#just keep telling it. keep telling it. keep yourself going in the hopes the end will make sense.

[moondustbaby]

A Little Surprise

Blue Collar Husband!Rafe x Wife!Reader

Summary: You’ve been feeling off for weeks and find out you’re pregnant with your first child. It wasn’t planned, but with Rafe’s support, they’re both ready to take on this new chapter together.

⸻

It was supposed to be just another day. Another busy day at the middle school where you worked as a secretary. The days seemed to blur together lately; you were running on autopilot, completing tasks while trying to keep your energy up. The end of the school year was always the busiest, and you had been working late hours to help the teachers wrap up grading and paperwork. Your job was demanding, but it was fulfilling. But lately, the exhaustion was getting harder to ignore.

At first, you thought it was just stress. Being married to Rafe Cameron, the blue-collar guy who worked sunup to sundown at his construction company, meant your life was never slow-paced. And when it was, there was always something else—like taking care of your house, making sure dinner was on the table, and keeping track of the bills. But recently, something felt different. Something that you couldn’t shake.

Your stomach had been off for weeks, and it was starting to become more than just the usual fatigue that came with being a wife and working woman. Every now and then, you’d feel a wave of nausea, a dizziness that caught you off guard. The worst part was the exhaustion. You felt so tired all the time, no matter how much sleep you got. And there was the small thing you kept pushing aside—the fact that your period was late.

But you told yourself that it was probably just the stress from everything going on, the endless paperwork, the chaos of managing a school office. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready for something as big as a baby. Rafe and you had talked about it a little, but you always ended up pushing it out of your mind. The idea of becoming parents scared you both, even though the love between you two was unshakable. You didn’t know if you were ready for all the changes.

Still, the nausea wasn’t going away. You tried not to pay attention to it, swallowing down your discomfort with each passing day. But then one morning, you woke up feeling especially ill. You had been working late the night before, finishing up last-minute forms for the teachers, and had barely gotten any sleep. When you tried to get out of bed to make breakfast, the dizziness hit you so hard that you had to sit down for a moment, holding your head in your hands. You could barely keep your eyes open.

It wasn’t until you were sitting at your desk later that morning, staring blankly at the pile of papers in front of you, that you felt the familiar symptoms all over again: nausea, dizziness, a constant feeling of fatigue. This time, it wasn’t something you could push aside. You pulled out your phone and did a quick search on the symptoms you were feeling.

Early signs of pregnancy…

A list popped up that sounded too much like what you had been experiencing: nausea, missed period, fatigue, dizziness.

You stared at the screen for a moment, your heart beating faster. Could you be… pregnant?

It was too soon for you to know for sure, but you could feel a pit forming in your stomach. You weren’t prepared for this. Not yet. Rafe had been working so hard lately, and you both had been busy enough just managing life. But the thought that you could be pregnant sent a whirlwind of emotions through you.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming text from Rafe. “How’s your day going? Kids okay?”

You blinked at the text, trying to shake off the overwhelming thoughts flooding your brain. You typed back: “Tired. Kids are fine. Busy day at school. Hope you’re not working too hard.”

Rafe responded almost immediately: “You should try to rest tonight. I’ll be home early. You deserve it.”

You smiled softly at his message, but the words of the pregnancy search kept echoing in your mind. How were you supposed to tell him? Could you tell him? Were you ready?

You couldn’t ignore it any longer, so during lunch break, you ran to the store and grabbed a pregnancy test, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of being pregnant made your hands shake as you paced back and forth in the bathroom, the test in your hand.

You stared at it, your thoughts racing. You didn’t know how long you stood there before the result showed up, clear as day. You blinked at the two lines, feeling your heart drop. You were pregnant.

You blinked again, letting the information sink in. It felt surreal. Was this really happening? You suddenly felt a rush of emotions—panic, excitement, fear. You thought you’d have more time before taking this step, before becoming parents.

After a few minutes of standing in the bathroom trying to calm your racing heart, you decided to text Rafe. “I need to talk to you when you get home.”

His response came instantly: “Of course. What’s going on, baby?”

You chewed your lip, unsure how to respond. Should you just say it now? Or wait until he was home? You didn’t want to worry him too much, but you needed to tell him—he had to know.

When Rafe finally got home, you were sitting on the couch, your hands in your lap. He kicked off his boots and came over, sitting beside you, his brow furrowed. “You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I…” you started, hesitating for a moment. You couldn’t believe you were about to say it out loud, but the words spilled from your lips anyway. “Rafe… I think I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he processed what you’d just said. His eyes softened, and then a small, almost incredulous smile crept onto his lips.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice a mix of shock and excitement.

You nodded, feeling your heart race again. “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”

Rafe sat back, rubbing his hand over his face before he let out a low laugh. “Well, damn. Guess we’re in for a ride, huh?” He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly as he looked at you with a mixture of emotions.

“You’re not mad?” you asked softly, still nervous about his reaction. You didn’t know why you were, but you needed to hear him say it wasn’t a mistake. That you hadn’t messed everything up.

“No,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’m just… surprised. But I’m excited. I’ll admit, I didn’t think it’d happen so soon. But we’ve got this, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. Rafe had always been there for you, and he was here now, in the middle of this unexpected, crazy moment. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaky.

“I know you are, baby,” he said, his voice soft. “But we’ll do this. We’re in this together.”

You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you. Suddenly, the worry faded just a little bit. Maybe you weren’t ready, but you could do this—together.

And just like that, the fear and uncertainty began to melt away, replaced with a quiet, overwhelming sense of joy.

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a/n: this was sooo cute to write 🥹 i love them together, should i write more of them in their early years of marriage or some more with their first baby??

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

[parkers-gal]

I love your writing! May I request more mob!bucky, please?

this is kinda trash but it's a cute drabble, i hope u like it! :)

the work hug J.B.

summary: mob!bucky saves you from someone bothering you

warnings: brief harassment and mentions of unwanted sexual attention, bucky being protective, f!reader

wc: 1.3k

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you’d taken the job because of the sign on bonus. you’d heard through the grapevine of mutual friends of a job offering high pay and immediate compensation. when the money hit your account, you didn’t bother asking questions. 

maybe that was a mistake because now, you’re getting pressed up against the wall by a man nearly twice your age. he’s trapped you, and normally there are bodyguards all over the place but you can’t seem to find where they’ve all gone off to.

“please… leave me alone.” your voice comes out smaller than you wanted it to, but after repeatedly telling the man to stop harassing you, he only grew more determined to get what he was after. 

“c’mon, pretty girl. just give me a taste.” 

trying to squeeze past him, you drag yourself along the wall, but he comes with you. you’ve shifted to the right about 6 feet, a round piece of metal lodging itself into the small of your back before the wall gives out and you go tumbling backwards.

you had hit the doorknob of a door that was too easy to open. falling to the floor with a thud, you wince, leaning up on your hands only to be met with a room full of eyes all on you. your jaw drops, embarrassment flooding through you.

“what the fuck?”

you whip your head towards the end of the conference table where the voice came from. seated is a man with an arm of metal, glinting underneath a dress shirt rolled to his elbows. your boss. you scramble to get up, flustered and completely ashamed. the man with the metal arm makes his way towards you.

“what is going on?”

his voice is demanding and you try not to flinch.

“i’m- i’m sorry, sir. i swear i didn’t mean to barge in here, he was pushing me up against the door and i didn’t know where i was going an- and- and-” you’re on the verge of tears.

“get the fuck out.”

one slips down your cheek. then another. you’re trying not to sob.

as you’re about to comply, a hand reaches for your wrist. 

“rumlow. leave.”

opening your eyes in shock, you watch as the man leaves his spot from the doorway. with a nod from bucky, a guard follows him out.

“are you okay?” his voice is softer now and his eyes finally settle on you. 

he notes the tear streaks and wordlessly slips out of the room, leaving behind the men at his table.

“but sir, your meeting-”

he shushes you, pushing open the door to another room down the hallway. a mahogany desk sits comfortably in the middle of the room, bookshelves lining the walls. a set of matching armchairs are resting by the unlit fireplace.

“sit.” 

you comply, feeling the warmth from his body leave your back. he goes off to the side of the room, coming back with a glass of water.

you take a feeble sip, keeping your head down.

“are you okay?”

“i’m sorry.” “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” he kneels in front of you, fingers lifting your chin to look at him. “are you okay?”

you nod. “yeah. i just… i was looking for you or one of the bodyguard-men-guys. they’re always around and when couldn’t i find one i got really scared and started to panic and…” you ramble and bucky tsks, his hand dropping to your knee to rub soothing circles. 

“i’ll make sure to always have security for you.”

you look at him, his eyes holding something else in them. 

“you don’t have to.”

“i oughta kill him for laying a hand on you.”

your jaw drops. “you- what?”

“he knows better than to fuck around at my business.”

you don’t respond, dwelling on his words.

“you can take the rest of the day off.” he stands, twirling a silver ring around a finger on his right hand. “i’ll have steve take you home.”

“but, i-” 

bucky’s hand waves around, cutting you off, a light hum leaving his throat.

“but, sir-”

“what is it?” he turns back to you.

“i don’t… i don’t want to leave.” you admit, holding yourself with your arms and trying to make yourself smaller.

he frowns, bending down again to be eye level with you. “but i need to take care of rumlow, sweets. he needs to learn not to fuck around with me.”

this time, you frown too, staring at your knee in defeat. 

your voice is small again, already ashamed at the words that are about to leave your mouth. “i don’t want to be alone.”

he tsks again and you can tell he’s mentally debating what to do next. 

“can you give me fifteen minutes?”

“okay.” you try to smile but it’s not very convincing. “i’m sorry.”

“nothing to be sorry for.” he stands, softly rubbing your shoulder before making his way to the door. standing in the threshold, he beckons someone over but your chair faces away from the door so you don’t see who he interacts with. after some shuffling, a blonde-haired man hands you a blanket. you recognize him – steve – but you’ve yet to be introduced. 

he sits in the other arm chair opposite you, offering a delicate smile and grabbing a remote to light the fireplace.

“he won’t be long.”

you nod, unsure what else to say. you wrap yourself in the blanket and stare off into the flames, dancing away in the soot-covered hollow. you hadn’t realized how cold you were. 

the door behind you opens and you recognize bucky by the sound of his shoes. 

“thank you steve, you can go.” he dismisses him, grabbing a fluffy rag and taking the seat steve just had.

bucky’s knuckles are already bruising, and he’s wiping off the remnants of some blood.

“did you… hurt him?”

a spark of remorse flickers across his face but then he clicks his jaw and sits up a little straighter. 

“i had to.”

“because he bothered me?”

“yes.” he doesn’t snap, but he’s so confident in his response that it makes you wary to ask anything else.

“but you barely know me.”

at this, he shrugs. 

“i hired you, didn’t i?” he chuckles. 

“yeah but… still. i didn’t even meet you until today.”

he fiddles with his ring again. “alright then, sweets.” he carelessly puts the rag down on the table beside him. “why don’t i get to know you, then?” he muses at you, awaiting your response.

“oh.” 

a deep chuckle leaves his throat.

“since you don’t want to be alone.”

you sit there in shock, still silent. he picks up a book, opening to the page with the bookmark placed neatly inside.

without glancing up, he speaks again, teasingly. “or is that not what you want?” his eyes soften when he sees you nervously bite your lip.

“can i have a hug?”

his shoulders slump like you’ve melted him. he thinks you’re so adorably innocent. 

“i don’t know if i’m any good at those.”

you tilt your head at him, a smile forming. “you’re still human, even after becoming a mob boss.”

he smirks, “a mob boss, huh?”

your eyes widen, regret coursing through you. “i didn’t mean-!”

you stop speaking when he stands up, opening his arms and beckoning you to embrace him. slowly, you abandon the blanket and snake your arms around his waist, successfully nuzzling into the crook of his neck and exhaling. 

“i haven’t done this in a long time.”

“what? hug?” 

his chest rumbles in a gentle laugh. “yeah.” 

letting out a big breath, you squeeze his middle like you’re trying to pull him closer. “well i think you’re doing great.” 

bucky squeezes you back and as you inhale the scent of him, you realize he smells like something you want to call home. afraid of what you started, the fit of butterflies in your stomach erupts and after tonight, you know you’ve started something you can’t ignore. but maybe… bucky feels it too. 

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bucky masterlist

[no1blacksapphirefan]

Henlooo! I’m a new anon and this is a first time request of mine. I read your Self-Aware AU of the cookies being worried that the player was gone for a day or two— but what if its far longer than that? Like, due to storage or their device got broken/lost, if you want to touch something much darker than that then its up-to you! (I’m an angsty person today, I’m sorry TvT)

I asked cause: I’m soo up to date with information from CR:K but I genuinely can’t play it because of my storage. Last time I played was about 3-5 years ago— SO LONG I KNOW so the idea that they’re self-aware made me sad that I can’t play until I get a better device for the game 💔

And, if you do write this request, I will say thank you so much! I loovveee your Black Sapphire, Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk portrayals— I sometimes even read White Lily’s but I think of those once as a sibling thing, hehe. Anywho! I hope you’re doing amazing and I hope this isn’t a big ask TT

-🐆🍊(May I take these emojis?)

Course you can take those emojis :33

I'm glad you all like my work ^^ For me as I keep leaving and coming back to CRK (mainly cuz of storage as well) it is a bit entertaining. It's even funnier cuz the reason I joined again most recently was Black Sapphire and I was gonna delete the game again once I got him. But ended up staying, kinda funny to think about how the cookies would think if I did go through and delete after getting him.

Pure Vanilla Oh? Oh! Oh my witches you're back?? It's been- actually he doesn't want to think about it. He missed you so much, you've been gone for years. He knows you don't realise but seeing you again makes him so much happy. Perhaps you've changed your looks? Or you stayed the same about, doesn't matter to him. He thinks you look just as pretty as when he first met you...well when he first learnt he was in a game and saw who has been controlling everything.

Dark Cacao He acts as if he doesn't care, he does. And it's not that he isn't relieved to see that you're okay, he just...doesn't know how to express it. He wants to show you he's so happy to see you again. He just can't right now, but the other cookies can tell he's less tense than he was when you left all those time ago. You seem fine, and that's what matters (unless you joined back when sick/injured, then he's gonna worry a lot)

HollyBerry She's planned for this day!! Yet, when she finally sees you again after all this time, the plans she had in her head to make sure your welcome back was warm and filled with delight (yet still keeping it a secret she knows, she doesn't want to freak you out and delete the game again, she just got you back!) just go missing in her brain. Forgotten almost, it truly has been a long time, and despite all the planning. Just seeing you here and okay is enough to make her forget. (She'll remember when you log off for the day and quickly make her preparations before you log in again.

Clotted Cream He didn't notice at first, I mean. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something important happened but he brushed it off. That is until Financier cookie came in and informed him. Pausing for a bit he quickly put down his things to go see you, go back to the kingdom you've created and sure enough you were there. Humming to yourself as you figured out what new things have been added since you left. As if you haven't left. He is a tiny bit salty you seem care-free, but he knows you likely had your reasons, plus you wouldn't have known how much your disappearance affected him. Besides, he doesn't know the reason why you had to leave, so he doesn't hold it against you.

Lilac Cookie He stays calm upon your arrival, even when you log off. He keeps his feelings of joy and relief inside. Truly he's happy to see you again, it doesn't matter if you likely won't use him again because, as far as he recalls, he isn't exactly the best for most things in the game currently. He doesn't mind, you could dislike him for all he cares, but he still cares about you. And seeing you (hopefully) healthy and happy makes him more calmer then he was before, he won't admit it but your disappearance made him just a tiny bit uneasy, especially if he never heard you state your reasoning. He's willing to wait, even if you leave again and come back for double the time you left previously. He'll be waiting, patiently.

[prettydaisygirl]

can you do a part 2 about the bf james and peter story? maybe james ghosts her and she runs into remus one day, tells him what happened and he goes back and tells james

Just for you, love! This one turned out way longer than I thought it would, haha! Hope you enjoy <3

(ex)boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who finally talk about Peter ✿ 1.7k words

cw: fem reader, break up, Peter is the worst, Remus is the best, angst with a happy ending

james potter masterlist

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please read part 1 here

You hate breakups.

Not that you’re entirely sure that is what is going on, but you haven’t heard from James in three weeks. That has to mean you’re broken up, right?

The first week, you’d held out hope that James might call you. Even though deep down you knew, when he’d kissed your hair instead of your lips and Peter looked at you with that smirk… It was pointless to wait around, but you’d been hoping for an opportunity to explain yourself. To tell James that it’s Peter who was saying horrible things, not you. You were trying to defend him!

But the call never came.

So your days go by in a blur, aimless routines and rituals that keep your body occupied and alive while your brain and heart ache for him. Things aren’t the same without James’ bright smile and beautiful aura. Your home feels dull without the promise of his shoes by the door next to yours, or a goodnight kiss where neither of you really want to fall asleep. You miss him. 

The park is your only escape. The light on your skin and the breeze in your hair makes you feel lighter, even if it’s just for a moment. You let the excited dogs and giggling little kids make you happy. It’s enough to get you out of the house. Enough to keep you going. Enough to make sure your heart doesn’t fully shrivel up and die. 

It’s one of those days, the ones where you feel a bit lighter sitting at the park bench and letting your mind go, when you suddenly find that you aren’t alone.

“Hello.” You know that voice. The smooth, honeyed tone you know to belong to James’ friend, Remus. 

“Remus,” You greet him with a smile that doesn’t entirely reach your eyes, “How are you?”

“I’m alright, love. But I’m more interested in how you’re doing. You look…” Remus’ words trail off but you can think of a million different ways he could end that sentence: bad, tired, upset, broken, etc.

“I’m… alive.” You decide on, but the words sound empty even to you. Remus eyes you, clearly deep in thought. 

“It was Peter, wasn’t it?” He asks the question like he already knows the answer. His words surprise you, head turning and brow raising, especially when he continues. “Peter said something that made you upset.”

You nod, throat tightening as you remember that horrible dinner all those nights ago. Your fingers pick at the wood of the park bench, your shoulders sagging.

“Peter is horrible.” You say, and you don’t care if you sound cruel, “From the moment I met him, I knew he was horrid. I know he’s your friend but you all let him say the most disgusting things about people. About each other!”

“What did he say?” Remus asks, and when you turn with your mouth open ready to argue, ready for Remus to defend his friend, he doesn’t. His face is only open, understanding.

You wring your hands in your lap and purse your lips as you think about what you want to say. Remus sits in patient silence, giving you time without complaint.

“He asked me if I think James is obnoxious.” You start, and Remus’ brows raise just an inch on his forehead. But he doesn’t speak. “He told me that… James would be getting bored of me. That someone new would catch his eye and everything we had would just…” You look around the park, eyes scanning everything without really seeing. You just will yourself not to cry. 

“I mean, I guess he was right? James and I haven’t talked in three weeks, he won’t even respond to my texts.”

Remus nods slowly, and your heart sinks a bit more. Maybe Remus agrees with Peter. Maybe he is just here to destroy your last bit of hope and put the final nail in the coffin.

“Peter and James have been friends since before I ever met either of them.” Remus says, finally, his voice cutting through the rest of the peaceful park sounds. “Peter has always been… for lack of a better term, a small man. James is larger than life, and Peter has always been jealous of him, even when we were young.”

“As boys, Peter would scare off anyone who wanted to be friends with James. It was only through Sirius’ stubbornness that he managed to break through them and become a part of the group. And Peter only allowed it if he was there too. I came along a bit later.”

“But even in our group of four, it was obvious that James is Peter’s best friend. He would get… antsy if we ever spent time together without him. It’s gotten better now as we’ve gotten older but it seems as though Peter has shifted his attention.” 

“What are you saying?” Your voice cuts through Remus’, eyes wide and your body turned almost fully toward him at this point.

“I’m saying you aren’t the first girlfriend of James’ that Peter has gotten rid of.” Remus runs a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, face turning serious. “I should’ve known he was going to do this.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while, a mutual anger bubbling in the air around you both.

“Has he said anything?” You ask finally, your voice weaker than you’d like it to be. “James, I mean.”

“Oh, he’s devastated.” Remus’ voice is thick with emotion and his face morphs into obvious frustration, “The man is so in love with you.”

“Then why-” It’s like Remus can read your mind, he answers before you can even get the words out of your mouth.

“James loves Peter like a brother. Peter has been by James’ side since before the two of them were in diapers. I think… I think James doesn’t want to see what Peter is doing. He wants Peter to be good but…” Remus’ voice trails off again and you find your stomach churning.

“I love James.” You say, and you’ve never said anything truer in your life. “I just want him to be happy.”

“You both deserve to be happy. I’ll talk to him.” Remus says, and he continues to speak before you can open your mouth to argue, “I mean it. Then, if he doesn’t want to be with you, we’ll know. But he does. And you both deserve to be happy together.”

“Thank you, Remus.” You say, and you hate the way hope creeps back into your soul.

But four days pass after your conversation with Remus, and you still don’t hear from James.

It’s been devastating, almost worse this time, like breaking up all over again. You really tried not to get your hopes up when you spoke with Remus, but you can’t help it. All you want is James back.

