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fanficsformyfaves · 3 months

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I Don't Wanna Live Forever Pt.2

Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader (Pt.1)

WARNING: ANGST, Depressive Episode, Harassment, Bar Fight, Violence, Confrontation, Confessions, Hurt to Comfort

PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit

A/N: Special Appearance by The Judgment Day!

Shed a couple tears over this, but it's cool

The radio silence was unbearable. It had been weeks and with each day that passed, I began to regret what I did more and more. If I'd truly done the right thing, why didn't it feel like it? Why did it feel like I'd just lost a part of myself losing her? I had only myself to blame, so it was unfair of me to be angry at her, but I was.

I was angry at the longing stares and the gentle caresses against my bare skin. I was angry at the inside jokes and little secrets that were shared beneath her sheets. I was angry at all the nights we spent in each others arms. All the things that got me in this mess in the first place, but most of all...I was angry at myself.

Angry that I was too much of a coward to tell her that her feelings were in fact reciprocated.

With where my head was at and how devasting everything was, I decided to completely resign from the service that was using me. In no world could I imagine continuing to be in other peoples beds, when all I wanted was to be in hers. Out of every low point I'd hit before, this was by far the worst one.

I could barely get out of bed without tears immediately streaming down my face. Days felt empty and nights felt suffocating like my body knew something was missing. Even simple tasks like eating and breathing had now become burdensome.

I didn't know whether or not I'd make it out of this one, but by some miracle, I was met with a chance at starting over.

An old friend of mine that used to work with me in the same service recently reached out upon hearing about my departure from one of the other girls. I found out, shortly after leaving, that she got a job at a bar closer to the city and that they were hiring new drink-runners. The pay was decent and I needed something to keep me busy, so of course, I said yes to being interviewed.

I sent in my resume, went in on Monday and the next morning, I got a call saying I was hired, which brings us to right now.

The night started of fine with me just serving the drinks and food, when I heard the bell signaling someone came in. It was a group of obnoxiously loud men that immediately had me and my friend rolling our eyes. I picked up some menus and reluctantly headed over to the table they chose.

"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,

Placing down the laminated papers.

"No fucking way!", I heard one of them exclaim,

And when I turn to see who it was, my heart dropped. It was a guy that I previously serviced.

"Yes?", I asked,

Playing clueless.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you don't recognize me...or the fun little night we had"

I could tell by the way he slurred his words that he was incredibly drunk. His group immediately began snickering and raking their eyes up and down my body.

"I'm sorry, sir. You must be thinking of someone else"

"Nah, I'd recognize those tits anywhere", he declared,

Causing 'oohs' to echo from the table.

I held my composure and took a deep breath through my nose.

"Excuse me, gentlemen", I said,

Walking away and heading back to the bar.

"What's up?", my friend asked,

Seeing the irritated expression on my face.

"Old clients at table 6"

"Ugh, again? Do they not have jobs? They're here every night"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, you haven't been scheduled past 8 yet, so you were lucky enough not to run into them", she explained,

"Well, I guess I'm shit outta luck now", I joked.

And as if the universe couldn't have had worse timing, another group walks in and the sinking feeling in my chest had now become a burning sting.

"Wait, isn't that-"

Before my friend could get her words out, I immediately hid in the kitchen. I hear her calling out to me as I left, but didn't bother turning back to look.

Out of any place on earth and out of any bar, she just had to show up at the one that I work at? This had to have been some sick joke. What was I meant to do now? It's not like I could just leave and risk getting in trouble on my second week.

I stayed still a few minutes to recollect myself and once I was successful, I take in one last deep breath, before heading back out.

"You've got this", my friend reassured,

Handing me four menus.

I made my way towards her table and the closer I got, the harder it became for the both of us to ignore the other's gaze.

"Welcome, what can I get started for you guys?", I say,

Putting on my best customer service voice.

"I'll take chicken tenders", the one with the mullet answered,

"We both want steaks, medium rare", the tallest added on,

As I jotted down their orders.

"Alright and...for you, miss?", I asked,

The hesitance in my voice giving my nerves away.

