind him and approaches the bed slowly. There's something almost etheral about him.

"Hi," you say quietly.

"Hello." He smiles slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm too scared to go back to sleep if that's what you mean." You chuckle softly, but it was clear you weren't genuinely laughing.

Dream sits down on the bed. "You need rest."

"I don't want to see him again."

"You won't."

"How do you know?" You ask him softly.

He smiles. "I am the Sandman. Dreams are my domain. He won't be able to reach you if you let me help you sleep."

You look into those pretty blue eyes and see them sparkle like stars. He cares for you. He loves you.

"Okay."

Dream waits for you to lay back down and get comfortable. You look up at him and then slowly close your eyes. You expect to feel sand on your eyelids, but instead, you feel his lips press agaiant your forehead. You want to open your eyes, but his voice causes you to keep them close. "Keep them closed."

You lay still. A few moments of nothing happen and then you feel the sand. Before you know it, you're asleep.

Dream sits beside you, gazing down at your sleeping face. You look so peaceful. So beautiful.

His soulmate. The more he thinks about it, the better it sounds. He wants you to love him, but he will not force it. You're your own person, and he has no say in what you do. No matter how much he desires to make you his bride.

He sighs softly and raises from the bed. He needs to think.

Dream leaves you to sleep.

☆☆☆

Dream stands in his gallery and holds his sister's sigil. He has yet to call upon her, debating on if this was a wise idea or not. He never really called on his siblings much. However, right now, he needed some wise words, and Death always provided him with an answer in one way or another.

"Sister, I stand in my gallery, and I hold your sigil. Will you talk to me?"

A moment later, Death is standing on front of her portrait, leaning against the wall and looking at him. She smiles.

"Hello, Dream."

"Hello, sister."

A moment of silence passes between them. When Death realise her brother is not going to say anything, she prompts him.

"What did you call me for?"

Realising he needed to speak, he sighed and started to pace slowly. "My lost Nightmare, the Corianthian, has appeared in my soulmates' dreams. He wishes to cause me harm, I believe. I need you to make me a promise."

Death looks at her brother curiously. He's never asked her for anything before. She knows this is a serious matter.

"Go on."

He stops pacing. "If anything is to happen to me, will you look after her for me?" He looks her in the eye.

Death walks over to him and stands facing him. She takes his hands into hers and holds them tight.

"Nothing will happen to you, but I promise."

Dream is relieved.

"I thank you, sister."

She gives his hands another squeeze, and then lets go. She looks up at her brother and smiles. "I'm glad you came to me with this. But if anything was going to happen to you, do you not think Destiny would warn you?"

"We do not interfere in each others affairs," he reminds her.

"I don't think this counts."

Neither of them say another word. Death returns to her realm after waving goodbye and leaves Dream standing in his gallery alone.

Now, he must seek out the Corianthian.

☆☆☆

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