You’re in an old t-shirt and putting a frozen meal in the oven when there’s a knock at the door. You groan, moving through the living room to the front door and you open it. 

Your heart stops when you see James’ face. He looks… dull. Not that bright, bubbly ray of human sunshine he always is.

“Jamie.” His name leaves your lips as a breath of relief and also a cry of pain.

“I’m sorry,” He says, and his voice is just as strained and pained as your own. “Remus told me about what you said. About what Peter said…”

You lean against the front door a bit, letting it hold some of your weight since you don’t trust yourself to stand fully on your own at the moment. You watch James, heart pounding in your chest. You’re sure it’s loud enough that he can hear it too. 

“I tried to tell you, but you all just left.” You say, and your eyes burn as the emotions resurface. “And you never called. I just wanted to explain…”

“I know.” James’ eyes squeeze shut and you feel your heart squeeze too. “I know, I’m sorry. I thought Peter was my friend…”

“Friends don’t talk about each other like that.” You step out onto the porch, standing in front of James. You miss being close to him, even just like this.

“No. They don’t.” James agrees, and you find yourself wanting to reach out and touch him. He seems to read your mind, placing a hand on the side of your neck and placing his forehead on yours. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You say, your voice cracking at the end. “I don’t want to break up.”

“I don’t either.” James agrees softly and it’s like you can feel the broken parts of yourself start to let him put you back together. 

“What about Peter?” You ask, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. You’re worried this is too good to be true. 

“I’m done with Peter.” James shakes his head, his curls swinging in front of his forehead as he moves with vigor, “I confronted him about what happened after I talked with Remus. And he admitted everything! He bragged about it, he said he thought he was helping me out because he thinks you aren’t good enough for me.” James rolls his eyes, but you can still see the emotional turmoil he must be going through.

You pull him close, your two bodies fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle, reuniting after weeks apart. 

“I’m sorry.” You say. “I know you love him.”

“I love you.” James says, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m sorry I believed Peter.”

“I’m sorry he wasn’t a good friend to you, Jamie.” Your voice is muffled as you bury your face in his neck. His scent is comforting, soothing the ache of weeks without him. You squeeze him a bit tighter.

And this time, you’re not letting go.

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© prettydaisygirl

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The New Regular

Dr. John Carter x Reader

Words: 1868

Summary: The bartender of the hospital staff’s go to place meets a new, and desperately in need of a drink, doctor. 

Notes: Funnily enough, the first person I started writing for for ER is Doug Ross (which I will finish and post at some point, because God I love George Clooney) But I thought this short and sweet one would be a nice refresher for all of you getting into the show after the traumatising experience of The Pitt. Enjoy! 

-

It tended to be pretty quiet this time of night. The only ones left were night-shifters and drunks from earlier who hadn’t figured out a way home yet. You didn’t mind, though. This was your favorite part of the night, when everything started dying down and the music got slow. It was an old Billy Joel when he walked in, still in his scrub shirt and hair sticking up at every angle. 

You finished cleaning the glass in your hand and set it aside, watching the clearly newish doctor stumble his way up to the bar with the exhaustion of a just-ended shift weighing his shoulders down. 

“You look awful,” you said, giving him a small smile. “What can I get you?” 

“Something strong,” he muttered without looking up. His eyes are glued to the bar in front of him, and it isn’t hard to see that it’s been a rough day. 

It’s a look you’ve come to understand well, being the closest bar to County General. Whenever a doctor has had a long, hard shift, you could usually find them sitting across from you, hoping for something to ease the stress away. This guy was different, though. You could tell he was new because he still had this look to him, like he was exhausted but still ready to go right back in if they asked him to. 

Plus, you didn’t know any cynical old doctors who were this cute. 

You slid the drink you titled ‘Medicine’ across the bar towards him. You poured yourself one too for the hell of it. “Physician heal thyself.” 

The cute doctor laughed humorlessly and picked up the glass, but didn’t drink. 

“That bad, huh?” You sipped on yours, leaning on your elbows against the bar.

He snorted. “How much time do you have?”

Scanning the room, you found the one person who’d still been ordering. “Bertie, I’m cutting you off!” You shouted at the older man.

“What? I’m not even half-” He started to protest, but fell face first onto the wooden surface. 

The young doctor stood up, but you put a hand on his arm. 

“He’s fine.”

Sure enough, a great snore echoed through the quiet space. 

He sat back down. “Do you get a lot of hospital workers in here this time of night?” He asked. 

“Sometimes. Depends on how bad the shift is. Most of the time, it’s patients coming through. As if they still have the money to spend after visiting you guys.” You took another drink and let the burn coat your tongue. 

Finally, he did the same, though he made a bit of a face when he tasted it. “Jesus, what is in that?”

“You said you wanted something strong,” you snickered. God, he really was cute.

He drank some more, visibly trying to keep his reaction to a minimum, and set the glass back down. 

“I’m John, by the way,” he said. “Not that you, um, asked.”

“Y/N.” Pulling up the stool you kept behind the bar, you sat across from him. “So, are you going to tell me what’s got you coming to this joint, John or would you prefer to brood in silence like some of the other doctors?” 

You’d been trying to get Doug Ross to open up to you for years to no avail. The man was more closed off than the toughest safe, using his charm and flirting to cover up his deeper issues. He liked to tell you that you didn’t need that psych degree you were studying for; it seemed you were already practicing just fine.

“I lost a patient,” John answered, his voice going quiet. 

“Your first?” You asked gently. 

He shook his head. John ran a hand down his face and downed the rest of his drink. The mix of emotion and liquor turned his eyes glossy. 

“Doesn’t make it easier, though, does it?” He said. His hand went over his face again, then again through his messy brown hair. “I mean, it feels like for every person we help, there’s another going to the morgue. It just makes you wonder what the point is, you know? Like, why am I even trying? Why are any of us?” 

You leaned down so you could look him in the eye, his face still trained down at the bar. “It sounds like you could use another, doctor.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours. A faint smile teased his lips. “Maybe just a beer this time.” 

“You got it.” You opened up a bottle and set it in front of him. Sitting across the bar felt too unnatural, so you abandoned your chair and walked around to the barstool next to him. “So tell me about yourself, John.”

“Hm?” His gaze still had that distant, faded look to it. 

“You said you weren’t sure why you were there. You didn’t see the point,” you said. “Well, tell me why you started, and maybe that will help you see.” 

“Oh, I, um, I don’t-”

“What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think about wanting to be a doctor?” 

“How much my family hates it,” he blurted. He laughed, surprised at himself. 

“A rebel then?” You teased, nudging his shoulder. It was just nice to see him come back to himself a bit. 

He shook his head. “That’s not it, though. Or, at least, not the only reason.” A new kind of distance takes over his features. One that inspired a bit of awe. “I want to help people.” 

There’s a pull in your chest, one that you have to push down to keep yourself from leaning over and just smacking a kiss to those pretty, pouting lips. 

“How very noble,” you teased instead. 

He snorted. “Watch me get vomited on a couple of times, then you won’t think so.” 

“A humble doctor.” You raised a brow. “That’s got to be a new one for me.” 

“Not just that,” he grimaced, which broke into a smile. “I’m studying to be a surgeon.”

You leaned forward and ran your fingers through the front of his hair, making a point to narrow your eyes and huff. 

“What are you doing?” He laughed, but leaned into your touch. 

“I’m looking for a horn,” you said. “You’ve got to be a unicorn or something.” 

John pulled away and shook out the poof you’d left in his hair. He didn’t even look like the same person who sat down, the beaming smile on his face lighting up every corner of the room. 

The next time he came in was better. He’d saved someone that day-a little boy who’d drowned. It was a close call, but he was going to be okay. Just listening to him go on and on, it wasn’t hard to see that John Carter was exactly where he was meant to be. 

The next time he was down again, but you were able to get at least one smile that night. 

Every week, he came in. Sometimes he didn’t even get a drink, but he’d still leave you a tip at the end of the night. You told him he didn’t have to, but he never listened. One night in particular, when the bar was absolutely slammed, you didn’t get to talk to him as much, but he stayed anyway. 

“I think you’ve got yourself a shadow,” Megan, your fellow bartender that night, smirked at you. “Either that or he can be your first patient when you become a real shrink.” 

“God, I hope not,” you sighed, overly dramatic. She looked at you with a quirked brow and questioning look. A grin spread across your face. “Then I couldn’t ask him out.” 

She gave you another look that said ‘Fair enough’ and hustled off to help her next customer. 

John stayed until the crowd died down despite how exhausted his own shift had made him. There was something about being around you, every time you smiled or took a second to come talk to him that just made him feel awake. As other patrons filtered in and out and in and out again, he stayed. 

He swirled his club soda around his glass and watched you wipe down the last of the tables. John wasn’t sure how long he’d been coming to the bar. A couple weeks at least. He’d kicked himself more than once for leaving without asking you out. He always ended the night by laying his cash on the bar and telling you goodnight, looking back through the gaps in the neon sign to see if you were watching him leave. 

“So, Dr. Carter, is tonight the night?” You asked, leaning over the bar with a smirk. 

His eyes went wide and his cheeks turned red. Could you read minds? Were you that good at your psych degree?

“W-what?” 

“Are you finally going to let me make you another surprise drink?” You asked, as if there was no other possible meaning to your words. 

“Oh, um…” His cheeks only continued to redden. Sometimes he could still taste the, um, strong, concoction you first made him and the idea of having anything like it gave him a pre-drinking hangover already. 

You laughed, loving the way his face changed colors when you got him flustered. Might as well keep going. 

“I’m just kidding,” you said. “I want to know if you’re finally going to ask me out or if I’m going to have to do it myself, Dr. Carter.” 

If you thought his face was red before…

“I-um-I was just waited-oh, uh, I-” He couldn't remember the last time he was this much at a loss for words. “That would be-” John forced himself to swallow and take a breath so he could attempt to stop looking like a total idiot. “Do you want to get drinks sometime?” 

You glanced around you at the various bottles and liquor you were surrounded by every day. 

“Maybe dinner?” You suggested. 

“Right. Yes. Dinner. Of course. Dinner.” He ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up again. You waited. He stared. You waited some more, smile creeping wider and wider across your face while you waited for him to get it. “Oh. Yes. Do you want to get dinner? With me? Tomorrow night?”

You leaned across the bar and kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.” 

That grin of his lit up and it felt like the whole dark bar brightened with it. 

“Great! I can, uh, I can pick you up at 8? There’s a place close to mine, it’s not the fanciest, but it has some really good chicken parm and-”

“You’ve already sold me on it, doctor. Leave some to be a surprise,” you teased. You flashed him one last wink and started back towards Megan at the other end of the bar to finish closing up for the night. 

She glanced at you over her shoulder and you caught a knowing look in her eyes. “I take it we’re going to be seeing even more of him then?”

You wiped down a spot you’d already cleaned and watched the young, handsome doctor watching you. 

“Yeah,” you said, blush tinging your smile. “I hope so.” 

[macabrebatz]

SOMETHING THERE (Caged Warcraft Orc/Reader)

Summary: Orcs have invaded your world and you're tasked with taking care of a very angry, very injured imprisoned orc. But he's not the only one that's going to be taken care of.

Author’s Note: Hello, lovelies! A little while ago I got sent an ask here about the captured orc in the movie Warcraft (you can read the post here). I love the concept so much that I just had to write about him. He's unnamed in the movie so I just refer to him as an orc throughout this. This can be read as a generic orc x human story but just know this was written specifically with this big drooling guy in mind. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, fem! reader, orc x human, canon divergent, smut with some plot, teratophillia/monsterfucking, injured character, conversation about mates, teasing, size difference (this orc is bigger than you no matter your size), let's pretend that Warcraft orcs would actually fit for a moment, fingering, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, some degradation, possessiveness, he's mean I don't know what else to tell you, choking, hair pulling, semi public sex (?), Lothar makes an appearance, no aftercare, NOT beta read

Word count: 4.7k

Your job had been straightforward for the most part. You were a handmaiden often tasked with cleaning and maintaining the kingdom's dungeons. There had never been many prisoners kept in the lower parts of the castle, not while you had been of service there at least. Most of the time the cells were empty and you were often tasked with taking care of other parts of the castle instead, places frequently overlooked by the other maids.

But all of a sudden you found yourself busier than usual when a handful of knights dragged in a nearly dead creature of the likes you had never seen before. It took multiple men to pull him down the steps of the dungeons and into a barred cell.

Lothar, a man you had become friends with, followed behind his fellow knights, watching as they hovered around the prisoner.

“What exactly is he?” you asked quietly.

You had met all types of denizens of Azeroth. Elves, dwarves, worgen….but never anyone like the large, tusked man that laid before you.

Lothar shrugged, not knowing the answer to the question.

“If I knew I would tell you. They just…showed up. I don’t know where they came from. Or how many there are. We took the other one to the king for questioning. She’s tiny compared to the rest of them,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the floor, staring at the smeared trail of blood leading from the stairs to the cell.

“He’s wounded?” you questioned, looking back at the cell.

“Yes, he was going to attack the other one we captured. Can you keep him alive?” Lothar asked.

You nodded. You had cared for injured and sick prisoners before. Some of them probably wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for you.

“I’ll need supplies though.”

“I’ll get you everything you need. Just be careful and try to keep your distance as much as possible. He doesn’t seem to be the friendliest,” he said.

Lothar left you with the other knights, disappearing up the stairs. After a few minutes, he returned with a box of supplies, far more than enough to heal any wounds. He ushered the other knights out and wished you luck as he sauntered away.

You had unlocked the cell and spent a considerable amount of time trying to remove the rugged bone armor and leather from the sleeping creature's chest. You then began cleaning and stitching the stab wound, silently cursing Lothar for creating such a nasty wound to begin with. Never once did the being move or wake. His breathing was weak and a part of you thought he might die right then and there from the amount of blood he had lost.

But his chest continued to rise and fall as you snipped the end of the stitches with your shears. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you sat there for a moment, watching the sleeping creature.

He was large, bigger than any human you had ever seen. He had long greying hair and an untamed beard. Although his eyes were closed you could tell that one had been previously injured, the skin around it scarred and almost red. On the opposite side of his face, a deep scar ran from his lip up the side of his face. There were pieces of metal embedded in the skin where the wound had been closed and healed over the metal.

There was a part of you, deep inside your mind that found the rugged stranger quite attractive. But you ignored that part of your mind, pushing those thoughts aside. You knew nothing about the being that laid before you and you weren’t going to let curiosity get the better of you.

You wrapped a bandage around his shoulder and chest, something that proved to be quite difficult with how large he was. But you managed to do it regardless, securing the bandage so it wouldn’t move.

You stood up and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind you.

There was still blood all over the floor and you quickly turned your attention to that, scrubbing the floors by hand, something you had done time and time again.

About an hour passed and as you found yourself on your knees, scrubbing the last bit of blood off the floor you heard shuffling. You glanced over your shoulder to see the creature waking up, slowly sitting up, reaching for his chest and grimacing in pain.

He shook his head and looked around, growling as he slowly became more conscious. His head turned, stopping when his eyes laid on you. For a moment neither of you moved, staring at each other, but then the creature lurched forward toward the bars and let out a roar. You jumped back in surprise, almost knocking over the bucket of water sitting beside you.

The roar ceased as he grabbed his chest once again, falling onto his knees in pain. Your fear was quickly replaced with worry, standing up quickly and walking closer to the cell.

“You can’t do that. You’ll make the wound open back up,” you said.

He snarled and said something in a language you had never heard before. He sat back against the wall, glaring at you.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you said.

He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, grumbling and holding his chest.

And that’s how almost every day had gone for weeks. He would over-exert himself out of anger, trying to break through the bars of his cell. You would scold him, telling him he needed to rest, which he would ignore. He would yell at you in his native tongue and you would ignore him, setting down food and water in front of the bars, just enough for him to reach the plate but not you.

Some days the yelling and banging on the bars would get so loud that the knights that stood guard at the entrance of the dungeon came rushing in, scared for your safety. You would shoo them away, assuring the worried knights that you were fine. They were honestly happy to leave, not wanting to be so close to the creature behind the bars.

Not all days were like that though. Sometimes he was quiet, too tired to do his usual routine of raging. On those days you would talk to him while you cleaned or while he sat and ate, filling the void of silence with your voice.

You would just talk about things on your mind, gossip from the other handmaidens, stories you had heard from the knights that would try to flirt with you and impress you with their war stories. The table and chair that had been set out for you slowly inched closer every day as you sat and talked to him during lunch.

You rarely ever had anyone to talk to throughout the day. Sometimes one of the knights would join you for lunch or Lothar would talk with you as you cleaned when he wasn’t busy, but it was a rare occasion. So now you found yourself droning on to the prisoner during your time spent cleaning and your breaks. He didn’t seem to mind but you honestly couldn’t tell. His face often had some form of a grimace on it, a snarl always daring to creep up.

You weren’t sure if he could understand you either until one day, while the two of you ate, you finally asked him a question that had been on your mind.

“What exactly are you? Lothar hasn’t answered the question yet. You’re not human…not an elf. Your teeth are kind of like a troll’s teeth. A bit smaller than theirs though,” you rambled.

You didn’t expect him to say anything. On days like this, he never said anything. After a moment, he broke the silence with one word.

“Orc.”

You looked up from where you sat, glancing through the bars of the cell. He was looking back at you, his working eye staring at you.

“An orc? That’s what you are?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“So you’ve been able to understand me this entire time?”

“Yes.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day.

A couple more weeks passed and the caged orc had seemingly calmed down. He no longer yelled and raged on, often sitting in silence.

But sometimes he would speak, occasionally answering questions you had about orcs and his culture. He was often cold, even mean when it came to replying, but you simply shook it off.

You asked him about his cloudy eye and the large scar running up his face. That seemed to perk him up. For the first time in almost a month, his cold demeanor dropped. He told you about the fights he won, boasting about how many times he had come close to death. It was the first time he had ever been talkative. Usually, he would give short responses to your questions but now he was painting vivid pictures for you as he told a story for every scar.

“And this,” he brought his hand up to the healing stab wound on his chest, “is nothing. A scratch.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You laugh, but it’s true. Your tiny knights couldn’t kill me if they tried,” he said.

“Lothar came pretty close,” you chuckled.

He frowned, a growl escaping his lips as he stood up and slowly walked towards you. You sat just out of reach from him, you had moved your table even closer to the cell over the past few days. Despite his gruff attitude he had begun to grow on you. You enjoyed talking to him and maybe even staring at him a little.

You took a sip from your water as he stepped closer, gripping his hand around one of the metal bars.

“You talk about that one a lot. Is he your mate?” he questioned, his voice low.

The question took you by surprise, causing you to choke on your water.

“No…no. He’s not. We’re not…no,” you said in between coughs.

The orc hummed, sounding almost amused by your answer and frantic coughing.

“No? One of the other knights then? Or one of those handmaidens you’re always talking about?” the orc asked.

You shook your head as you sat your glass down.

“I don’t have a…mate.” The word felt foreign to your lips. You could feel your face heat up as you frowned, averting your eyes from the orc.

There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, the sound of his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure you’ll find a puny little knight one of these days. Although I doubt they could keep you satisfied,” he said.

Your jaw dropped a bit, shocked by the sudden forwardness of the orc.

“I think I’ll be satisfied,” you said, scoffing.

“I highly doubt it. The men of your species seem…inadequate,” he said, sitting back down.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. Why was he talking about this? What was he getting at?

You shook your head, deciding to change the subject.

“How is your wound?” you asked.

“I told you. It’s just a scratch,” he mumbled.

“You were stabbed with a sword. You’re lucky you’re even alive,” you sighed.

He scoffed, sounding offended that you would even suggest that he could’ve died.

“May I please check it? To make sure it’s not infected?” you asked.

“I guess,” he grumbled.

You stood up, walking closer to the cell. You swore you could hear Lothar in your mind scolding you for doing exactly what he said not to do. But you couldn’t exactly keep your distance if you wanted to do your job properly.

The orc leaned towards the metal bars as your hands snaked through, untucking the bandages and slowly pulling them off of his chest. The orc grimaced at the sensation, traces of dried blood had caused the bandages to stick to his skin. You hadn’t had the opportunity to clean it. It was the first time since he had first arrived that you felt comfortable enough to get close enough to examine him.

“It looks…fine. It could use a little cleaning though. Wish I had a healing potion to give you but I don’t know any alchemists,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t need any of that,” he grumbled, looking down at you.

“At least let me clean it. Surely dying from infection isn’t the way you want to go,” you joked.

“Fine,” he chuckled.

You smiled. It was odd hearing the orc laugh but you found it slightly endearing.

You turned, grabbing your supplies from the table and turning back around to the orc. You hummed to yourself as you cleaned his skin with a washcloth, wiping away all of the traces of dried blood.

“No mate,” the orc said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You have no mate,” he said.

Really, this subject again?

“Yes, I thought we established this?” you asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why are you so interested in this subject?” you mumbled.

“You ask stupid questions all the time. Why can I not ask you a question?” he said.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, focusing your attention back on his wound.

“I don’t know. Just haven’t found the right person. Why do you care anyway? It’s not like we could be mates,” you huffed.