"Just some gin for now", she answered,

Avoiding eye contact.

As painful as it was, I decided against asking any further questions at the risk of making things any more uncomfortable.

"Those should be right out", I nod my head,

Walking off, but as I was headed towards the serving hatch to put the orders in, I felt a hand grab my wrist.

"What time do you get off?", the asshole from earlier questioned,

Causing me to rip my arm away.

"Excuse you", I scolded,

Going to turn away, when he grabbed me by the arm next. I could feel the panic start to set in and my eyes start to water.

"Get off, seriously", my words trembled,

"Oh, what? Does the slut think she's too good for m-", his sentence was cut short by a tissue holder hitting the back of his head,

Causing him to fall over.

"She said get off", Rhea warned through gritted teeth,

"Handle this, I'm taking her home", she ordered her friends,

They all turn to each other smirking, before sauntering over to the table full of the guy's friends. They all immediately took off, leaving him behind to fend for himself.

"Come on", she urged,

"My shift isn't over", I shakily muttered,

She sighed, taking out her wallet.

"Dom, make sure to let the manager knows what happened and that (Y/N) went home", she instructed,

Pulling out a couple hundreds, before dropping them on the table.

"You got it, mami", he said,

Picking up the guy and dragging him outside with the help of the other two men.

"Wait, what are they-"

"Doesn't matter. Come on", she throws an arm over my shoulder,

Leading me outside and helping me into her car. The last thing I saw before driving off was the three men completely pummeling the guy into a pulp. Not to say he didn't deserve it, but, I still couldn't help but feel uneasy.

The car ride wasn't much help either. Besides the quite hum that came from the engine and the passing cars, it was mostly silent. She must've noticed, as her hand gently gripped my knee in an attempt to calm me down.

"Are you hurt?", she finally spoke,

"My arm's sore", I answered hesitantly,

Causing her to let out a shaky exhale through her nose.

He did yank me pretty hard, so I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up to a handprint on me.

"We're almost at mine", she lets me know.

As if I didn't already recognize the street we were on. I mean I'd been down this road too many times not to.

"We're here"

She pulls into her driveway and gets out to open my door for me. She then leads me into the house, urging me to take a seat on the sofa.

"I'll get an icebag. Wait, here"

"It's fine-"

Before I could object, she had already left the living room.

The tension was so apparent, I felt it in my bones. She was cold and guarded, but I had no right to fault her for it. I was the one who ended things and now, I had to lay in the bed I made.

She returns with the ice and lifts my sleeve to press it against the bruise, causing me to wince at the ache.

"Who was that guy, anyways?", she questioned,

"An old client. I don't work there anymore though"

For the first time this whole evening, her eyes finally met mine.

"What?"

"I quit last month. I couldn't do it anymore", I admitted,

As her gaze softened.

"Why?"

"It's not important", I tried to brush off,

"(Y/N)"

"It doesn't matter-"

"(Y/N)", she called sternly,

Causing tears to prick at my eyes.

"Did someone hurt you?"

"No-"

"Then what?"

What was I meant to say? That I was the cause of my own hurting? That I left the only life I'd known because someone showed me that I deserved better than that? That that person was her?

"Then...what?", she pressed further.

With a single tear rolling down my cheek, I finally confessed.

"Because of you", my voice waivered.

Her eyes widened, as she slowly put the icepack down.

"Since the last time we spoke, I've been going through the worst time"

A tear rolled down my cheek and my entire body began to chill. Her brows met in a sadness that was too deep to describe.

“I thought I could get over it, but I couldn’t have been more wrong and it didn’t hit me till I left your house”

“Then why did you?”

“I…”

It was as if all the words were caught in my throat with no way out.

What was I meant to say? What could I say? Anything I thought of wouldn��t excuse the way I’d walked out on her. I would be lucky if she could’ve even look me in the eyes again, much less forgive me.

“I was a coward”

She shakes her head, averting her gaze down to her lap.

“So much so that it made me lose you”

I hear a sigh and I couldn’t decipher whether she was disappointed or annoyed.