“And why is that?”

He was looking down at you. You felt your face heat up a bit as you averted your gaze.

“You’re too…mean. And grumpy. And I’m ninety percent sure you were going to try to kill me for the first few weeks you were here,” you said.

You turned away from him, grabbing a new roll of gauze.

“I’m not trying to kill you now,” he said.

You unrolled the gauze and started wrapping it around his chest.

“Yeah…I know. Can we please drop this subject? It’s not like I would be your type anyway.”

“Type?” he questioned, not understanding the phrase.

“Your type. It’s what you’re attracted to. Now shush and let me finish,” you said.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. All of a sudden it was becoming very hard to think clearly. Something about being so close to the orc while he was watching your every movement was managing to make your head foggy. Sure, you found him attractive. Something about his ruggedness and size was alluring. But you never expected him to make your knees weak. And he hadn’t even done anything to you.

You did your best to ignore whatever feelings were brewing inside of you as you finished bandaging his chest.

“There,” you said, “all better.”

“Thank you,” the orc grumbled.

The rest of the day came and went quietly, all without a word about the previous conversation. You found yourself staring at him. Your stomach felt fluttery and it was becoming more and more difficult to suppress what you had felt all along.

When you went to bed that night you couldn’t help but repeat the conversation in your head, completely puzzled by the orcs’ fascination with the fact that you were ‘unmated’.

Such an odd thing to be hung up on.

What was worse was that your own fascination with the orc seemed to be getting stronger.

So much so that you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned all night, your mind racing just at the thought of the imprisoned orc.

So much so that when you finally did fall asleep, you dreamed about him. You were being held by him in your dream, the same way you had hoped to one day be held by a knight or maybe even a skillful mage. But for some odd reason, the thought of being held by the orc brought you more comfort than every silly knight fantasy you ever had.

So much so that the next day you found yourself scooting your table and chair closer to his cell. Something you had already done but now you were repeating the process every day for a week, slowly inching it closer and closer.

So much so that you started to purposely loosen the laces at the top of your dress. At this point, you weren’t sure what was overtaking your mind. You found yourself wanting to tease him, something you never thought you’d do.

So much so that you had been lingering in the dungeon well past the curfew given to the maids. You wanted to be in his presence. To say he was growing on you was an understatement.

So much so that about a week later when you bent down to pick up his plate, something you had done every day since he arrived, you didn’t walk away from the cell.

This time the orc gripped you by your hair, yanking you back hard against the bars of the cell. You yelped as the plate dropped to the floor. He let go of your hair and his hand snaked through the bars, wrapping it around your throat. His other hand rested on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Are you done teasing?” he asked as his grip tightened around your throat.

“Teasing?” you squeaked.

“Do you really think I’m clueless? Every day you get closer and closer to this cage. You’ve been staying in here late at night. And your breasts have practically been falling out of your dress. It’s almost like you’re begging me to rip it off you,” he growled.

He was absolutely right. You had been caught red-handed.

“Are you going to explain yourself, human?”

He had you pressed against him so tightly that it was almost hard to breathe. You could feel something hardening against your backside and that fluttery feeling started building in your stomach.

“I just…”

“You just what?” he said.

“I just want you to touch me,” you said just above a whisper.

“Say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew there was a smirk plastered across it.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me,” you repeated.

“Just a few days ago I was ‘too mean’ for you but now look at you. All needy. Maybe if you ask nicely. Maybe if you beg,” he hummed.

Now he was the one teasing. He didn’t move, his hands didn’t even flinch. He just held you tight, pressing you against his erection.

“Please. May you please touch me?”

You were almost whining, pushing back against him. He chuckled, finding your neediness amusing.

He let go of your throat and turned you around so you were facing him. Sticking his hand through the cell, he brought it up to your bust and gripped your dress, ripping the fabric down the front like it was a piece of parchment. You gasped as it fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“I liked that dress,” you pouted.

Not to mention the fact that it was technically your work uniform. A problem you would deal with later you supposed.

“You look better without it. Now take those off unless you want them ripped as well,” he said, looking down at you.

You nodded as you slipped off your undergarments, tossing them to the side.

He pulled you closer to the bars until you were almost pressed against them, lifting up one of your legs with his hand, cupping underneath your knee. His free hand snaked down and one of his large fingers found its way to your cunt, spreading apart your folds.

“You might as well be dripping. Already so wet and I haven’t even got started yet,” he said.

The orc didn’t give you time to respond as he slowly began pushing his finger inside of you, stretching you out as your walls wrapped around his massive digit. A moan escaped your lips and it echoed throughout the room.

“Sshhh, be quiet,” he shushed you, as he began to pump his finger inside of you.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing little circles around it as his other fingers thrust in and out of your pussy.

You mindlessly ground into his hand, adding to the friction and causing ripples of pleasure to shoot through your body. You had never felt this full before. The size of one of his fingers was almost triple the size of a human’s.

Soon he was adding a second finger, gathering your wetness and pushing into your entrance, curling with every thrust of his hand.

“Gotta stretch you out if you want to take me,” he mumbled, fucking his hand into you at a quicker pace.

Your legs were trembling and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers. His thumb rolled over your clit faster, pressing down on the sensitive bud.

You did your best to stifle your moan as your orgasm hit you.

“There you go. Cum on my hand,” he said.

One of your hands gripped onto a cell bar while the other reached through, reaching up and pressing against his shoulder for support.

He didn’t give you time to recover before his fingers slipped out of you and his other hand let go of your leg. His hands unfastened his pelt, revealing his hardened cock underneath. It felt like there was a lump in your throat as you swallowed, looking down at it. You could see why he insisted on stretching you out beforehand. You were a bit worried about it fitting inside of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he said as if he could read your mind, “Now turn around and bend over.”

You did as he said, turning your back towards him and leaning down. His hand grazed over your ass for a moment, giving it a light squeeze before he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He held your wrists behind your back, his large hands covering them completely. His other hand held his cock, sliding it against your clit, teasing you with the head.

You groaned, wanting to push back on him, but he held you firmly in place.

He slid his cock towards your entrance and began slowly pushing into the hole. You stretched around him, the feeling felt so new to you that it sent shivers up your spine. Although his fingers had done a good job stretching you out, it was still nowhere enough to accommodate the size of the orcs’ cock.

You felt him tug ever so slightly on your wrists, pulling your entire body closer to him, sliding into you at an agonizing pace.

Another moan began to slip from your mouth, unintentionally loud. Before it could come all the way out, his hand moved from your wrists to your mouth, muffling your moan as he continued slowly pushing his cock into you. He growled, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“Shush, you don’t want your little knights to come running in here, do you? You want them to see you like this?”

You shook your head, slightly horrified at the thought of a knight walking in, especially if that knight happened to be Lothar. You hadn’t even given that possibility a thought.

“Then be quiet for once,” the orc said.

You nodded, and his hand slipped away from your mouth. This time it settled on your shoulder, his other hand slipping off his cock and gripping onto your hip.

He held onto you as he began to slowly rock into you, thrusting the rest of his length into you. Your back arched as pain and pleasure crept up inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

His hips were slamming against you, he was giving you no amount of time to adjust to his size. His balls slapped against your cunt with every thrust. That and the sound of you squelching around him radiated through the dungeon.

He reached forward, gripping your hair once more, pulling you all the way to the bars. You hissed as he yanked your head back.

“I asked you a question. Is this what you wanted?” he questioned.

“Yes. Ah-yes, this is what I wanted,” you said.

He let go of your hair, pushing you back down with his hand as he continued to pound into you through the cell bars.

“Look at you. Pathetic human. Taking my cock like a greedy slut,” he chuckled.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your moans. Every thrust was unrelenting. You could feel him sliding against that spongy spot inside of you and it was slowly pushing you closer to the edge.

You were getting louder and louder, whimpering as the orc fucked you.

His thrusts suddenly halted and you whined.

“No, why’d you stop?” you asked, near tears.

“I thought I told you to be quiet?”

“You did but-“

“But what?” he said.

“Please keep fucking me. I don’t care if they hear us. I only care about you,” you pleaded.

You weren’t sure what had overcome you but it was true. In that moment all you cared about was the orc behind you.

There was a brief pause before the orcs’ hands were wrapping around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could despite the cell bars between you. It was like something snapped in him as he began rutting into you, burying his cock deep inside of you with every roll of his hips.

You moaned, not caring if anyone heard you. You were so wrapped up in the pleasure that you weren’t even sure if you cared anymore if someone walked in.

“You’re mine, do you understand? I’ve ruined you. None of those pathetic knights can have this,” the orc growled behind you.

You were at a loss for words as ecstasy washed over you, too in a daze to answer.

“You don’t want them anyway, huh? I’ve stretched you out so much that only I’ll be able to satisfy you.”

You didn’t say anything but your body answered for you, clenching around his cock as he fucked you. And he noticed, grip tightening around you almost immediately like he was afraid you’d somehow slip away.

“Oh, you like that? You like that I’ve ruined you for everyone else? You want me to make you my mate, don’t you?” he said.

You found yourself nodding your head, not even thinking about it. Maybe it was just the pleasure or maybe there was truly something else. Something there deep in the back of your mind that wanted more of him.

“All mine,” he groaned.

Your body shook as you reached your second climax, moaning as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. That’s it. Cum on my cock. Just like that,” he grunted, still thrusting into you.

You were whimpering underneath him, slowly becoming overstimulated as he chased his own high, bucking into you. His cock twitched as he moaned, cumming deep inside of you. His hands were still wrapped around you, holding you through the bars as he filled you up.

Before you could pull away there were sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Your mind was too foggy to even react when you looked up, seeing the all too familiar face of Lothar stopping at the dungeon entrance.

“Oh my….what are you two…put some clothes on!”

Lothar had covered his eyes with his hand, completely in shock.

The orc chuckled, letting go of you completely. Your legs buckled underneath you and you stumbled forward, slipping off his cock and falling to the ground.

You heard the jingle of keys before they were tossed near you, sliding on the stone floor.

“I was coming to let him out. He can thank his chieftain. I’m just…I’m going to go,” Lothar said, rushing out of the room.

You laid on the floor for a moment. Too exhausted to move, too embarrassed as well. You could feel the orc’s cum leaking out of you onto the stone. You would’ve fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for the voice of the orc pulling you back to reality.

“Are you going to lay there all day or are you going to let me out, my sweet mate?”

[merrybloomwrites]

When The Wolves Come Out (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: Throughout rehearsals and the start of tour, the boys continue to keep their distance from Y/N, leading to her developing touch deprivation.

Previous chapters: One , Two

Word Count: 1.9K

Tags/CW: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly, cat calling, touch deprivation

AN: Normally I write longer chapters (like 3k-6K words) but I’m enjoying these shorter quicker chapters for this series. Feels like it works better, plus there’s less waiting time between posting, which I know I enjoy as a reader haha

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The beeping of your alarm slowly wakes you up, and you get ready hoping that today will be better than yesterday. It’s your first official rehearsal with the band, and you hope to win over the others by being able to show off your skill. If yesterday's meeting is anything to go by, you won’t be winning them over by your charming personality. Not when they’re apparently so determined to not let anyone get close to them. 

Just before leaving you pick up your bottle of scent neutralizers, about to methodically put them on before remembering the rules Simon had for you. He told you not to wear blockers, that they should always be able to pick up on your floral omega scent. You don’t really like this, as it makes you feel vulnerable, especially in a city you’re unfamiliar with, but you follow the rule anyway. 

The rehearsal space is a bit farther than the offices were, so you leave early to make sure you give yourself enough time to walk there. A wrong turn takes you down an alley that leads to a side street. Checking your map app shows this will get you where you need to be, so you follow it rather than turning around. 

The main street had been loud and filled with people, most probably on their morning commute. But this way is quiet, practically deserted. You nearly jump out of your skin when a voice shouts out, “Hey pretty thing!”

Turning around you see a man behind you. You can get just a whiff of his scent but it’s enough to know he’s an alpha. Internally cursing yourself for taking a back road, you start walking faster. 

The footsteps behind you grow louder, and you know that the man has picked up his pace to get closer to you. Now panicking, you start jogging down the road. You just need to get to the end of the street so you can turn back to the busier part of the city and you’ll be safe. 

Just as you get there he seems to admit defeat, and angrily shouts out, “You shouldn’t be wandering all alone with a sweet scent like that!” 

Doing your best to ignore that comment, you finish your walk and arrive at the rehearsal space. You try to compose yourself, but you’re still shaky, and you know your scent has probably turned a bit sour from the fear you’d just been feeling. 

After taking some deep breaths you walk into the room. Niall, Louis, Harry, Zayn, and Liam are all there, and they turn to look at you. After quick good mornings they go back to what they’d been doing. Not wanting to bother anyone, you head to the drums and take out the music you’d been sent. 

As you flip through the pages, you sense eyes on you. Looking up you see Louis staring your way, his eyes calculating, even a little bit worried. Like he can sense something is wrong. Maybe he does have some alpha instincts in him. But instead of coming over to check if you’re okay, he simply shrugs and goes to talk with Niall. 

Finally the rest of the band and the music director arrive and it’s time to actually get to work. It’s a bit chaotic at first, but it doesn’t take long for everyone to click. By the time you break for lunch, any negative feelings have gone away, replaced now by excitement. 

You grab food and sit at one of the tables, soon being joined by the boys. At first you think this is an improvement in your friendship with them. But then they start talking among themselves, barely acknowledging that you’re there. 

Rehearsals last a few more hours, and everyone’s ready to head home by the time you’re dismissed. As you head outside you’re surprised by Zayn saying, “Good work today.”

“Yea, you’re really talented,” Harry adds. 

“Glad you’re on the team,” Louis then says before all five of them get into their car. 

While walking home you think about that interaction. The words were nice, even if they seemed almost reluctant to say them. Sighing to yourself, you accept that for now, you’re looking at an amicable working relationship at best. 

You just hope Simon can accept that as well. 

Weeks pass in a flurry of planning, rehearsing, fittings, and numerous meetings to make sure everything is ready for the upcoming tour. 

A few days before setting out, Louis gets called in to meet with Simon once again. 

“Y/N will be joining you on your bus,” he states with no preamble. 

“Excuse me?” Louis says, shocked by this news. 

“She’s an omega. She’ll need to be close to alphas while touring.”

“She’s an omega. What if she slips into heat? Or one of us goes into rut? It’s not safe!”

“You know that won’t happen,” Simon answers. “You’re all on the best suppressants, not a chance you’ll fall into a cycle unexpectedly. You just don't want her around, and to be honest, I'm disappointed in you boys. You’ve rejected her since she got here, pushed her away, ostracized her.”

“We didn’t ask for her to be here. She’s a great drummer, and we respect her as a musician. But as we said before, she isn’t going to just push her way into our pack.”

“And as I’ve said before, you cannot be a pack without her. She will be on your bus. Maybe the time together will open your mind.”

Louis leaves that day feeling frustrated, like his words don’t matter. He gets home and shares the news with the rest. 

“I don’t like this,” Zayn says. 

“Seems like a bad idea,” Harry agrees. 

“What if having her around triggers one of your ruts?” Liam asks nervously. 

“I said that to Simon, he said it won’t happen cause of our meds,” Louis replies, clearly still agitated from the meeting. Niall moves close to him, tucking to the alphas side in an attempt to comfort and calm him. It helps, but Louis suddenly thinks that it might be nice to have the true calming pheromones of an omega when he’s upset. 

He shakes away the thought a moment later and instead enjoys a night with his pack. 

He manages to put the news of their bus mate out of his mind for the following days, but as they load up to get on the road there’s no denying it. 

“D’ya think you could wear some scent blockers?” Louis asks you the first night. 

“Not allowed,” you reply curtly. 

“What do you mean not allowed?” Harry asks. 

“I mean that Simon told me I can’t wear them. It’s one of my rules.”

“He’s such a wanker,” you hear Zayn say under his breath. 

Not wanting to cause any problems, you get into your bunk and try to sleep. Even with all the stress you’re feeling, the familiar lull of the bus driving down the highway helps you fall asleep in minutes. 

The next morning is tense, and you can feel the boys' annoyance at your presence. The logical human part of you knows it must be difficult to have someone new, especially someone with a strong scent, invade their bus. The omega part of you is less understanding. It’s on edge, upset at the rejection of the others. 

Luckily you arrive at the first venue, and you no longer have to worry about your dynamic with the others. Now it’s time to just worry about your job, about putting on a perfect show for the fans. 

And that’s just what all of you do. Opening night is a success, and everyone heads back to the bus on a high. You’re even invited to hang with them in the lounge as everyone comes down from the adrenaline of performing. 

For a little while, everything feels right. But then it shifts once more and you find yourself being pushed out of the conversation again. Not only that, but you watch as the boys huddle closer together. Liam rests his head on Louis’ chest, and Niall finds himself sandwiched between Zayn and Harry. The betas look perfectly content, and your omega cries out for that kind of affection. 

Not wanting to broadcast your feelings to the others, you rush out a good night and head to your bunk. You spray scent neutralizers on the curtain that separates you from the rest of the bus, hoping it will block your scent from getting out. 

More than that, you don’t want the boys knowing about the scented clothes from your former pack mates. You still have a couple from both Kevin and Joe, and you pull out one shirt from each of them. You place them by your pillow so their scent will be close to you. It’s a sad imitation of a nest, but it’s the best you can do. 

As weeks pass you start feeling drained. You write it off as exhaustion from the constant work and travel. But then you start to get shaky, cold, itchy, not to mention the headaches that seem to get worse daily. 

The European leg of tour ends, and you all spend a few weeks in South America for a run of shows there. After the first few days you finally admit that you’re experiencing touch deprivation. It shocks you, since you’re constantly surrounded by alphas. Their scents around you should be enough to keep this all at bay. 

But their constant rejection of you must be distressing your omega more than you’d realized. It’s never that they did anything major. They were never mean, or rude. They included you at mealtimes, would check in and see how you were doing. But it was always them just being polite. 

You’d also learned the dynamic between the five of them was deeper than you originally thought. On numerous occasions you’d walked in on them being physically intimate with each other. You’d seen duos, trios, even walked in on all five of them on the floor together sharing kisses. 

Even though you hadn’t expected that, it didn’t bother you. Part of you was happy for them, glad they had one another, and that they all seemed to have a healthy relationship. 

The part that did bother you was the jealousy you felt. You wanted that type of intimacy as well. Every time you watched the alphas dote on Niall or Liam, you’d feel another pang of jealousy rip through you. It’s not like you were looking for a relationship, but seeing how happy they were, it felt like they were rubbing it in your face. 

Plus the pheromones. They were overwhelming. Especially whenever the boys would get intimate. That always led to you hiding in your bunk and breaking the no scent blockers rule. Anything to prevent the others from picking up on the sweet smell of your slick. 

As the symptoms of touch deprivation worsen, you count down the days until your first US show. It’s at MetLife Stadium, and you consider it your hometown show. Your family and previous pack members will be there to support you. If you can just make it to New Jersey, you can spend time with Kevin and Joe. Hopefully being around the alphas will help with the depri. 

And hopefully your bandmates will accept you as one of their own before it’s too late.

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AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one should see the dynamic between reader and the band starting to shift, which I’m excited for!

[slmcclsgirl]

"My Darling Girl" -Part Two! stalker! Charlie slimecicle x f! reader

TW// kidnapping, drugging, smut, fingering, horror, stockholm syndrome, Charlie has mood swings.. DDDNE

uh hi yeah this isn't as good as I wanted it to be. most likely this will end here?

im sorry if this wasn't as good as y'all hoped. I lost motivation for it midway through, so I apologize if it's not what you would have liked for this. I didn't proofread it either so- yeah.

Hi sweetheart, good morning, if you don't want to know what your pretty insides look like, go to these coordinates, midnight. Bring only yourself. I’ll know if you have anything with you.’ Was the text you woke up to that morning.

Charlie watched you on the hidden camera, the tears streaming down your pretty face. He knew it wouldn't be easy for you to cope with how your new life would be. “Don't cry my darling girl.. It’ll be clear to you soon..” he said out loud, comforting you through a screen. 

He watched you all day. Shakily going to your classes, telling your friends at school that you loved them, hugging them extra tight. Charlie almost felt sad that you had to say goodbye, but he knew it was for your benefit. He already had a plan for what to do when you missed them. He had made fake “leak” texts, shit talking you behind your back. Your naive ass would believe it too.. He went down to the basement, where you’d be staying the rest of your life. He made sure every nook and cranny was spotless.. The bathroom had all your favorite products. He put in a whole effort to keep you happy. That's all he really wanted, after all. He triple checked his new cameras down in the basement, and made sure it looked absolutely perfect. He grabbed two syringes of sedative, and got in his car, ready to finally go get you. .. You watched the clock. You didn't want to do this, but what other choice did you have? If it was a harmless prank, nothing would come of it, but the bone chilling feeling of being watched ate at you alive. The survival instincts in you told you to run away, leave the state, and never come back.. But you knew that wasn't an option. You thought about your friends.. Family, even though they could suck sometimes.. You still cared for them. You’d go to hell and back to protect them, even if they wronged you. You searched up the coordinates in your phone, and they led about a half a mile into the woods behind where you lived. You grabbed a pocket knife, slipping it into your long sleeve. There’s no way this person could have seen that.. Right?

Wrong.  You heard your phone ding.

‘You're smart my darling girl, leave the pocketknife on the table.’ Your hands shook out of fear, sliding the pocketknife out of your sleeve.

Another painful ding.

‘That's it, good girl’ You shivered, and left the knife on the table. It would take you a good 10-15 minutes to walk to the coordinates. You grabbed a jacket, and a flashlight, as it was only the moon that would guide you out there. Slipping the jacket on, you tried to control yourself, remembering you knew how to defend yourself with a punch, kicks.. All that. You slipped out the back door, feeling the cold air along your face, you turned on your flashlight. Despite your mind screaming at you not to do this.. Your legs moved, frantically shining the flashlight everywhere, looking for anything or anyone. About five minutes in, you heard a branch snap. You screamed and your blood ran cold. Slowly panning the light over, all you saw was a deer. “Keep it together, now.” you said to yourself, watching the deer run off. .. Charlie was hiding behind a tree, waiting for his moment to start his little introduction.. He heard the rustle of leaves, just around 12. You saw that you were at the coordinates he sent. The clock was exactly midnight, just as the anonymous number asked. “Well, well, well,” Charlie said, still behind a tree. He could see the movement of your flashlight, going every which way. “Who’s there! I’ll- fight you!” you said, letting your adrenaline take over. “Fight me? Baby, you wouldn't hurt a hair on anyone’s head, let alone me.” he said, laughing slowly. “Let me tell you a story. April 26th, 2022. Three years ago, today.” He started. You felt your thoughts screaming at you to run, but your body betrayed you. “You accidentally stumbled into me at the coffee place over on main” he said, smiling, remembering the moment he made eye contact with you. “You were in such a rush, weren't you?” he asked, and you didn't dare say anything back. “I looked into those pretty eyes, and knew you would be my wife one day.” he said, now looking at her. “You look awfully pretty when you're scared, my darling girl.” You heard a branch break, and you immediately took off. The interaction from all that time ago played in your head. You were 18, and needed to pick me up

coffee to get to work. You remembered what he looked like.. The crazed look.. That had stuck with you. “Running already? That's no fun!” he shouted, immediately following you. He had his sedative at the ready. He closed in on you and you could feel him behind you. “Please- don't hurt me please-” you said, in a broken.. Pleading tone. He could hear your tears, and he felt himself get hard. He pushed aside his thoughts, as he grabbed you by the neck from behind. “HELP!” you screamed for dear life. “The only one who can help you is me, my darling girl, shh, go to sleep baby, it’ll all be over soon” he said, kissing your temple, as he uncapped the needle with his fingers, and stuck it into your neck, carefully. It stung, as you felt it enter your bloodstream. You sobbed, fighting, struggling for your life, but your body once again betraying you, started to go limp. He watched as you struggled, holding you up, laughing to himself.  He picked you up, like the princess you were to him. He brought you home, and laid you on the bed he had. The door to the basement had three different types of locks on it, so there would be no way you got out, but he tied your hands together, just for fun. He made you something to drink, and a snack for when you woke up. He placed it by the bedside table, ready to give it to you when you woke up. The bed had a very soft blanket, in your favorite color. He made sure you were warm, and checked your pulse from time to time. He didn't leave your bedside, watching you sleep. His own heart rate went up when he saw your eyes start to flutter open. “Shh, don't scream baby, save your pretty voice.” he said, grabbing your wrists. “My name is charlie, and i'm here to love you for the rest of your life” You didn't even know what to say. He was cute, but he was also fucking crazy. 

“I know you have a lot of questions, my darling girl, and I have all the answers you need, as long as you're good. I won't hurt you, don't worry” he said, happy tears coming to his eyes. Finally.. He had you. He climbed onto the bed, sitting across from you. He saw your eyes well up with tears..but not like his happy ones. “Baby, no don't cry, it's okay, I promise on our life I wont hurt you, I'm so sorry I had to prick you with that needle. I cleaned it up right when I put you in my car” he said, putting your wrists to your neck, allowing you to feel a band-aid. “L-let me go” you stuttered out, finally. You saw his face fall a little. “That's one thing I can't do, my darling girl,” he said, grabbing your chin. “Here, why don't I show you around your new home?” he said, grabbing your wrists. “You’ll love what you’ll see, I promise.” he kissed your wrists. You shivered in disgust, and he saw your body shake in fear. “Shh, it's okay, lovely, calm down, I promise, anything you need, i’ll provide” he said, wiping your tears. “Let me help you up my darling” he said softly, helping you to your feet. He showed you a closet first. “See! New clothes, and similar clothes to the ones you had at home, all one’s i knew you’d love” he said, showing her some of the clothes he had. “I can always get you more if you want, okay?” he said, smiling, holding back a giddy laughter.

He saw your shocked eyes, and he took mental note of them, noting the fear. “And over here, behind this door, is your own bathroom! Look here baby!” he said, showing you all your favorite products. “I made sure i got every single one of your favorites, I want you to feel right at home with me” he grabbed  face. “I know you aren't used to it yet, but you will, I'll ease you right in” he said, showing you over to the small kitchen. “And here is where I'll make you all of your meals, or maybe soon you can help me?” he asked, looking at you lovingly.  “Speaking of which, I made you a snack and some water, I don't want you getting sick from the sedative” he continued to ramble. “It's your favorite, i promise i didnt drug it, or anything like that” he said this with sincerity, he truly didn't. He gave himself a second to breathe..

You felt torn. He had done so much for you, but in all the wrong ways..

“I- i can't stay here” you said, mentally figuring out how to get out of here.

Charlie’s eyes flickered with something darker, you could tell.

“Well, maybe, if you’re good, we can start going out more” he said, grabbing your face, wiping small tears from the corner of your eyes. “I love you so much, my darling girl and I would hate to see you out on your own again..” he said, his hand moving up to your hair. “I was fine on my own!” you retaliated, stepping backwards. “You could've done this in a better way!” He immediately grabbed you again, always needing to have a hand on you it seemed. “You must be confused, my dear.. Life with me, your future husband at that, will be so much better. I know what you need before you even know yourself.” he said, suddenly moving to your ear.. Whispering softly “Let me show you love, my darling, or things will get ugly, real fast. So choose wisely, my darling girl.” he said, immediately not giving you a chance to respond. He grabbed your neck, forcing your head to not let you push him away. He kissed you, sensually and slowly. It was utterly, beautifully entrancing.. He had just kidnapped you, but hell, you’d be lying if you didn't appreciate someone doing all of this just for you.. You kissed back.

 “That's it, my darling girl” he said, pulling away. “Let me make you feel good, sweetheart” he said, leading you over to the bed, laying you down softly, grabbing your thighs. You were turned on by this, he was so.. Surprisingly soft and gentle.. Compared to the mania you witnessed when he kidnapped you. “Why me?” you asked, attempting to sit up more, but he just pinned you down so you could see him when he spoke to you. “Oh why you?” he said, gazing into your eyes, the bit of mania showing through. “You, my love, are the very essence of perfection, love, and beauty, of course” he said, feeling up the side of your body with one hand. “From the moment I saw you, I knew that's what you were, mind, body, and soul” he praised, trailing a hand at the hem of your shirt. You blushed a deep shade of crimson, you shouldn't be feeling this way, for a man who had just kidnapped you from the woods. But you did. “You really mean that?” you asked, captivated by the way Charlie looked at you. He grabbed at your tits, gently feeling them up.. You whined just a bit. “Of course I do, my darling girl. I’d move heaven and earth just to see you smile” he said, watching your expression. “Let me make you feel good” he said, already moving to take your bottoms off.

“P-please” you found yourself stuttering, allowing him to do so. He let out a low groan, as he found your clit. “That's it, sweet girl, let yourself go” he said, watching your beautiful expressions, hearing your whimpers and small moans leave your lips. He felt his own cock throb in his pants, needing release. “You're so good for me, such a good girl” he praised, loving how your face heated up at simple praise.   You whined, feeling his finger speed up on your cunt, allowing yourself to feel good. He slowly slid two fingers in, pumping them, trying to find your spot. “Take my fingers baby, take them, I've got you, forever mine” he kept praising you, his words only making your cunt squeeze around his fingers more. You fully moaned his name when he found your g-spot, and started to relentlessly hit it, making your head spin. He leaned down to your neck, sucking and biting, making so many different marks on your skin. “Marking you as all mine, baby, doesnt it feel good to be mine?” he asked you into your neck, making you shiver. “Y-yeah- fuck!” you moaned, and he felt your cunt was close to orgasm. He sped up, his forehead on yours. “Cum for me, my darling girl, you're taking it so well, such a good girl for me” he praised, fighting his own groans watching  you drown in the pleasure he was giving you. ONLY he could give you. You came on his fingers, your body shaking as he finger fucked you through it, the praise going straight to your head. He pulled out, bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting you on them. “You taste so good, my darling girl” he said, cupping your face. “That’s it, baby.” he said, noting the tiredness in your eyes. “Thank you” is all you could say, as your body was so tired from that, granted it was your first time being fingered by someone. “You're so welcome, my darling girl, I have so much more to teach you about feeling good, but for now, just rest, sweetheart. Rest those pretty eyes, and i’ll take care of you” he praised, laying down next to you. He took you in his arms, and as you fell asleep softly, he played with your hair.. “We’re just getting started my love” 

this sucked lol im sorry chat

[probablysimpledreams]

Drinks on Me (Dabi x reader)

ahhh bartender touya saaavvveee meee <333 I wrote this the other day but keep editing it so I really hope yall see the vision of cocky flirty yummy bartender touya (shoutout to touya yap sessions with @chaoslibra for giving my brain these thoughts <333)

cw: alcohol, bartender au, nothing crazy just some flirting (I say like I know how to flirt), use of "princess" and mention of makeup but otherwise gn reader

wc: 1693

"And you're sure this is the right place?" your friend asks hesitantly.

"YESSS!! Okay I know it looks a little run down but I heard the drinks are good," your other friend cheered. It was your friend's birthday a few weeks and the stars finally aligned this weekend for your friend group to go out and celebrate. You all allowed her to plan the night, taking you to dance at bar after bar. This specific bar was new in town and she was determined to end the night here. "And free if you have these," she proudly puffs out her chest, birthday sash sliding between her cleavage that was ready to pop out the top of her stunning body suit. She was by far the drunkest among everyone currently, making you and your other two friends giggle. "Now come on I want free shots from the hot bartender my coworker won't stop telling me about!!!" she announces before taking off into the bar, always a woman on a mission.

You and your other friends stumble in behind her, giggling still as you all were close behind the birthday girl's drunk level. The bar was small and busy, the sound of drunk laugher filling the space. The speakers were blaring music in the corner nearby a makeshift dance floor where couples were sloppily all over each other. Though you couldn't see it, you assumed there was patio out back as you noticed many people were grabbing their drinks and heading away from the crowded bar. After pushing through people, you all finally reunited with the birthday girl who was standing at the bar.

"Okay so where's the hottie?" one of your friends asks after you all are able to squeeze together and lean on the bar. You scan behind the bar to spot this mysterious bartender that has been on your friend's favorite topic for the past month. That's when your eyes landed on the most beautiful man you've ever seen. He was tall with fluffy white hair that messily framed his face. He was wearing a black button up shirt that was rolled up just enough to see all the ink covering his skin. The top buttons were also undone, giving you a full view of the tattoo and stack of chains decorating his neck. You eyes trailed upward, noting the lip piercings decorating the current smirk on his face. The piercings continued on his nose and ears, then one more on his right eyebrow. It's as if he felt your stare the moment you landed on his face as his shining turquoise eyes met yours in an instant. He was finishing shaking a drinking when he met your gaze, shooting you a wink as he poured the liquor into a glass. Heat rushed to your cheeks, causing you to look away and bite back a smile.

"Found him," you respond, heart beat racing in your chest as a drunk giggle leaves your lips. Before you could fully compose yourself, the white haired man had appeared in front of you and your friends.

"We celebrating anything special tonight?" his voice filled with charm as he spoke. "Or do you always go out looking this pretty?" Though he was asking the entire group, his eyes lingered on you as he asked. You felt yourself get flustered once again, offering him a shy smile and wave before your friend spoke up.

"It's my birthday!!!" she cheered. "And we haven't had any shots to celebrate," she lied with a pout. She had use this line at every bar you all had visited, and so far it has had a 100% success rate. The bartender looks over at the rest of the group, watching as everyone nods and pouts beside her. His eyes then land on you, huffing with an amused smirk as you nod and bat your eyelashes. Again his eyes linger on you a little longer, fully checking you out before turning back to the birthday girl.

"Well good thing you're here now," he turns to grab a bottle off the shelf and begins pouring five shots. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he winks at you before passing out the shots. You four cheer and clink your glasses with the bartender before everyone takes the shot. He makes quick conversation with everyone before he's forced to help another customer on the other end of the bar.

"Okayyy time to dance!!" the birthday girl exclaims, stretching as she moves away from the bar.

"I think I'm going to get a drink first," you mumble out, fully in your own world as your eyes stayed glued to the white haired bartender shaking an espresso martini. Your friends' giggles and snickers snap you back to reality, feeling embarrassed as you face them. "I-if that's okay with you of course!!"

"Oh he's all yours! Me and this girly over there have been eye fucking since I walked through the door, so I'm booked and busy," she responded, readjusting her top and spraying perfume before heading over to the dance floor.

"Me and [friend's name] wanna check out the patio, it's low key so hot in here with all these people," your other friend explains before the two of them head off towards the back. "Catch ya in a few, have fun with sexy bartender!! I want a full report tonightttt~"

You roll your eyes, laughing and waving as they walk out back before focusing back on the delicious scene in front of you. You transported back into your own world as you watched the man make all sorts of cocktails. The way he shook the metal shaker, slapping the bottom with the palm of his hand with an annoyed eyebrow furrow when it wasn't cooperating with him had you rubbing your thighs together. He made the pours look effortless, filling multiple shot glasses and sliding them to a group of older woman smiling at him. You watched as he opened a bottle with one of the many chunky rings decorating his fist. Was he wearing a bottle opener? Why was that so hot?? You didn't even notice that he was now standing in front of you, placing a drink in front of you. He reaches out to tap your nose, snickering at your startled reaction.

"I didn't order this," you looked at the drink then back up at him with a confused expression earning another snicker from him.

"Yeah no shit," he leaned in closer with a smirk, resting his elbow on the bar and chin on his hand as his face was now at your level. He was so close you could smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes radiating off him. It made your head spin, and you fidgeted with the straw as he looked at you. "You just looked so thirsty over here, and it's my job to fix that." Your brain short circuited as you took in his words, making his smirk grow as you fed him every reaction he was wanting. "Go on, take a sip. Don't you trust me?"

"I don't even know your name, so why should I?" you somehow pulled yourself together to start flirting back, happy to entertain his little game. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged, refusing to break eye contact this time. The tension between you two kept intensifying, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stared at you.

"Well, I'm waiting," you huffed, still stirring the drink that you refused to sip until he officially introduced himself.

"And how rude of me to keep the princess waiting," he teased and rolled his eyes in a way that slightly annoyed you. However the annoyance you felt only contributed to the rising tension between you two, making you want to pounce on him and wipe the smirk off his handsome face. "It's Touya."

"Well thank you Touya," you reach over to his free hand that was laying down on the bar and trace around one of his chunky rings, taking a sip from the drink as you did. His heart sped up at the way his name rolled off your tongue, but he was careful not to display this. He was determined to keep the upper hand in this exchange, even if you were too gorgeous for his heart to handle. You remove your hand from his to grab a napkin and wipe your lips. Then you reach into your bag to grab your lipgloss and slowly reapply it to your lips, heart fluttering at the way his eyes only leaves yours once to stare down at your parted lips. "The drink is very yummy by the way." You go to take another sip, back to maintaining eye contact as your lips wrap around the straw.

"See, I know what I'm doin'," he flashes you a cheeky grin, face moving even closer to yours. "Now I think it's only fair you tell me your name, pretty."

"________," you smile as you respond, making his heart rate accelerate again. You watch as Touya looks back towards the bar, making sure no one was trying to flag him down. Even if they were, it wasn't going to stop him from asking his next question.

"Well _______, care to join me outside?" he asks as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes before walking away from behind the bar.

"Shouldn't I close my tab first? What do I owe you for everything?" you shoot him an innocent look as you motion towards the empty cup and shot glasses at the bar. The deep laugh and hungry gaze he responds with sends heat throughout your body.

"How about we take care of all that outside?" he leans in to whisper in your ear, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers before placing it behind your ear. He walks away from the bar, looking over his shoulder to look back at you as he nods his head towards the back doors. You skip over to join him and he smiles as he allows you to take his hand and lead him outside.

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dreams

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Twenty-Eight ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: The true meaning of your dreams are up for debate, putting your relationship with James, and your sanity, in peril.

Word Count: 8.3k

Notes: When I initially wrote this chapter, it ended up being over 10k words, which even for me feels excessive for one chapter lol. So, I'm splitting it up so it's a more reasonable length. This all means that like usual, I've underestimated how long this fic will be. For those that want this to go on for longer, yay! And for those who just want me to wrap it up already, I'm so sorry.

Dorcas and Marlene came to get you after first period was over, the former's eyes pleading even before she spoke. 

“He’s like Romeo down there,” Dorcas groaned. “Please come down. I’m begging you.”

Marlene smiled at Dorcas’ torment, putting her books back on her desk. “We thought we’d all go to the RoR. Lily and Remus’ll meet us there after class.”

You figured they’d want to meet up properly sooner rather than later, only hoping they’d already gone over enough of yours and James’s timeline to satisfy their curiosity for the time being. 

You found James, Peter, and Sirius at the base of the stairs, James leaning against the wall as he tried to peer around the corner, awaiting your arrival. He beamed when he saw you, though he didn’t touch you when you made it down the final step, his left hand digging into the joint where the strap met his bag, his knuckles nearly white. You considered that this might almost be worse for him, having his best friends know and not being able to push it farther. Before, he was fairly well contained, having little leeway in terms of public affection. Now with six people knowing about you two, it may be more like a tease than a gift. You could only imagine the ambivalence of his mind, pulled between his intense desire to keep you safe and his equally passionate impulse to tell everyone he meets how in love he is. 

“You’re the worst actor in the world,” Marlene said upon seeing him.

James shot her a half-hearted scowl, calming himself when he turned back to you. “C’mon,” he said, smiling in a far more subtle way than before, an acknowledgment of the fragility of your arrangement. “They tell you where we’re going?”

You laughed, the sound somehow both feeble and light. “Yeah. Where else would we be going?”

“Smartarse,” he mumbled, some of that blinding brightness that he so often possessed peeking through his former pessimism, enough to satisfy your hope that he may forget the Prophet and bask in the knowledge that Mulciber was buried somewhere in the Ministry, awaiting trial. 

You barely sat down in one of the chairs when Dorcas pounced, leaving Peter’s face beet red despite the question having nothing to do with him. 

“So, when’s the wedding?”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let yourself shrink away like a wilting flower. You wouldn’t dare a single glance at James, who was sitting right beside you on the settee. “A little early to be asking that, don’t you think?”

She laughed, looking over at Sirius. “Black, did James ever say anything about his great-grandmother's ri—”

“I’ll put you on laps for a week!” James said rather abruptly, shooting to sit straight up in his seat. You weren’t sure who he was addressing, though it seemed to have the desired effect on both. Sirius’s countenance was largely unbothered, his brows raising with a lazy shrug of compliance. Dorcas made a face of comical surprise at his outburst, her smirk gone. 

You fidgeted, waiting for the awkwardness to settle. When it did, you made a poorly planned joke, though it was all you could think to do to save some semblance of comfort for yourself, and for Peter. “You know, most people consider those kinds of questions rude.”

“Most people find their friend hiding the fact they have a boyfriend rude,” Dorcas began, her look of mischief returning, “but I’ll forgive you. I’d hide the fact I was dating Potter, too.”

James scoffed, nodding towards her. “I’m serious about the laps.”

“Have you ever heard the word ‘mutiny’?”

“This is so stupid,” Marlene sighed, looking at Dorcas in disappointment. “I don’t know why she’s so curious, I told her everything—”

“Everything?” you all but shrieked, straightening the same way James had. 

Marlene’s mouth opened, mild fear crossing her features. “Oh, no,” she stuttered, “not everything—”

Sirius barked, half doubled in his chair. His hair fell into his face, rosy with laughter, his shoulders shaking as he stared at the scene before him. James glared at him, though unlike usual, it appeared entirely genuine. 

“Padfoot,” Peter uttered, shoving Sirius’s side as his eyes darted nervously between him and James. 

“Sorry,” Sirius said, his howls fading. He threw his arm over Peter’s shoulder, gazing at you and James the way an artist looks at a completed sculpture, admiring the craftsmanship of his work. “Wormtail, prepare yourself for the last month and a half of my life.”

“Padfoot, you blue-eyed prat,” James said, leaning forward and pointing at Sirius with steely, narrowed eyes, “no one needs any of your shite right now.”

Sirius was unaffected, snorting at James’s fuming expression. “A little fucking testy, I see.”

James’s cheeks went pink, his mouth twisting. “Stop being a dick,” he snapped. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” Sirius let out a wild laugh, seeming to enjoy James’s anger far more than James was enjoying slandering his friend. “You’ve got a head like a fucking kettle,” James huffed, sitting back. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“It’s thick and hollow. Only proves my point you had to ask.”

Peter recoiled as if James was talking to him, Dorcas trying to stifle a giggle at the spat unfolding like an amateur production of a Greek comedy. Marlene was frozen in place, somewhere between amused and horrified.  

You checked your wristwatch, grumbling, “When’s second period let out?”

Peter decided to skive off History of Magic, though it was largely inconsequential whether one attended or not, (other than the effect it would have on your N.E.W.T. grade), given that it was a miracle Professor Binns ever noticed any of his students at all. When Lily and Remus came to the RoR, Lily questioned him on the subject, though she could hardly disapprove of his answer. Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

By this time, James and Sirius had stopped hurling insults at one another and made up. Neither said a thing about their spat, and it was Dorcas who brought it up to your new additions, cackling as she threw herself over the armchair to look at Remus. 

“Potter called Black a kettle. It was brilliant.”

Remus hummed, a nearly unnoticeable smirk making its way onto his lips as he glanced between the two. “A pot calling the kettle black,” he said, as if it were merely an impartial observation. 

Even more violently than before, Sirius flew forward, his hands to his knees as he convulsed in a fit of roaring laughter, his glee in stark contrast to the glower now plastered onto James’s face. Peter was letting out short, barely concealed snorts, the others laughing along with less enthusiasm than Sirius, though it was admittedly a difficult force to match. You knocked James with your shoulder, offering him a smile of both amusement and sympathy, unable to stop yourself from appreciating the extraordinary nature of the phrasing. Remus, as always, was a master. 

James’s sour look lessened upon seeing your face, his eyes drifting to the ceiling in passive annoyance as the giggles began to cease. “Very clever,” he said to Remus, his voice flat, “but we have shit to talk about.”

The room fell silent, all eyes looking to you and him. You hardly knew what to bring up first, though Sirius beat you to it.

“Are you lovebirds keeping this thing a secret, or can we start complaining to people outside this room?” 

“I don’t know,” you said, glancing at James. “We only talked about it a bit last night.”

“James filled us in,” Lily said. “I think it might be a good idea, just to be safe.”

Dorcas shrugged. “I’m not sure it’ll matter that much. Mulciber isn’t here anymore, and Wilkes and Zephyr are on the run. They seemed to be the main players.”

“There's others,” James said. “There's no real way of knowing, but there has to be more people in our year who are involved—and we know there are sixth years, too, because of Regulus.”

Sirius ran his tongue over his teeth, returning to the same look he had this morning. “He’s close with Evan Rosier,” he said, still a bit far off, “and Avery, too. Snivellus is in with them all, but I guess he’s a toss up these days.”

You could see Lily sigh, clearly displeased at the use of the nickname. 

“Sirius,” you said, raising your brows. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. 

“Why don’t we just vote on it?” you suggested. You could tell if James wasn’t very supportive of this idea, though he didn’t argue. “All right, all in favor of keeping me and James a secret, raise your hand.”

James put up his at once, Peter not long after. Lily seemed to think it over, raising her hand after a few seconds, followed by Remus. You hesitated, eventually raising your own, thus closing the vote. 

“That settles it, then,” you said. You looked at James, knowing this must be killing him, even if he did vote 'yes'. “I’m sorry. I know you’re sick of hiding it.”

He smiled, a clear ploy to reassure you. “That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

You nodded, trying to remember that things would feel infinitely better now that all your friends knew, saving you from hours of sneaking around and dozens of lies and half-truths to keep track of. 

You took a breath, licking your lips in preparation for a long, arduous talk. “So, I guess we should talk about what happened. Did James tell you everything already?” There were a few nods, and you continued, “Did he tell you about the fish?”

All you received now were puzzled looks, Marlene glancing at Lily as if she held some answers, though there were none to be found. “Do you mean the fish?” 

“Yeah, the fish,” you said, going on to tell them the whole story over again, including the crow, as well. After your explanation of what you believed it all meant, you were met with a moment of charged silence, slightly uncomfortable like a bath gone cold. 

“It’s all come true, then,” Lily said. “Of course the red and purple fish has, but it seems like the eight orange ones—joy—must be James.”

“That’s what I think, as well. I put the pink ones, heartache, as me worrying over telling you,” you said, ignoring your burning ears.

“Your dream,” Lily began again, pensive as she stared at the floor, “it’s so odd.”

You furrowed your brows. “What d’you mean?”

“It’s such an excellent parallel, when you think about it. You run to the lake, a crow flies just above you and picks up the fish. During the duel, a crow flew above you right before you jumped into the lake.”

Not this again. Your friends' unyielding confidence in your Divination abilities was flattering, though you wished they’d stop putting so much weight into the nonsense your subconscious came up with when you were asleep. 

“It never picked up the fish, though, and the fish was very much alive the last time I saw it,” you argued. 

“Wait— remind me again what happens in your dream,” Sirius said, his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

You went into an account, explaining the differences between the two. “So, the second time I had it, it felt even more like the figure knew me, that they could see me very clearly. The crow also dropped the fish at my feet, which was new, and even though its eyes were white, it was still trying to breathe. I think I know what the figure means, but the fish…I’m not so sure.”

“What about the figure?” Lily asked. 

You had thought about it briefly the night before and more during the hour you spent alone in your room this morning. You weren’t certain that your hunch was correct, though you couldn’t think of another explanation given the facts currently at hand. Perhaps a few weeks from now some event would prove your theory incorrect, though in the meantime, you had to work with what you got. 

“I think it’s James,” your voice was softer than intended, laced with a tinge of embarrassment. You knew that if it were James instead of yourself, he’d feel no sense of humiliation for having strange dreams where you acted as a mysterious subject. But it's James, you reasoned, he hardly gets embarrassed over anything.

You felt James’s eyes on the side of your face, and when you turned to look at him you couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking. 

“I think that makes sense,” Remus said after a beat of contemplative silence. 

“I do, too,” said Marlene.

Lily nodded along, biting her lip. “You were never able to get to the figure in your dream, right?”

You shook your head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“But you were able to get to James yesterday,” she continued, still thoughtful. 

“The dream isn’t a prophecy,” you said, glancing over at James once more. A sense of calm washed over you at the sight of his face, a face that felt more familiar than all others and in which you could find no faults. You couldn’t recall when exactly you came to see him this way, though you now couldn’t picture someone more lovely. “It’s just my subconscious, a collection of my worries about the omens and my feelings for James. The first time I had the dream the figure felt familiar. I wanted to run to them for help, but the second time, the feeling was stronger. Way stronger. The urge to run to them was almost overpowering, and more than ever I was sure that they—I don’t know—saw into my soul,” you faltered a bit, reminding yourself that your friends already knew, that you no longer had to hide the way you felt about him. Still, it felt too revealing, like sharing a piece of your innermost psyche. You supposed there was no way out of it now. “That’s not really the right word, soul, but I can’t think of another right now,” you went on. “The point is, the dream doesn’t have to make sense, or even have a meaning beyond what I already told you.”

“What about the crow, then, and seeing the fish?” Dorcas asked. “Sure, the James thing didn’t come true, but Lily’s right. The whole thing reeks.”

“Of what, tripe and onions?” Sirius snorted.

“Shut it,” Lily huffed, glaring at him for a half-second. “Obviously, I’m in agreement with Dorcas. It all just seems a little too perfect to be coincidence.”

You rubbed down your cheeks, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. “Sometimes coincidences seem perfect,” you said, lifting your face.

“And sometimes they’re not coincidences,” James said, his voice very flat, as if he had no real feelings on the subject despite his comment.

“Not you, too,” you groaned, pleading as you looked at him. What you found was a peculiar expression, only a hair away from melancholy. You dropped your look of frustration, staring at him with a pit in your stomach. “James?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, dazed where he sat beside you. 

“James?” you asked again, to no avail. 

“Prongs?” Remus said in the same horrified concern. James’s gaze flickered to his, his mouth parting. 

He finally turned to you, his brows pinched in an agonizing sorrow. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, weak and broken. “I shouldn’t have—I can’t believe I got you into this.”

Your throat tightened, not knowing what he could possibly be apologizing for. “What’re you talking about? What did you get me into?”

“Everything!” He grabbed your shoulder, his hand coming to cup your cheek, brushing just under your eye with his thumb. “Your dream was an omen, it had to be, and I was in it,” his words strained against one another, brutal and dragging. He took his hand away, rubbing down your arm all the way to your wrists. 

You were silent, entirely still and unable to speak. Sirius stood up, though he did not take a single step. You could hardly pay attention to anything other than James, whose eyes were wretched, his entire being taken up in a storm of crestfallen sadness. 

“I was the figure you were trying to get to. I knew you in your dream. I saw you and I led you towards the lake, towards the crow and the fish and all the awful shit that—Merlin, don’t you understand?” He stared at you desperately, though you were still too confused, too slow to catch his meaning. 

Lily made a small noise almost like a gasp, moving forward in her chair. “James, no.”

James glanced at her, resolute. “Yes.”

“I don’t,” you stumbled, finally finding your voice. “I don’t get it. What do you mean you led me?”

“In your dream I wouldn’t come to you. I forced you to follow me. I broke my promise,” he choked, his head making short, quivering shakes, so unlike himself. “I said I would always come to you if you called me, and I didn’t. I don’t know why I didn’t, but I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“It was a dream,” you said, trying to console him. “You’re not in control of my dreams. You couldn’t possibly have known.” You reached for his face but he pushed away your hand, carefully bringing it back to your lap. 

“It was a prophecy, and it said that I would lead you towards danger, towards the bad luck and the loss of innocence, and it’s true. I’m the reason Mulciber wants you dead. Me.”

Sirius moved, standing above James, stunned and unsure. “Prongs, you didn’t lead her to—”

“Why does Mulciber want her dead?” James asked sharply, his mouth pressed into a harsh line as he stared up at him. 

Sirius met his eyes, though he didn’t answer. You watched their wordless challenge unfold, the standoff breaking when James looked back to you, his body rigid and his features still painted with distraught. 

“Your dream was a warning,” he spoke gravely, enough to break your heart a thousand times over, each crack worse than the last. “It was a warning not to follow me.”

You felt your chest twist. “That’s impossible.”

“She’s right, James,” Lily said. “Why would anything want to—”

“Because Mulciber saw the way I looked at her,” James said, no longer facing you. “He saw the way she looked at me, even before we realized it. He knew I was in love with her, and he was smart enough to realize that hurting her would be worse than killing me. If he had gotten her to—Godric, Lily, I’d rather have died,” he stopped, standing up to pace around the back of the settee. He stood a few meters away, his back turned as he continued to speak, no one daring to interrupt him, “Whatever it was, whatever the reason is that Divination works, it was trying to tell her not to follow me, because it knew that it would make Mulciber target her, and we saw how that fucking mess turned out.” 

He glanced back, just enough to see you. “I should’ve never kissed you, Y/N. I’m sorry.” He looked away again, ripping his gaze from yours in a way that almost felt cruel.

You suddenly felt very heavy, seeming to sink into the cushions of the settee deeper and deeper until soon you would fall straight through the floor, ending up in the middle of some classroom. You were thankful for Sirius, following James to place a hand on his back.

“That’s a load of shite and you know it.”

Lily said his name, though he did not turn. “We need to talk this through.”

“What’s there to talk about?” James mumbled. 

“This isn’t like you thinking that The Hobbit was a true story,” Remus began. “We can’t just let you go on believing it without discussing it first.”

James let out a bitter laugh, finally spinning around. “Great time to bring that up. I was eleven.”

“Couldn’t help it,” said Remus with no humor, his brows raised expectantly. 

You were holding the back of the settee like the gunwale of a boat, feeling as if it were impossible to leave its confines lest you drown in the depths below. “Jamie?”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered, seeming so small, a shell of who he was a half an hour ago. 

“I’ll call you whatever I like,” you tried to make yourself sound stronger than you felt, though you knew it was a useless endeavor. He would always be able to see through it. “Please come and sit. I want you to.”

He swallowed, contemplating your request for a beat before complying, still reluctant as he took his seat beside you. You wanted to stroke his hair, to take him into your arms and kiss his cheeks, though you did not. It was worse than keeping your hand in a lick of flames or a basin of ice water, fighting your reflexes, forcing yourself to endure the pain for what seemed like no good reason. 

Sirius sat back in his chair, appearing as if he’d been holding his breath for an indeterminate period of time, long enough to make his chest shudder. 

“All right,” Lily began, even and calm. “You think that the universe, or magic, or whatever we’re calling the thing that gives seer’s their sight was showing Y/N that you would lead her towards danger, in this case it being the fulfillment of her negative omens, which then happened to be Mulciber?”

James nodded, scratching his forehead. “Yeah, that's it.”

Lily continued, “Okay, but what about the fact that you helped save her?”

“She wouldn’t have needed help if it weren’t for me,” he said, filled with an obvious self loathing.

“You don’t know that,” you said. “Mulciber thought we were together before we got together. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference if we started dating or not. He already had it in his head.”

“It must have been different,” James said, tilting his head as if it were all plainly obvious. “I had to have acted differently. After that night, after we—you were all I thought about. Guys—” He turned to the others. “I was different, right?”

A hesitance drifted over them, a vague unsurety. Marlene’s eyes darted to Dorcas, then to Sirius. 

“I know that I knew before yesterday,” she said, “but I don’t think you were much different.”

“Me either,” Peter agreed. 

“You always looked at her a certain way. It’s not surprising Mulciber thought you two were a couple,” said Remus, much to James’s chagrin.

“Then why were you all so surprised?” James asked, growing short with the lack of support. 

Sirius chewed on his thumb nail, his foot tapping on the floor. Peter was much the same, timid and unwilling to answer. 

“James,” Lily sighed with a small, sad smile. “You’ve been looking at her that way for so long that it became normal. There was no reason for us to think that a month and a half ago you suddenly acted on it.”

“I don’t see how it can be any other way,” he said, more biting as he was backed further into a corner, the sole defender of his theory. “If the dream wasn’t trying to tell her I was leading her towards danger, then what the fuck did it mean?”

You shook your head, wanting to scream. “Nothing. It was just a dream.”

“For argument's sake, lets just assume—”

“No,” you interrupted, scowling at him. “Not ‘for argument’s sake’, because for argument’s sake means I have to consider the fact that the universe doesn’t want us to be together, which is completely, utterly impossible. I’m not going to—I won’t even entertain it, okay? It’s an impossibility.”

He was silent for a moment, as was everyone else, something heavy settling all around you like dust after an explosion. You felt your heart pounding against your ribs, your face hot with outrage over the very idea that somehow, someway, you and James were not meant to be together. You were filled with the desire to hex the person who would come up with such an insulting, objectionable statement, though you soon realized it was James who had floated the idea, and you held back your wand. 

“Mulciber’s gone now,” said Sirius, breaking the silence with a careful, calculated tone. “Even if you did lead her towards him, the omens are over with. They’ve been fulfilled, or whatever.”

“I think we can all agree that Mulciber was going to attack me whether James and I got together or not,” you said with a great conviction, surveying the others. James was the only one who seemed to disagree. “Good. Now, James.” You met his eyes, stern and unwavering. “The only reason I’m not in St Mungo’s right now, or in the ground, is because of you and Sirius. You spent weeks teaching me how to duel, so many hours I can’t even begin to count. Do you seriously think I could’ve fought him off the way I was a few months ago?”

“That's not the point.”

“It is. And when I was in the lake, you and Sirius were the ones to help me fight off Mulciber. There's no way of knowing what would’ve happened if you two weren’t there, but it’s not as if you made things worse,” you paused, somehow finding it within yourself to smile. “Face it, James, you’re the reason I’m alive. Mulciber would’ve come after me either way, and without you I would’ve been using the Jelly-Legs Jinx on him. Just ask Sirius.”

The man in question grimaced. “It's true.”

You grabbed his hand, and he let you, watching you trace a vein over his knuckles. “If anything, just for argument’s sake, the dream meant that I should follow you, because if I follow you to the omens, I’ll be okay.”

He sighed deeply, barely audible, “I don’t know…”

“You could ask Quattlebaum,” Peter suggested.

You nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I think it might be a good idea,” Lily began. “He might have better insight into this sort of thing. Well, he definitely will.”

“Just my two sickles,” Dorcas said to James, “but I don’t think the universe was telling her not to follow you.”

You were still playing with his fingers, happy he was letting you. Beneath the strength you mustered to argue, you were terrified that he may never listen to reason, that he would be deaf to your pleas and chose to believe what you deemed impossible. Even worse, you were afraid he would walk away, not because he didn’t love you, but because he did. 

“Could we be alone?” you asked, looking up. 

“Of course,” Lily said, immediately standing. The others soon followed, lingering in a mass of awkward worry. “We’ll be in the common room.”

“Okay,” you said, though James was notably silent, still staring at his lap.

When they were gone you brushed your fingers through his hair, smoothing it down behind his ear. You bent so you could meet his eyes, overtaken by heartache, wondering how you were going to convince him he was wrong.

“I love you,” you said, knowing that it wouldn’t be enough, though he ought to hear it anyway. 

“I know,” he murmured. “I love you, too.”

“Isn’t that everything? What’s there for the universe to object to?”

“You can love something that's bad for you,” he said, still as low as before. 

You kissed his hairline, pressing your cheek against his forehead as you held him. “Don’t be silly.” You pulled away, feeling your eyes begin to well. In a moment of weakness you kissed his lips, though he hardly kissed you back, just enough for it to count. 

“Please,” he rasped, grabbing your arm. “Don't kiss me.”

“Are you saying that because you don’t want me to, or because you think I shouldn’t?” you asked, your brows raising.

“You know why.”

You put your hand on the nape of his neck, sliding it up into his hair and along his jaw. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

He looked shattered, though it didn’t stop the selfish swell in your chest upon his answer. “I think I’d do just about anything you asked me.”

“I promise not to abuse that,” you said with a weak smile that dropped soon after, “but I will just this once. Believe me. Believe me when I tell you my dream didn’t mean what you think it did.”

He crumbled, bending forward until his head pressed against you, falling into a heap upon your lap. You felt him tremble, his shoulders shaking with silent, tearless cries. Without thinking you folded yourself over him, capturing him in a somber embrace. You whispered his name over and over, kissing his grey jacket, though for a long while he didn’t speak at all, his shivers dying into motionlessness. He held onto your shirt, curled as close to you as the settee would allow. 

“Please don’t do this to yourself, James,” you begged. “Don’t spoil everything once it’s just gotten perfect.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice crackled, the sound muffled by your clothes. He began to sit up, so you let him go, staring at his mused hair and straightening his crooked glasses. 

“Don’t say that. You don’t have to be sorry about anything.”

He swallowed, looking at you as if you were already lost to him, irretrievable. “Yes, I do. I’ve always—I knew I was the reason you had gotten hurt. It’s been killing me since yesterday. But now…I’m even worse than I thought I was, and I’m putting it all on you. If I were a better person, I’d leave.”

“Well, thank Godric you aren’t.” A tear slipped from his eye, running down his reddened cheek. You wiped it away, leaning closer to him. “I don’t care what the universe says, or what you think it’s saying. I love you and that’s all that matters. That’s it.” 

“What if something else happens?”

“It won’t,” you said, crawling closer to wrap your arm around his neck. “I promise that it won’t.” 

He seemed tortured when you craned your head down, your nose bumping his, though he still held your waist, slowly giving in. “How can you be sure?”

You smiled. “I have a hunch.” His breath shivered when you pressed your forehead against his, your eyes closing. “Is this your master plan to make me beg?”

That made him laugh, even if it was small and strained. “I wish it was.”

“Let’s ask Quattlebaum,” you said, moving back. “He’ll tell you you’re mad and paranoid, and then you’ll owe me big time for making me worry this much.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then Sirius is right and he’s a crackpot.”

“How convenient.”

You smiled again, this time just a bit brighter. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

Suddenly seeming incredibly tired, he closed his eyes, smirking despite himself. “Don’t open that can of flobberworms.”

“Why, because you think it’ll give you a big head?” you teased. 

“No,” he said, his gaze drifting away, “because then I’ll have to tell you how lovely you are, and that’ll take far too long.”

You wondered if you’d ever stop getting butterflies around him, or if you’d be old and grey, giddy over something he’s said. You supposed there was only one way to find out, if you could swing it, that is.

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When you went back to the common room before lunch, McGonagall collected you to speak to your parents in Hogsmeade. It was an affair in and of itself, for the attention you, and Hogwarts, received in the Daily Prophet meant they couldn’t be sure there weren’t wayward reporters lurking in the village, waiting for another break in the story. Without much of an explanation, you followed her to the boathouse, where she took you across the lake the same way you went to and from Hogwarts at the beginning and end of every year, and during the winter holiday. You held your tongue, waiting until you were docked to ask your questions. 

“Are my parents here, in Hogsmeade?” 

“Yes,” McGonagall answered, walking with you down the path through the trees towards Hogsmeade Station. “They are in the Hog’s Head waiting for you. Aberforth has closed the Inn for us to use.”

“Can we trust him?” you asked.

“Yes,” she repeated, hesitating before she continued, “He is the Headmaster’s brother.”

You nodded, unspeaking for the remainder of the short journey. You had no knowledge of their relation, nor any other member of Dumbledore’s family, for that matter. It was strange, however, that he should live so close and never be seen with his brother, or that no student has found out the connection.

Upon arriving at the station, you saw the groundskeeper, Hagrid, standing beside the tracks. You had only spoken to him a handful of times, though you had little reason to believe him disloyal to Dumbledore, or in with the Death Eaters. While there was always a chance for a shock, such as Zephyr, you always found something about Hagrid to be distinctly good-natured, a trait at odds with the necessary qualifications for their ranks. 

He smiled down at you beneath his untamed beard, his expression undoubtedly kind despite him obviously not quite knowing how to go about the unusual situation. You hadn’t much of a clue either, feeling better knowing you weren’t alone in the strangeness of it all. 

They led you away from the station towards Hogsmeade, where to your great surprise, you saw a car parked on the path. It was rather out of shape, parts of the chrome bumper rusted and the red paint lacking any luster. 

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she,” Hagrid said, his gruff voice filled with a childlike animation. 

“Is it yours?” you asked. 

“No, no,” he said, placing his hand on the roof as he admired it. “Borrowed it from a friend.”

McGonagall, who did not appear in high favor of what she was about to say, turned to you. “We have to conceal your presence in the village to the best of our abilities, hence the automobile.”

You nodded, looking back at the car. It was a hardtop and a two-door, making you wonder how Hagrid planned to fit inside, given that he was over eight feet in height and there were three of you. Hagrid opened the driver’s side door, motioning for you to get in. You gave him a puzzled look, wondering why they’d want you to drive, though he only urged you on. 

When you looked into the cab you saw that the car was charmed. Very charmed and very illegal. There was now a backseat, and the height of the roof seemed to be over double what it appeared to be from the outside. You took a step back, looking through the rear window once again. You saw very clearly only a front seat, making you turn to Hagrid and McGonagall in complete befuddlement. 

“It’s borrowed,” Hagrid mumbled.

You didn’t question them, resigning to the mystery as you climbed into the backseat. McGonagall sat beside you, with Hagrid behind the wheel. The engine sputtered as he drove down the path, the castle rising above the thick grove of trees lining the boundary wall. 

Hagrid parked the car in the alley behind the Hog’s Head, stepping out to check if the coast was clear. Aberforth opened the back door, nodding his head for Hagrid to come inside. McGonagall stepped out, hurrying you in behind him. 

You had seen the owner of the pub before, though before today you did not know his name. He had grey hair and a beard like Dumbledore’s, though not as long, and not as well kept. From the few times you had seen him, he never seemed to be a particularly pleasant man, always appearing as if he had experienced a disruption in his plans, or some other inconvenience. You tried to imagine him, ill-disposed and unsociable, standing beside Dumbledore, though you found the task difficult. 

You followed him down a narrow, poorly lit corridor towards the main room, which was equally as dim. The walls were made of an ancient, cracking stone, the ceilings held by thick, wooden beams, just tall enough for Hagrid to stand at full height. The hog head hanging on the wall behind the bar snorted upon seeing your party, though otherwise made no sound. Your parents were nowhere in sight.��

Aberforth looked at you, largely expressionless, with a hint of pity around the eyes. “They’re upstairs,” he said, glancing at McGonagall. “I’ll lead you up.”

Convincing your parents you were all right took a great deal of effort and some tactful arguments, though you were ultimately able to succeed. Your Barnabus Finkley Prize was a help, for you used it to reason with them that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself. You assumed Professor McGonagall had done her share of careful persuasion on your behalf, for they eventually agreed to forgo their temporary move to the village on the condition you would write them every Saturday and Wednesday, rain or shine. You readily accepted, leaving out all details of your omens, your dreams, and James. You supposed it would be a poor time to tell them about any of the three, allowing yourself to procrastinate on account of the dismal day you were having. 

You arrived back at Hogwarts the same way you came, quiet and meditative. You wondered if the Ministry knew about the charmed car or the meeting between your parents and yourself, though you didn’t dare ask. The legality of things was far from your mind, as was Aberforth. The revelation of his familial relations was intriguing, and any other time monumental, though James occupied the vast majority of your thoughts. 

You went straight to the kitchens from the boathouse, wrapping up lunch and taking it to Gryffindor Tower. Eating in the kitchens surrounded by the commotion of bustling house elves would be an unfavorable backdrop to what you were sure would be a depressing meal. When you stepped inside the common room, you found it entirely silent, without a single student in sight. You thought it peculiar, rounding the corner to find out that you were mistaken. 

James sat on the red sofa, entirely alone, turning to look at you with far less surprise than yourself. The fire was unlit, sunlight streaming in through the lattice windows, diamond shadows stretched out upon the wood floors. He had nothing in front of him, not a book or a piece of parchment. Not even the radio played in the corner. You stood motionless for a beat, your heart jolting at the sight of him. He looked dreadful, almost ill in his complexion. 

“You’re not in DADA?” you asked.

He shrugged, turning back at the empty hearth, the thick stone mantle, the tapestries, anything but you. He was slouched more like the way Sirius often sat, his hand hanging limp over the arm of the sofa. 

Without a word you went over, taking the seat next to him, your feet pulled up onto the cushion. You put your lunch to the side, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Only an inch remained between you, though neither made any move to close it. You could hear his breath, short and shallow, his fingers moving in an uneven, pointless pattern. 

“No one’s here,” you said, speaking low as if you were telling him a secret. 

“There's a sixth year Charms class now,” he explained, flat and emotionless. 

You looked at him, not knowing what else to say. 

After a while he spoke, still not meeting your eyes, “Do you remember that night when Dorcas got high and tried to catch Mrs. Norris?”

The question caught you off guard, making you chuckle. “Yes. Why?”

“I had a dream that night,” he said, far off, as if he were talking only to himself. “It wasn’t prophetic or anything, just a dream, but in it we were on the west bridge. I remember I kissed you, but it wasn’t a first kiss. It was like we had been together for a while, like I knew you’d kissed me before and that you’d do it again,” he stopped, taking a breath like the swell of a wave. “It was one of the worst dreams I’ve ever had.”

Your brows pinched. “Why?”

“Because I woke up certain it’d never come true,” he paused, finally turning to you. “I wish I could have kept you safe.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I don’t need keeping anymore,” you said. “Your job is done. Problem solved.”

He stared back at you, his light so dimmed it was barely recognizable anymore. “Everyone needs keeping.”

“You don’t think you need keeping,” you said, almost like things were a few days ago, playful, as if nothing was wrong. 

“I didn’t used to,” he replied, the corners of his mouth pulling into a joyless, bleak smile, “but I was wrong.” He looked away, standing up and walking in front of the fireplace, presumably heading towards the dormitories or the portrait hole.

“James—”

“You should eat. You skipped lunch.”

You loathed the way he sounded: curt, impassive, vacant. You wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him silly, knock out whatever it was that was locking away his fervor, his passion for living. You followed him, grabbing his arm. He let you, almost seeming annoyed by your interruption. 

“We’re going to Quattlebaum tonight before dinner,” you said, more or less demanding it. 

He sighed. “We can go tomorrow.”

“No. We can go tonight. He won’t mind.”

He shook you off, mumbling as he trudged to the portrait hole, his steps heavy on the floor. “It won’t make a difference.”

“James!” you called, though he was already in the corridor, the distance between you seeming as vast as an ocean, you without a ship or sail to take you across. 

You went up to your room after he left, trying to force yourself to read, though ultimately failing. Not long after you pulled on your shoes, making the long trek towards the west wing, thinking of nothing but the horrid mess that lay in front of you. When you arrived at your destination you didn’t know what you were meant to feel, stepping out onto the west bridge as if prepared for a transformative experience. What you received was only a sadness which buried itself deep within your bones, the kind which makes the world seem drab and dull, leached of its color. The heat of the sun meant nothing to your skin, the smell of spring air ordinary and unremarkable. You stayed there for a few minutes before wandering back towards the main castle, nostalgic for a memory you never had. 

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When Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas came back from class you were sitting in the window in your dormitory, your book lying on the floor beside you. You had been wondering when it was you would cry, for you had yet to shed a single tear today, though you felt that a weeping spell was more than warranted. Instead of crying, during which thoughts wove around one another like an indistinguishable, foreign script, you pondered all the things you could say to James to sway his immovable mind. They found you this way, deep in woeful rumination. 

“James is downstairs,” Lily said softly, placing her bag onto her desk. 

You didn’t turn away from the view, blinking yourself back into the present. “Okay.”

Marlene came to stand beside you, leaning against the frame. She stared down at you, her mouth contorted in a pitying frown. “I can tell he wants to see you, but he won’t send one of us to get you.”

For a moment your sadness was replaced with anger at his foolishness, frustration far surpassing what you felt when you fought over Mulciber a few months prior. There was a time, not even a full day ago, when he would tell you that nothing about you and him could ever be wrong. He had said that you were in love, which is the beginning and the end of everything, that all else would fall in place alongside it. Where is he now? You wished you could conjure him, make that James real again. The person downstairs was someone else, an imitation made to trick you into misery. You knew this wasn’t true, of course, though that did nothing to ease the ache. He is an imposter. He’s taken away my James. 

“He thinks that's what's best, not seeing me,” you mumbled. 

Lily said your name, her voice laced with a strong sort of sympathy, letting you know that although she would let you wallow, she would never fully concede to your melancholy temper. You turned, seeing her standing by the stove at the center of the room, her face telling you much the same. “I know you might think it’ll be weird, and maybe it will be, but do you want to talk about it?”

You pressed your lips. “I don’t know.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” Dorcas said, feigning an easier manner.

You smiled, though it was hardly happy. “I know.”

“Even though you didn’t ask,” Marlene said, taking on some of Dorcas’s humor, “I’m going to tell you anyway. I really think everything’ll turn out all right. I just can’t see it not.”

“Obviously, James would disagree,” you said, looking back out the window.

Lily went to sit on your bed, the closest to you. You didn’t look at her when she began to speak, watching the clouds drift like cotton wool pulled apart, streaked tufts in the sky. 

“When James came back up last night, we all went to the RoR—which was a real endeavor without the map. As much as I disapprove of their usual uses for it…it does come in handy now and again,” she chuckled. “Dorcas was an arse, obviously—”

“Uh!”

“—and she asked a million questions, which annoyed James to no end, and the whole thing was a bit of a mess. Marlene told her most of it already, so I’m not sure why she was so curious.”

“I wanted it direct from the source,” Dorcas defended, though it only made Lily roll her eyes. 

“I could tell he was trying to spare me a bit on the details, give me a little more time to get used to things, but he was pretty awful at hiding how he felt,” she paused, though you still wouldn’t look her way. “We never loved each other the way you two do. I don’t think we were ever really in love at all.”

Your breath caught in your throat, though if Lily saw it, she didn’t make any move to acknowledge it. 

“I’ve never seen him this way—none of us have. There’s just something different about this, but it's hard to put your finger on. All I know, all we know, is that if James is stupid enough to end what he has with you, it’ll be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his entire life—not that he’s lived some particularly torturous existence up until now,” she laughed, though it fell away quickly. 

Your eyes began to burn, the feeling of pressure moving up your chest. Finally, you thought, I can still cry. 

You put your face in your hand, your mouth half covered by your palm as you looked at Lily, still wearing her expression of commiseration. A stab of guilt remained over the whole ordeal: the kiss last night, the betrayal, the month of lies. It was still a wonder how she wasn’t more upset about it, though you weren’t in the mind to question it. 

“James’ll do it, if he thinks it's right,” you said, muffled by your hand. 

“And we’ll all be livid with him if he does,” Marlene said.

“He’ll have a face full of boils,” said Dorcas, entirely serious. “I don’t care if he kicks me off the team.”

You dropped your hand, frowning. “Don’t do that.”

“We might have trouble stopping her,” Lily said, rising from the bed. “But I’ll do my best.”

You stared off for a moment, the fatigue of the day catching up to you. It seems as though you were able to hold off for some time, though the desire to lie down, to close your eyes and let sleep envelop you was becoming stronger and stronger. There was a comfort in having your dormmates back, even if they didn’t stay in the room as you slept. If you turned into a statue during your nap, transfigured into marble, at least someone would find out eventually. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, your eyes heavy. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

Lily smiled softly. “Good. Get some rest.”

Still in your clothes, you crawled into bed, your friends pretending not to watch you as they busied themselves with their own menial tasks. You pulled the curtains closed, peeking out one last time. “Could one of you wake me for dinner, please?”

“Sure,” Marlene said, tossing her Potions textbook onto her bed. “Do you want to come down to the Great Hall?”

You hadn’t thought about it, though the prospect seemed daunting. They saw your hesitance, Lily speaking first. 

“We’ll eat in the kitchens today. Tomorrow we can go to the Great Hall.”

“I think I’ll be fine, really,” you said. “Won’t be any worse today than it will be tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not,” Lily said, firm but kind. “We’re eating in the kitchens, end of discussion.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue, especially when her efforts came out of compassion. So, you only nodded, slipping back behind the scarlet curtain, your vision blurred by unshed tears.

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Tag List: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile @eli-com @lovelyteenagebeard @letssee2468 @abhootghiihii @iamawkwardandshy

[clonetrooperjournals]

Cry baby

Summary: On a girls night out things take a turn when you end up arrested in Commander Fox's care and your boyfriend has to come bail you out

Pairings: Captain rex x Fem!reader (communications officer)

Warnings: fluff, angst, unconsented touching, bar fights, cute and happy ending

Words: 1.7k

masterlist here

dividers by @saradika-graphics

An incoming message from Fox chimes from Rex’s comlink while General Skywalker, Ahsoka and himself were all talking aboard their ship back to Coruscant.  

Rex answers the call, “Commander Fox. Do you need something?”  

“Captain... This is a private message.” Fox explains making Rex’s stomach drop.  

“General Skywalker and Ahsoka know about y/n and I, did something happen? Is she alright?”  

Fox chuckles, “She’s fine. She’s uh... here in my office. There was an... incident, but she’s fine.”  

The three of them freeze confused, “She got arrested?”  

“Are you sure it’s y/n? She's the sweetest person alive, she wouldn’t hurt a bug!” Ahsoka says.  

Fox nods his head, “Yeah it’s your girl Captain. Don't worry she’s safe. I have to keep her here, you know protocol, but I heard you were heading back so... you mind coming to get her on your way?”  

“What happened?” Rex asks panicked.  

“I’ll explain when you get here, but don’t worry it’s nothing serious.”  

Rex nods and the call ends. General Skywalker starts laughing, looking at his Captain, “I think our troops are starting to rub off on your girl there captain.”  

Rex sighs, “I really hope not...”  

... 

You were never gonna here the end of this... 

It started as a simple girls night out, you and the girls planned on dinner and then some drinks and dancing at 79’s. Dinner was great, it was nice to be able to hang out with some of the communications officers outside of work but when you all arrived to 79’s it all went to hell.  

You and Rex have been together for around 8 months, first meeting when you accidentally spilled your caf all over him while you were running late to a meeting. He thought you were so adorable in your frazzled state that he offered to take you to get you a new caf and explain to your superiors that you were helping him and that's why you were late to your meeting. After that you too just became inseparable, with late night talks, bringing each other caf, finding excuses to see each other and then Rex asked you on a date. You've been together ever since, and you’ve never been happier.  

He loved that you were quiet, kind of shy, incredibly innocent and literally the sweetest person he’s ever met. From baking pastries for the soldiers, to helping people with their reports even when you yourself were busy, you always put others above yourself, it was what he admired the most about you, and when you started telling the people closest to you both about your relationship, they saw it too. The innocent sweetness, the want to help others, the quiet and shy demeanor, out of all the people Captain Rex could have chosen, everyone understood why he chose you.  

You had been to 79’s a handful of times, having gone out for drinks with Rex and the boys. It became a comfort for when he was gone that you could go to this bar filled with clones being loud and rowdy and it would remind you of the boys in blue that were off fighting, waiting for them to return. Tonight, however things were different.  

After getting a table and some drinks you and the girls were talking and giggling enjoying your night, even some of them beings whisked away to dance with some of the soldiers, when three loud, obnoxious, and incredibly drunk Weequay men came stumbling into the bar causing a scene. The clones just ignored them knowing that they were just drunk but when they decided they were going to join your group at your table, you knew it was going to be trouble.  

The leader of the group was flirting with the girls while the other two behind him were laughing at his antics. You kept quiet and waited for him to get bored of getting rejected so they’d leave, but then he put his arm around your waist and stood you up trying to drag you to the dance floor, “Let’s dance sweetheart!” 

You tried to pry yourself from his grasp, “No thank you. I’m taken.” 

The man just laughed, “yeah sure. I've heard that before. Just a dance and I'll make you forget all about your guy.”  

“I said no thank you.” you yanked your arm out of his and tried to walk back to your friends as they looked at you worried. They know that you're not confrontational and this was already braver than you usually are, except his hand grabbed your hip pulling you back to him once more. 

“This guy of yours must be very lucky to have such a lovely woman... is he here tonight?” 

Your cheeks burn as you look down, “He’s currently deployed.” 

“Ugh a clone!? That's not a man. I'll show you a real man right here right now!” he shouts causing some of the patrons to look over at the scene unfolding.  

You pull your hand free and back away from him furiously, “Excuse me!? EVERY clone is a real man! More man than you or anybody else!”  

Fury crossed the man's face, “Watch yourself little mouse. Those are big words...”  

“I meant every word. Pig!” you spit. You here your friends gasp behind you and as you turn to them and walk away, then you feel your arm getting yanked again. You whip yourself around and throw your hardest punch to the man's nose and he falls back in disbelief, you freeze also in disbelief and then the other two men come at you. You panic and kick the first one's stomach and try to run back to the table, but the second one grabs your waist pulling you toward him, you reach for a chair and turn around slamming it hard over the man's head and he falls.  

It's at this moment that Fox and the Corrie's decided to enter the bar. You were trembling, tears running down your face, and blushing furiously as the bar had erupted into cheers at your bravery. Fox walks over head tilted in curiosity, “Y/n. Did you do this?”  

You nod unable to speak as the shock of what you’ve just done hits you, a new wave of tears falling.  

Fox chuckles impressed, “We got word of a disturbance here, and came to check it out. Seems you did our work for us... However, I do have to bring you in for questioning, and we’ll look at your hand.” 

You look down at your hand and see it's starting to bruise, “Can you... send my friends home safely commander?”  

Fox looks behind you at the table of girls that are also in shock at what just happened, “Yeah, I can do that. Boys round em’ up and get a speeder to escort these lady's home!”  

“Y/n wait! Are you okay? Can we come with you?” your friend asks panicked behind you. 

You turn and smile gently wiping your tears, “I’ll be okay. You girls get home safely and I’ll comm you when I can,” you turn back to Fox, “are you gonna call Rex...?”  

“Oh yeah. He’ll never believe this.” he laughs.  

“Me neither.” you huff.  

... 

 With a reputation for being grumpy and stressed, Commander Fox was actually a very nice man. After returning to the Corrie’s headquarters, Fox put you in his office while Hound and Grizzer kept you company. Hound let Grizzer come over and cuddle you while he treated and wrapped your hand, not commenting on your tears but handing you a box of tissues.  

“Am I in trouble Commander Hound?” you ask quietly.  

He laughs, “Nah your good! Rex made us recognize your face and to alert him if anything happened to you. Fox is just being a good brother and making sure you safe, nothing to worry about.”  

“Okay.” you say gently scratching Grizzers head. 

“It true you took on three guys? No offense but you look like you wouldn’t hurt a bug,” Hound grins.  

You sigh, “I don’t even know what happened. It’s like my fight or flight kicked in...” 

“yeah, and you kicked there shebs!”  

You giggle, “but this isn’t me. I’m a crybaby, I cried yesterday when a butterfly landed on my office window... sometimes I think I’m too soft for this war...” 

Hound gives you a gentle look, “You know it’s because of the soft people that were fighting in the first place. We look out for the people who can’t look out for themselves. It’s a rare thing to find gentle and innocent people with everything going on. I see why Captain is so smitten with ya.”  

You blush, “Thank you Commander.” 

“Just call me Hound.” he smiles.  

The door to the office opens and Commander Fox walks in with Rex, General Skywalker and Commander Tano while you sit with blushing cheeks and a sheepish look, “H-Hi Honey...”  

Rex walks over to you and crouches down looking you over worriedly, gently grabbing your bandaged hand, “What happened?”  

“Umm... You see I... I um-”  

“She kicked three guys shebs at 79’s! That’s what happened!” Hound says proudly.  

You look down avoiding everyone's shocked gaze, “I... didn’t mean too...”  

“You what!? Why?” Rex asks lifting your chin to his confused and angry eyes. 

You take a breath, “those guys said clones weren’t real men! I won’t let anyone say that about you all. You're the bravest, smartest, most loyal and caring men in the galaxy and I’ll punch anyone who says otherwise!... Well, I-I'll try... my hand hurts real bad...”  

When you look around in your blushing state you see everyone smiling at you, giggling. Rex sighs shaking his head with a smile on his lips, “Just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me...” 

General Skywalker comes over putting a hand on your shoulder, “I think the 501st have rubbed off on you.”  

You laugh, “Maybe a little...”  

“That’s what worries me. You don’t have to defend us cyare...” Rex says gently grabbing your cheek wiping the tears. 

You place your hand over his, “Someone has too... Just hope you don’t mind me crying afterwards.”  

He laughs, “I’ll be here to wipe your tears, but maybe let’s avoid punching people.” 

“Sounds like a good idea.” 

General Skywalkers comm beeps and he sighs signaling Commander Tano that they have to leave. They both give you a smile and a wave, “Glad you’re okay y/n... And if you want to work on your punch, you know where to find me.”  

He winks and leaves while Rex shakes his head, “Don’t even think about it.”   

You smile at Rex kissing his cheek, “Alright Honey. I won’t.” 

[berylcups]

SDC x Reader + Dios Minions : Learning their Language

CW: Beryls Limited understanding of languages, Eclipse Mention, disability mention

Notes: FINALLY! I finished it! 😩 this took me literally months to do. Well…not really but personal stuff came up in between and I also had to get a new car and that was a nerve wracking experience so yeah… I’m still alive. I really hope you enjoy because I really took my time on this and did plenty of research for each one. Please enjoy! 💜 Beryl

Joseph - Standard American English & British English

You wanna learn English??? Oh boy! He’s gonna learn ya’ a thing or two about English. For starters, “learn ya a thing or two” isn’t proper English. This man isn’t proper either.

He's not the best teacher but if you don’t already know the Alphabet it might be worth memorizing beforehand. Because he’s going to show you the difference between American and UK English spelling. Which spelling is the correct way you ask?

“Don’t worry about it! Spell it anyway you want! If we can read it then it’s fine!”

Also don’t be discouraged by all the silent letters you come across in the English language. It’s tricky but once you pick up on the patterns in writing, it gets a little easier. And remember-Native English speakers struggle with reading too so don’t feel bad! You got this! Joseph believes in you! (& Beryl does too 💜)

His favorite way of integrating you into his language is by snuggling up with you and watching his favorite movies with subtitles so you can read along. Just don’t get too frustrated if he falls asleep when you try watching Lawrence of Arabia with him. It’s one of his favorites but he watched it a million times already!

Jotaro - Japanese

Yare yare daze. You want him to teach you Japanese? Do you know how much of pain in the ass that’s going to be? First you have to learn hiragana and then katakana…and don’t get him started on kanji. He’s flattered really, but he thinks this is going to be too much effort than it’s worth.

Don’t worry, that’s where Holly pops in! She’s going to give Jotaro an earful about how she learned Japanese from his father and that’s how they got closer and eventually married. She’s going to give you her (probably outdated) workbooks and translation guides, and dictionaries for you to learn from. (Isn’t she so sweet???🥹)

Ok—he finally gives in and help you learn Nihongo. He’s not gonna talk to you in your preferred language anymore. You’re going to have to decode and guess what he’s trying to say from now on. (So mean 😭) but he's not a complete ass. He will speak slowly and clearly to you so you can keep up.

He’ll point to things and tell want he wants through simple sentences: “I want you to give me… I want to drink … I want to eat … I want to read …”

Once you get a hang of the language a bit, he’ll want to go to the aquarium and have you interact with other Japanese speakers a bit. Don’t worry if you can’t figure out what you want to say, he’ll translate when you get a brain fart.

“Wakarimasu ka? (Do you understand?)”

Kakyoin- Japanese

You want to learn his language? He’s so flattered, he can’t help but blush! He’d love to teach you Japanese!

He’s not sure where to start first…of course you need to learn how to read. But he’s wondering if teaching through video games, manga, or anime would work the best. You should pick for him to help him not overthink it. 😅

He’ll try to teach you through a mix of genres like horror, comedy, drama, fantasy, etc. He wants to teach you about the specific humor Japan has that might go over your head, jokes, tongue twisters, and double entendres.

If you’re brave he’ll teach you about all the different yurei, oni, and yokai Japan has to offer.

You might want to have him slow down because he’s going to info dump on you so hard.

“Hold on a minute Y/N! You’re reading that manga backwards! You’re going to spoil the ending for yourself!”

Avdol- Masri(Egyptian Arabic) & Standard Arabic

You can see the fire in his eyes from excitement when he hears you say you want to learn Arabic. Now…you better be serious about learning this because he’s not going to let you back out just because you get a little intimidated by its difficulty level. He says if he can learn English, than he has no doubt in his heart that you can learn Arabic!

What he didn’t tell you though was… you’re actually learning 2 dialects at once. It’s very important for you to know Egyptian Arabic and Modern Standard Arabic. Egyptian Arabic is needed because that is what most people in Cairo speak. This form of Arabic will help you get to know the locals on a more personal level and get more used to the culture and customs. Modern Standard Arabic is used for formal settings and when you are writing. Speaking of writing…they read and write from right to left! But if you have a good understanding of Arabic writing, you probably already know that.

He’s going to really focus hard on your reading and writing. Al-abjadiyah is the Arabic alphabet and each letter changes form depending on where in the word it is! Don’t worry, he knows this is going to take a while. He’s going to take his time with you. Unlike Polnareff, he is patient.

“Pfft! Ahem, Remember: write right to left, Habibi/ti.”

Once you get used to the language a bit he’ll sit with you and read to you to help you understand the spelling of words and see the patterns of the letters in the different forms taking place in each word. …They’re definitely books for little children but you’ll be making it to more complicated wordy books soon enough!

Polnareff - French

You want to learn the language of love? There’s no better man to learn it from than this pervert romanticist! At least…that’s what he says. The guy is good at teaching but he’s impatient and fussy as hell! 😩 it’s almost as if learning a 2nd or 3rd language is hard! Who would have thought???

“Non non non! Parler français comme un vache espagnole!(your French is very broken!) Come on! You’re using the wrong gendered noun! No..I’m sorry but there’s no gender neutral version for house. Please don’t despair! You can use iel/yel but it might cause some confusion and you might have to use some explanation if someone doesn’t understand… or you could use flip flop between male and female nouns if that doesn’t cause you distress! If anyone has a problem, I’ll tell them “Je vais lui sonner les cloches!”(tell them to mind their own business!)”

Now as an English speaker, you are going to have to rewire your brain on how the Alphabet works because nearly half of the letters in French sound like they’re silent in English! 😰 But that’s okay! You have an enthusiastic but impatient teacher, Polnareff to guide you along the way! The best way to get you involved into the language is through the culture. And that’s through a wine and cheese tasting and then a visit to the very famous Louvre Museum. (This feels more like a date than an educational opportunity…)

Looking at the names of the bottles and how he pronounces the names will help you pick up on the consonants sound and hearing other civilians will help fine tune your own accent and pronunciation.

“Blanc Sauvignon? Did I say that right?”

“Haha—magnifique! you’re getting closer! Say it more with less emphasis on the V.”

Hol Horse- American English (southern)

You wanna learn American English? Well hold your horses, I’m fixin’ to teach you. Just give me a cotton pickin second! English is already a complicated language and we in the south like to make it even more complicated. What’s the most difficult southern saying? It’s “well bless your heart!” It’s usually used to be sassy, but it’s also used to show sympathy…so bless your hearts wisely.

It’s going to be best if you already have grasp of the bare basics of the English language if you ever want to understand whatever the hell Hol Horse is saying. But for you, he’ll take his sweet time and explain everything he means. ❤️

“Don’t take anything I say in English to heart baby girl/boy. You don’t understand something’ you let me know, ya hear?”

For starters, we don’t use proper grammar. Ain’t got no time for that. The best way to understand southern American English is through your stomach…at a family BBQ.

Don’t worry, he’ll make your plate. You might wanna tell him to take it easy, I don’t think that paper plate can handle all that food. 😅 you’re gonna be fuller than a tick! Also if someone offers you a coke, they’re gonna ask which one. Coke doesn’t mean just cola, just soda in general.

“It’s safe to eat funeral potatoes I swear! It has nothin to do with no funeral. It’s just hash brown casserole. It’s good! …I mean, it CAN be served at a funeral but you can have it at any time!”

Devo- Diné Bizaad(Navajo language)

You want to learn his language??? You’re going to melt this cold blooded killers heart!❤️ It’s a sad fact that his language is a dying one. No thanks to the European settlers, but that’s a story for another time. He wants to share all of the goodness of his culture with you and the language of his people-Diné Bizaad which means “people’s language”.

I hope you are serious about his language because it is the hardest language in the world to learn.

In all honesty, he doesn’t really expect you to be a fast learner. You are going to have 33 consonants and 12 vowels to memorize and make your mouth replicate.

He doesn’t want to scare you off so he’s going to start you off easy with simple words that are important to his culture. You’ll learn about the four sacred colors, native symbols, traditions, food, and artwork.

“It’s forbidden to look at a solar eclipse. We stay inside our hogans and sit in contemplation about the sun and moon. We believe the sun and moon are interacting with each other.”

Rubber Soul- Singlish (Singaporean English)

Shiok! Lucky for you in Singapore, there’s a medley of languages spoken there! This man is a complete dumbass but he knows Mandarin, Malay, and English. Singlish IS English but the only catch is, it features a beautiful but complex patchwork of languages featuring Malay, Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, Tamil, and Teochew… So even if you are already an English speaker, you are in for an adventure!

He’s going to take you to hawker center and show you how to live like a true Singaporean! And first thing first is chope-ing. That’s probably the most important Singlish word you are ever going to hear. To chope is reserving a seat by setting your personal belongings down, like a handkerchief, a pack of tissues, or something bigger like a backpack. Low crime don’t mean no crime so don’t leave anything super important behind. Don’t worry about theft…Rubber Soul will be eager to give a back breaker to anyone who dares to try to steal your wallet. 😬

“Why does everyone talk like they’ve been google translated??? Pfft—don’t talk cock lah! That’s exactly what Singlish is. I told you that you weren’t going to understand it off the bat!”

Don’t try and argue with him on it. He’ll speak in complete Singlish and then not ask—but demand to repeat back what he just said in English. Only for him to laugh in your face. 😭

“Wah piang! So crowded! Where you want to makan? Chop chop—going to rain already! You go chope that table. Here have Indian, Thai, Sichuan, Malaysian, Indonesian, and Japanese. You want kopi ah? I SMS when ready. Ok—what did I just say?”

…

“Wah Lao eh?! I literally gave you the EASIEST Singlish phrases to translate! Man you are dumb—still love ya though!”

Steely Dan- Urdu

You wanna learn Urdu? Well of course you do! You might want to have an understanding of basic conversation in Urdu because he isn’t the best teacher despite how much boasts being otherwise. But he’s all smug and secretly giddy that you want to learn Urdu. If you know Arabic, you’re off to a good start! But you are going to have to rewire your brain to pronounce each letter differently and learn a few new ones.

“Of course you should learn my language! Do you know how much I go out of my way to communicate my love for you? Luckily for you I got top grades in writing and grammar in school so you have the best-most-handsome teacher ever.”

Oh boy, you have done it. You stroked his ego and now he’s going to non stop complimenting himself.

He’s going to expect lots of love letters in Urdu from you to him and vice versa. He’s going to have you read them aloud to him so he can hear his own flowery cheesy declarations of love for you. But tread carefully… he’s a grammar authoritarian and human spell checker! He’ll poke fun at your very hard attempts of writing this challenging language. (Just pretend to cry a bit or cry for real, he can’t stand crying and he’ll immediately start being much nicer)

“You call that Urdu?! Where’s your penmanship??? Those look like squiggly little worms!”

“Okay okay—don’t cry! I’m sorry ok?! I love you baby! I really mean it too! No more tears! I’ll help you rewrite your misspellings.”

N’Doul- Masri (Egyptian Arabic) and Arabic Braille*

He’s very flattered. He’d love to teach you, but due to his eyesight, he won’t be able to help you read but with his heightened sense of hearing he can really help you to pronounce everything correctly and get the accent right.

“Good effort, love. But you aren’t using your throat. You need to use your throat to pronounce the Al-Ahruf Al-Halqiyyah (6 throat letters). Try again. I know you can do it.”

Don’t worry about struggling. He understands what it’s like to struggle in life. He won’t baby you just like he expects you not to baby him because of his visual impairment. He’ll gently correct you each time you make a mistake.

—

Now if you’re blind too, or curious about a new way of reading, he’ll teach you Arabic Braille.

*Theres many different types of blindness and it doesn’t explicitly say what N’Doul has. But based off of his eyes and age he probably has congenital cataracts. This is just a HC. It’s all up to you!*

Now he can see just barely enough to guide your hand across the page to teach you each letter in braille. Braille in general is becoming used less and less so he is really intent on teaching you this important life skill as a visually impaired person. Interestingly enough, Arabic Braille is read left to right!

“I vaguely remember what Arabic script looked like before my sickness took away my vision. It used to feel strange reading from right to left and then left to right when I started learning Braille. It was a vast difference and took me a long time to learn. So please don’t worry if you struggle or make mistakes.”

With having you, Geb, and his heightened senses, he doesn’t really miss his vision. He just enjoys each passing moment with you, teaching you his language and sharing his culture

[prettydaisygirl]

zombie AU with Rafe Cameron x fem!reader who gets attacked while Rafe is gone ✿ 3.0k words

cw: zombie apocalypse, fem reader, rafe makes bad decisions, rafe kills a man (not explicitly described), reader needs help and is kinda pathetic in this one, reader is physically attacked, reader has hair long enough to tie up and grab.

rafe cameron masterlist

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Rafe is getting antsy again. You don’t know what else to call it - jittery? You watch him enough to notice the signs, and you’ve been at your new safe house long enough now that he’s starting to feel a little more comfortable. That’s usually when things go wrong. 

He hasn’t slept well the last few nights. You know because you spend the parts of your watch without your nose buried in a book staring at him, watching him sleep. You recognize that you’re probably a little pathetic, given that Rafe still seems like he’d be willing to trade you for a joint. 

Tonight, he’d merely said your name to wake you up for your watch shift, grunting it lowly as he shook your shoulder. He tossed and turned for hours, his face never relaxing fully. It might be the old mattress on the floor, or it could be… something else.

This time the two of you are camped out in a small home at the end of a very long, winding country road.  You can tell the place has been abandoned for a long time but right now shelter is shelter, and anything that can stay in one piece during a big storm is considered up to Rafe’s standards. The floors creak as you get dressed, trying your best not to wake him. 

You tie your hair back, stepping out of the bedroom and down the long hallway. It’s cold in here, you notice, and move to the front door to grab your coat. You slide your arms through the sleeves as you step onto the wrap around porch. It has to be late November by now, you think. Your stomach churns thinking about the holidays. You miss your family, you miss waking up every day and the worst thing that happens is the barista messes up your coffee. You miss when things were normal. 

Your eyes scan the treeline as you will them to stop burning, the old Victorian home you’re both in surrounded by forest but placed in the middle of a clearing. Rafe has a fixation with finding homes in the middle of empty fields. He says no one can sneak up on you that way, but you aren’t so sure. You aren’t sure about a lot of the things he says, but he’s gotten you this far. Even if he acts like he hates you, he still keeps you safe. 

You unconsciously find yourself coming back to attention, your eyes drawn to a specific spot in the treeline. At first you aren’t sure what triggered your reaction, but then you see it. There’s a faint… shimmer among the bushes. One you’ve never seen before. Your heart sinks and you think it could be a flashlight. 

You step backward to the front door of the house, pushing it open with your hip. You keep your eyes on the flickering light in the trees, not wanting to lose it.

“Rafe?” You call out to him, hoping he can hear you from upstairs. You wait a few moments in the lingering silence. Nothing. You call his name a second time, but there’s still nothing. Not even a creaking floorboard. You curse under your breath. Of course, now he manages to fall into a deep sleep.

You grab your baseball bat, one you’d found a few days ago on a run. You figured it would be good to keep around, and now you’re glad you did. Your heart pounds, but the light hasn’t moved. It just continues to gently flicker. 

Your shoes squish in the damp grass, sopping wet from morning dew and the past several days of heavy rain. You grip the bat tightly in your hand, trying to mentally prepare yourself to use it if you have to. You really hope you don’t have to. 

The light stays in place as you approach the treeline. The bat hangs idly at your side, heart pounding and you freeze when you finally see it. It’s… a potato chip bag, one of those small ones you would buy at a concession stand. You reach down to grab it, hand shaking. The aluminium crinkles under the pressure of your fingers and you slowly scan through the trees. You don’t see anything else, but you know the bag wasn’t there before. It makes you anxious.

You return to the house, and it’s still quiet. Rafe wakes with a groan when you let the bat clatter to the ground. He rubs at his eyes. He still looks tired.

“The fuck?” His voice comes out as a raspy growl after hours of lack of use. You hold out the chip bag and he looks at you like you’ve grown two extra heads. 

“I found this outside.” You tell him, and he still has that blank look on his face. The one he wears when he thinks you’re being stupid. 

“Did you find some birds too? Bring one of those back?” Rafe stretches his arms over his head and you frown, shame churning in your stomach with his dismissal.

“Rafe, it wasn’t there before! Don’t you think that’s weird?” 

“I think there’s been storms for the last ten fuckin’ days and some trash blew into the trees! I was finally getting some good goddamn sleep, and you wake me up for a fuckin’ chip bag?” His words are harsh, biting, and you flinch, your arm falling back to your side. The bag falls to the floor by your feet. You hate the way he dismisses you. Like you’re stupid, he always acts like you’re stupid. You’re not.

“Rafe, I just think it’s weird-” You try to speak up again, you try to get him to hear you. He doesn’t. 

“Can you just shut the fuck up and go away?” He gets in your face. You take a step back. The air is thick enough to cut with a knife and you curl in on yourself. He’s such a dick. You reach down to grab the bag and step out of the room. You don’t let him see you cry, not this time.

Rafe doesn’t speak to you all day. In fact, you hardly interact at all. It’s late afternoon by the time you hear his voice again, and his words are less hurtful but no less upsetting this time.

“I’m going on a run.” He says, backpack and shoes already on. He approached you at the window where you sit, reading your book and listening to the rain. Your brow furrows.

“It’s raining.” You say, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table before standing. “And I thought we already got enough, you said we would be fine for a month.”

“Doesn’t matter what I said, I’m going. You stay here.” Rafe says, face void of emotion as your own crumbles.

“What?” You’re sure your voice sounds pathetic to him, because it does to you. But you haven’t been alone since Rafe found you, maybe long enough to pee or bathe on the occasion you can. “You’re leaving me here by myself?”

“I won’t be gone long,” He says, and he ties up his boots after he slides them on. 

And just like that you’re alone. And it’s terrifying. Every creak of the old house has you paranoid. You search it from top to bottom three times, even checking the attic. There’s no one here, alive or undead. You still can’t relax.

It gets worse when the sun sets. Rafe’s been gone for at least an hour and when he told you he would be back soon, you thought for sure he wouldn’t leave you alone after dark. But here you are, curled up on the mattress in the bedroom like a frightened child. 

The wind howls outside and you try to sleep. You figure if you can sleep until Rafe comes back, at least you won’t be afraid. The problem is your brain keeps running and you keep thinking about what might happen if Rafe never comes back. What if he went out there and got bit and you’re here by yourself waiting for him but he’s not coming. 

You try not to spiral. You try not to think about it. But that only forces your brain to race faster. 

Your eyes snap open when you hear a creak from downstairs. It is distinct from the other sounds, a familiar one you know to be the front door. You sit up, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders and you stand. Your feet pad across the wooden floors as you approach the bedroom door, peaking your head out. The house is fully dark, and a rumble of thunder outside has you practically jumping out of your skin. 

You step out of the bedroom into the hallway, trying to listen for any more sounds. You know you heard the front door open. Another creak has you calling out, thinking maybe Rafe is still just mad and ignoring you. 

“Rafe?” Your voice echoes through the empty house, the sound bouncing off of cold, dark walls. There’s no response and you feel the hair at the nape of your neck stand on end. “Rafe, if you’re back, say something, please.”

But there’s nothing. Your heart races and you swallow nervously, stepping back into the bedroom and closing the door behind you. The house is silent again, and you settle back on the mattress in the pitch black room. You close your eyes and will your heart to stop pounding, but it won’t. Your body is on high alert and you find yourself wishing for nothing more than for Rafe to burst through that door and laugh when you get scared. You don’t even care if he calls you stupid again. 

There’s a creak at the end of the hallway and your whole body freezes. There’s another and your hand darts out to feel for the baseball bat. Where the fuck is it? Why isn’t it next to the mattress? 

You remember when you had taken it out this morning. Shit.

There’s a loud thump right outside the door, making you jump, and it creaks open. For a moment everything is in limbo. You wonder if maybe you fell asleep and you’re having a nightmare. 

“Rafe?” You call out desperately, though you know it’s useless. There’s stomping across the room, right in your direction, and suddenly you’re fighting for your life. 

You cry out as you are grabbed by your hair, and thrown to the ground. You struggle against your attacker, kicking and shoving as best as you can.

“Fuckin- stop-” The man grunts and he is able to get ahold of your wrists. You cry out desperately, for Rafe, for anyone. 

He is able to restrain you fairly easily, though you credit most of it to the circumstances to save your pride. He stands over you, and you hear the click of a flashlight.

Suddenly you’re blinded.

You cry out and the man above you just laughs. By the time you open your eyes again, he is on the other side of the room, going through your things.

“H-Hey!” You call out, struggling against the restraints. “Stop!”

“I been waitin’ all goddamn week for y’all to leave again. I didna expect for him to leave you behin’, darlin’” The man’s voice slurs as he searches your bag. He pockets all of your medications and you watch helplessly. You cry and struggle but it is no use. He takes everything. 

He searches the rest of the house and all you manage to do is crawl to the bedroom door. It’s still pitch black in your room but you watch the man’s flashlight move through the house as he steals everything you have. 

He comes back to the bedroom, roughly shoving you out of the way and you hiss as your arm scrapes the floor. The man takes a seat where you normally take watch, legs parted like he belongs here. You feel sick. 

He grunts and groans as he readjusts everything in his bag. He seems satisfied with his haul. He takes out a bottle of water and begins to sip on it. You can only see snippets of him, bits of skin and movement as the flashlight shifts. Your whole body turns ice cold when he pulls a bag of chips out of his backpack. 

You laugh.

“What, girl?” He questions you, shining the flashlight back in your face. You turn away instinctively with a hiss, but you manage to answer him.

“Your chips. That was your bag. You’ve been watching us.”

“Ding ding, sweetheart. You’re right.” He licks his fingers disgustingly, you can hear it across the room and you wanna gag. 

Where is Rafe?

You hear the chair scratch against the floor as the man stands. His steps are loud, booming as he approaches you. Your cheeks are wet by this point, your throat raw, and part of you wonders if maybe this is it.

The front door creaks open, and you hear the unmistakable sound of Rafe’s boots downstairs. 

You don’t hesitate. You scream, “Rafe, help!” 

Everything happens at once. The man who attacked you growls angrily, kicking you in your side and running toward the door. He runs into Rafe, who doesn’t even flinch. He punches the guy, or at least that’s what you think. You only see glimpses of motion visible from the beam of the flashlight. 

The guy falls to the ground, and the flashlight clatters and burns out. The room goes pitch black again and you can hear a struggle. Your mind races with the sounds and you tremble, clutching at your painful abdomen. 

It feels like an eternity. You hear thuds, groans and you find yourself trying to reach for the flashlight, struggling against your restraints. You have to move, adjusting with a pained groan. Your fingers brush against the cold metal of the flashlight, just barely out of reach. You try again, and as your fingers finally close around the handle, everything goes silent. 

You click the flashlight back on, turning the beam toward the two men. 

You see Rafe standing above the other man. He stares at his own hands like he doesn’t understand them. The other man is dead on the floor, his face swollen and his skin blue. 

The next few minutes are a blur. Rafe falls to his knees and crawls toward you, freeing you from your restraints. His pupils are wider than you’ve ever seen them and he tugs roughly on your arm. 

“Did he hurt you?” Rafe’s voice is thick and rough, and there’s a big part of you that feels relieved just hearing him speak. 

You nod and lift your shirt, showing him the slowly developing bruises across your ribcage. There’s a strange look on Rafe’s face and he tugs your shirt back down to hide the bruise from his vision. 

The two of you sit in heavy silence, and you unconsciously lean toward him in your trembling. Rafe doesn’t even move away. 

“Where were you?” You ask him, head resting on your knee but turned in his direction. 

Rafe’s eyes linger on the body of the man on the other side of the room. He will need to move it soon, you think. “Somewhere I shouldn’t have been.” Is his response after a while. 

He reaches out and places a hand against your shoulder. Maybe to prove to himself that you’re real, or that you’re still here. Or maybe just to ground himself. But you don’t move away.

“It was his chip bag.” Your voice sounds a bit muffled in your ears as you are finally able to begin to relax, muscles slowly easing from the tension and panic. 

“What?” 

“It was his chip bag, I was right.” You gesture to the now empty bag, identical to the one you’d found earlier this morning, laying next to the dead body of its owner. 

Something changes in Rafe’s expression, his eyes looking down for a moment. You watch him, your heart finally returning to a normal pace. 

“I’m sorry,” He chokes out, and despite everything that might be the most shocking part of the evening. You place your hand over his, and a loud clap of thunder has you both jumping. 

“I was scared you weren’t going to come back.” You admit quietly, and Rafe’s eyes meet yours again in the darkness, only illuminated by the beam of the flashlight.

He seems to hesitate for a while, “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Rafe-” You don’t get the chance to say anymore before he is speaking again. He looks at his hands and he looks at you, fingers brushing over the raw skin at your wrists. 

“I… I was stupid.” He admits, his voice thick with emotion and the next time his eyes are on yours there is something in them you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. “When I heard you scream like that, I was imagining what was happening up here and I…” 

“I’m okay,” You try to reassure him, but his jaw is clenched so tight you worry he might break a tooth. He takes your wrist in hand, thumb brushing the skin there again. The bedroom is silent for a long moment. 

His movement is so sudden, it makes you gasp. Before you can even register what is happening, Rafe is pulling you into his arms, strong biceps wrapped around your shoulders. Your heart pounds and you find yourself hugging him back. It brings a warm feeling to your gut and for the first time in several days you feel truly safe.

“Thank you for saving me,” You say, and Rafe tilts his head to rest against yours. This must have really scared him. 

“Don’t thank me.” His voice isn’t nearly as warm as his arms but you don’t mind. When he finally pulls back from you, he takes your hand. You hear him take in a breath, like he’s going to say something. Your heart beats in anticipation.

But when his words come, they aren’t the ones you’re expecting. Or wanting.

“Tomorrow we pack up and move.”

You groan loudly.

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© prettydaisygirl

[yey56]

Okay someone asked me how would Leith Pierre react in the universe in which Harley and reader get married and all of that so here it is.

I've lost the draft so I'm writing it all over again

LEITH PIERRES REACTION:

I believe Leith could have two reactions, the calm one, or the violent, yandere one.

He would not react well to being informed that Y/N got married to Sawyer

The calm one:

He wouldn't give up, of course, but will be a little more subtle about his liking to you since he knows neither you or Harley are stupid.

He would be very depressed for a while. Drinking more often would become a regular think and noticing small ways in which you were now tied to Sawyer like the matching rings you wore on your fingers.

His hostility towards Sawyer would become more evident, not caring to hide his hate for him more than necessary.

He would try to introduce subtle comments talking bad about Harley in front of YN but they will shut it up immediately.

Pierre would start the stalking, going to your shared apartment with the doctor at night and watching the lights until you turned them off.

He was in some kind of denial, he just couldn't accept that he didn't even had the chance to tell you his feelings and you had already married Sawyer.

I mean, sure there were rumors about you spending more time with him and Ludwig would constantly make jokes about the two of you but marriage? That was something he didn't expect.

For the time being, he just hoped that both your personalities would eventually get you separated because there was no way that two people as demanding as you both could last.

He became even more depressed when you in fact did last.

I think that calm Leith would wait and wait until any fights to try and get in between to no avail.

Still, his disappointment and depressed state didn't go unnoticed by some of his employees.

His dreams would become into nightmares and his sleeping schedule would become an absolute mess. Everyone was able to notice his eye bags and how his usual confident look turned into exhausted from one day to another

The violent one:

Leith wouldn't stay depressed for long, rage overtaking his senses. He could not accept he had lost you and even less to Harley Sawyer.

That's how he started scheming and manipulating. Highlighting Sawyers horrible character to others and encouraging the dislike for the doctor. Even though not everyone fell into that, there were some employees stubborn enough to pursue the active hate for the doctor.

At some point Leith would manage to gather some employees to ambush Sawyer and he would order Dr white to turn him into an experiment.

He knew he couldn't just get rid of Sawyer, sadly he needed his knowledge for the operations, that's why he turned him into one more experiment, so he could keep being useful even if there was the risk of you finding him.

The problem was the excuse he would give you once Harley stopped showing up. He was your husband, you sure would notice.

He made a story about how he was needed in boxy boos enclosure for some check up and he got tragically eaten.

Y/N wasn't dumb, that's why Leith wasn't surprised when they started asking questions about Harley not mentioning that check up or to watch the camera footage.

Pierre would take advantage of your vulnerable state. He hated you mourning Harley and working yourself to exhaustion because you were depressed.

He would try to get close to you, playing the role of the worried friend that was there for you. He just needed to be patient

If you didn't end up caving, he would become impatient and start being way more direct with you. Not so subtle any more.

Finally, you asked for space, claiming that you were uncomfortable and that you still mourned your husband.

Leith couldn't understand why you wasted your feeling on someone who was no longer there. Why Sawyer and not him?! Why?

If you couldn't see it yourself he would make you see it like he saw it.

After suddenly feeling a sting on your neck and falling to the ground, you woke up in a body you didn't recognise.

It was a doll that resembled you. Your hair, your eyes, your clothes... The only difference is that you were the size of a rag doll, perfect to fit into a kids hand.

You started panicking understanding your situation quickly but a voice stopped you on your tracks.

"Hello sweetheart, have you woken up already?" A hand took you and the giant face you saw belonged to leithe Pierre "I'm so glad everything went ok."

You were at a lost for words. Your whole body paralyzed, your mind racing and everything felt numb.

You could see Leith touching your new 'skin' and turning you to be informed of what seemed to be a computer monitor.

A single purple eye was the only image that showed the screen. Before you could say something, the computer talked first.

"What is this Leith? Get out!!!" You recognised that voice even if it was robotic, you knew that was Harley. You you understood everything, what Leith did to him, what he did to you.

"I just came to show you my beautiful doll Sawyer, aren't they just breathtaking" Leith squished your waist a little(the place from where he was holding you). A psychotic smile playing on the head of innovations face.

Harley looked closely, the doll looked terrifyingly alike his spouse. And when he saw the doll bling and their face contorting in a mix of anger and confusion, he understood. His screen started glitching as he screamed Leiths name and every other threat he could imagine.

Pierre only laughed and exited the room with you in his hands, where you were going to stay...

Heyyy thank you everyone for being so patient and for all of the motivation I've receive, its really encouraging to see that others like your writing.

I've had some ideas for the blog so I'll try to work on them as soon as I can. I got like two weeks full of exams and I'm so exhausted but reading that you like it makes me want to write more.

Have a wonderful week 😘

-Unedited fanfic-

[lostpiewrites]

HEYYY I LOVE UR ACC SHSUDJHSJSJXHCHCSIWKXCJC CAN U TELL IM SO ELATED TGAT I FOUND IT??!!!!! i have a req... So i have this scenario in mind where u and one of some bllk characters ( I have in mind Barou, Bachira, pre wc Kunigami bc hes such a sweetheart and i hope he gets better in the next chapters☹️☹️,maybe even gagamaru haha..., AND whoever u want to add IF U WANT) get in an argument (nothing heated, just a little him scolding u the other way around and it just keeps going) and in the heat of the moment he accidentally confesses (u both like each other) DJDJDDUJSJXJXD I RLLY LIKE THIS IDEA BUT I DONT RLLY KNOW HOW EACH WOJLD REACT?? LOVE U LOVE U TAKE CARE!!!! ヽ( 'ω' )ﾉ

a/n : YESYESYES I CAN TELLLLLL. AND THANK U FOR THE COMPLIMENTT ARRRGHHH ILY TOO. 🩵🩷And ofc i can write, here we gauuurrr~ art credits unknown , also none of the characters in the photo is in the context but i wanted to use it anyways because the photo is 🔥. Also for the context , i didn't make them openly say ily , but made them hint at it with closed words. Lastly , sorry for making you wait this much , i had no time to complete this earlier ; i had to erase gagamaru from the list because it would take me one more day. 😓

Will you just shut up ?

Ft : Barou Shoei , Bachira Meguru , Kunigami Rensuke.

Barou Shoei

He sat beside your bed , an unimpressed mom look on his face. You caught cold and had fever so you skipped school. He skipped the school aswell but it's because your dummass could NEVER succeed to take care of yourself properly. He called you if you would come today and once he heard how raspy your voice sounded , that was it for him. He was in your house , all ready to take care of you.

You were under the thick blanket facing the ceiling, with a package of ice sitting on your forehead. He was there from the start of the day and he knew what to do to take care of a sick person. But being a picky eater who hates healthy food, you felt overwhelmed. You yelled at him for making you eat until you are about to vomit.

"Barou , i have already told you that i can NOT physically handle one more bowl of soup. Do you really think i eat as much as you do ? Stop it would you!?"

"It's your fault you are like this to begin with. I am here skipping school because of you to take care of you and you are complaining ? Do you really think i don't know how much you eat ? Don't you act like you don't eat 3 fcking hamburger menus outside. I have been paying for your food remember ? Ofc ik how much you can eat."

It made you feel both guilty and embarrassed. Guilty that you are making him skip school and embarrassed that he is bringing how much you can eat when it's fast food. But you weren't gonna make him notice that embarrassment. So you kept your "angry" role at him and tried making him guilty.

"I am sick to death here and you are yelling at me ? And you are supposedly taking care of me. What about my emotions ?"

"Oh shut up. It's not like i like seeing you like this anyways. I am scolding you because you are being stupid and i hate how much i fucking miss that laughs-at-everything girl best i have and her idiotic babbles she annoys me with okay ? Now open your mouth."

You didn't open it , but opened your eyes instead. What did he just say ? That he liked your yapping and missed it when you were sick ? It basically was a confession coming from him. You blinked a few times , your blush being more visible at each. But then you smirked , ready to tease him.

"Don't you fcking dare say it. Seems like you are already healed if you can think of your usual stupid , annoying , random shenanigans. Now open your mouth and don't make me say it again."

You opened your mouth for him to feed you the soup. He was ordering you around now but you somehow liked it. You felt giddy and was glad that the blanket was thick enough to cover you kicking and wiggling your feet. Who would say to you that falling in love with your boy bestie would end up like this ? No one. But it felt good to know that the feeling you have held inside for so long for the sake of your friendship are reciprocated. And it helped your healing process by a lot.

Bachira Meguru

You two stood at the entrance to the principal's office. He found himself here again because of his endless pranks around the school. But this time he dragged you too , even tho it was unintentional and all the thing you did was to warn him to stop.

He looked down at his feet ashamedly. If he was alone , he wouldn't care less but now that you are sitting there with him , he felt guilty. And your piercings and accusing glares didn't really help the situation either. You two were punished with detention , nothing too grand at least in his opinion.

After the classes ended , you settled down onto the desk and boredly looked out of window. You were now about to go through a 1.5 hours of detention , and worse you had nothing to study and you didn't even bring a reading book because you would go to shopping after school. So you would just sit down and watch the scenery.

"I have so much better things to do but here i am sitting in a detention because of you , Bachibee. The least you could do was to just fcking sit down properly for JUST ONE period."

"How the hell am i supposed to know that they would punish you with me too ? It's your fault for trying to stop me anyways. Not only you ruined the fun and got me caught , you are now blaming me for what happened. You could have just let me do whatever and you wouldn't be suffering here rn. Karma."

You bit your inner cheek in frustration. You wanted to stop him because whatever he tried was dangerous to do. He was under the influence of his bad friends and would harm himself in the end. But this moron wouldn't understand it. So you kept quiet , not trying to explain yourself further.

"Listen. Don't bother what i said previously. I knew it was dangerous and i understand why you stopped me. But i am sorry that you got dragged with me. Take this ?"

He offered a few snacks as a peace treaty. He didn't know what else to say anymore. He was usually alone here at the detention and didn't really talk to anybody during. But then he blurted out sth that made you wanna go hide your blush. He himself also looked like he also didn't mean to say it and it just slipped out while he was thinking out loud , causing him to blush with you.

"Yk things are more enjoyable with you around , even sth as stupid as a detention. I would like to spend time with you more , probably not here but yeah..."

You chuckled at his offer. Did you just got asked out by your bestie ? Yes. Did you accept it ? Also yes. And that detention turned out to be sth you liked in the end and not despised.

Kunigami Rensuke

You tried. You tried your best to focus on your studies. Not that you did have sth in your mind but the topics were so hard that you kept getting bored and out of focus. You had your bestie , Kunigami , beside you and poor boy has been struggling with your lack of enthusiasm for the past few hours.

You had an exam tomorrow and you knew you had to study. But it was physics and you would rather die than to keep studying.

"Rennn-kuunnn. How about we stop for a little bit ? My head hurts i can't focus ?"

He sighed and bit down on his lips to not curse your entire existence and family line. Was he successful ? Nope.

"Listen y/n. I have been trying to explain things to you instead of studying myself and we couldn't even finish the first topic. THE FUCKING FIRST ONE. We had given a break just about 30 mins ago. Can't you at least put some effort in learning ?"

His words stung , because it was the truth. You weren't purposedly trying to make him busy with you but you didn't wanna accept your fault too.

"You were the one who suggested to help me with my studies. And you are the ond complaining now ? If you didn't have time , why did you offer it in the first place ?"

He sighed again , the type that made you regret everything you have said and wanna go hide in shame.

"y/n , my stupid bestie. I don't wanna see you fail and get upset like always okay ? You look terrible when you ugly cry after a failed exam. Besides , I always have time for you. But it looks like i am putting in more effort than you are. That's what makes me mad."

Nothing he said mattered afterwards. "I have time for you always." That's what will be stuck in your mind for the rest of the studying session now. He didn't probably put in effort for his sentence but he did confess , unintentionally. You looked at him with a small shy but lovestruck expression. Afterall , even tho the exam is tomorrow the studying can wait right ?

[cupcait777]

about you 𓏲 ๋࣭   ࣪ ˖ the 1975

you met sophie thatcher when you were both fourteen.

she's this messy, brilliant storm of a girl — all wild hair and bad jokes, barely able to stand still long enough to read her lines at auditions. you’re calmer, quieter. you tell yourself you’re just being supportive, just helping her run scenes, just being a good friend.

but the truth is, you're already falling.

you fall in the way you glance too long when she laughs. you fall in the way your heart stumbles every time she texts you, 'come over.' you fall in the way your world starts to quietly rearrange itself around her without you even noticing.

it takes a year before either of you is brave enough to say it. you're eighteen, standing outside a cheap diner, breathing in cold air and trembling hope. sophie kisses you, soft and uncertain, and the world tilts on its axis.

you date for six years.

six years of growing up, side by side. shared keys. shared grocery lists. shared dreams whispered half-asleep under tangled blankets.

six years of your favorite songs playing through tiny car speakers at midnight. six years of loving her in a way that feels like breathing.

you thought you’d keep finding your way back to each other, no matter what. you thought nothing could touch you.

but life — life had other plans.

when sophie gets the london project, you tell her to go. you tell her not to worry, that six months isn't forever.

you both believe it, at first.

for three months, you make it work. video calls. long, sleepy texts. care packages mailed across the ocean.

but the fourth month comes with a slow, sickening shift. the distance grows teeth. the calls turn brittle. the silences stretch longer.

you try to be understanding. you try to stay patient. but late at night, curled up alone in your too-big bed, you start to wonder if she’s already building a life without you.

the night it all falls apart, it’s raining.

you call her. she's busy. again.

one word leads to another — sharp, angry, exhausted words you can’t take back. you ask her when she's coming home. she says she doesn't know. she says, "i can't make promises i might break."

and that — that’s the final crack.

you end the call. you block her number. no explanation. no closure. just silence.

because some goodbyes aren’t spoken — they’re lived.

you move on. or at least, you try.

you don’t hate her. you could never hate her. but loving her had started to feel like holding onto smoke — beautiful, but impossible.

some nights, you still think about her. about the promises you made. about the life you almost had.

you don't regret it. you treasure it, even now. even when it hurts.

two years later, you visit london.

not for sophie. not even thinking about sophie.

you’re just wandering the city, ducking into coffee shops, breathing in the unfamiliar streets, trying to find pieces of yourself in a place that’s never known you.

and then —

you bump into someone.

you look up, ready to mutter an apology — and it’s her. sophie.

older. a little different. but still, unmistakably her. still sophie, like a song you thought you'd forgotten until the first chord plays and your heart shatters open again.

for a second, neither of you says anything. you just stand there, stunned, as the world rushes past you.

her mouth opens, closes. you see it in her eyes — the same flood of memories, the same ache.

she whispers, "hey." soft. careful. like the wrong word might break you both apart again.

you don't know what to say. you don’t know if you’re supposed to say anything.

because you’re not who you used to be. and maybe... neither is she.

but for a heartbeat, you’re seventeen again, standing outside that diner, trembling with hope.

and for a heartbeat, you realize: you never really stopped loving her. you just learned how to live without her.