“I should’ve stayed. I should’ve given this a fighting chance. It was unfair, cruel and undeserved. You were the first person to show me kindness and it scared me. I didn't know how to receive that kind of care and I know that isn't an excuse, but that was the reason and I can't tell you how sorry I am"

The silence was the most painful part. It sent knives straight through my chest and there was nothing I could do to alleviate that burn.

“I understand if you want me to leave. I deserve that”, I sobbed,

Picking at the lose thread on my uniform, when she takes my hand.

“I don’t want that”, she finally spoke,

"You leaving did hurt me and it was something that I thought I'd be angry for, but...I wasn't. I was sad. Sad because I thought you didn't care for me the way I cared for you. You were my favorite part of every single waking moment. Your laugh, your smile, the way you talk, the heart you have, I've never seen anything like it"

I felt every piece of me break with each word.

"This whole time, that's all I could think about. That you didn't feel the same", she continued,

Gathering her own tears now.

"Rhea", I muttered,

Taking her face into my hands.

"You don't understand how much I love you"

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett

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jiejies-corner-store · 6 months

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THE AVENTURINE FIC 😭😭 OH GOSH IM CRYING 😭😭

i’m so sorry, anon! here this should make it up 😭😭 the devil knows you're dead

pairing. aventurine x reader

tags/tw: fem!reader, references to a complicated childbirth, mother!reader, father!aventurine, spoilers to aventurine's real name, spoilers in reference to 2.1 trailblaze questline, aventurine’s nihilism and depression, references to death, hurt/comfort, ooc aventurine probably, i make shit up at the end because i want a happy ending—bite me.

sfw

a/n: ouchie. i finished 2.1 and it hurt. it hurt a lot. the ost for the “all the sad tales” is genuinely so beautiful. the trumpet just feels so melancholy yet hopeful it just goes so perfectly with aventurine’s story. but i need something that feels good now. ABSOLUTELY NOT PROOF-READ pt. 1

“As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.”

It was cold. Cold and warm. Almost feverish feeling. The type of feeling you’d get when you were freezing but your skin was hot to the touch. There was this frustrating beeping noise somewhere off in the distance that you just couldn’t tune out, finally you opened your eyes to see a sea of darkness, and seemingly at an unreachable horizon, a large circle of white light that looked like a gate.

“You’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice came from beside you. How you didn’t realize there was a whole person standing next to you, you had no clue.

“Well, that’s not originally what I was going for, but now I’m a bit worried I might be,” you laughed, nervous, but curious all the same. This… person you couldn’t quite make out an exact face, or even a body for that matter, but ther was this distinct feeling that it was in fact a person. Like your instinct knew, but your brain couldn’t quite fill in the details.

“This is a place beyond mortal comprehension, if I tried to explain it to you, you would only be more confused. Walk with me,” the entity said, and without even willing your body to do so, you followed. Ripples emanated from each step as you followed and soon the inky void around you melted into an unfamiliar planet.

The sky was a deep purple, streaked with red that looked like lighting that crackled along the sky. Instead of the fluid, black ground, sand now shifted as you moved foward. Inside a small hut made of rock, you saw a woman cradling a swaddled child.

“Such a lucky child, such a blessed child… Just like your name. A gift from THEM to Avgin… my boy…”

You turned to the figure beside you and hesitantly asked, “Where are we?”

“A land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears,” the entity responded cryptically, which only caused a crease in your brow. You went closer to the mother in the hut and sat next to her. She whispered a blessing onto her child, but none of the words made sense to your ears. Similar to the entity, it’s like your brain scrambled them from your understanding.

The mother cried. You tried to wrap your arms around her to comfort her but only phased through her like a ghost. The baby too began to cry.

Then, the scene changed again, suddenly it was a cell with iron bars. A blond young man sat next to you. The blond’s gaze was downturned, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“—Thirty tanba… that’s all my life is worth.”

“That’s not…” you said, but realized it was all in vain. You tried again to take Kakavasha’s hands into your own. You wantd to take the cuffs off his wrists and cradle where the skin was rubbed raw.

“It's all or nothing…”

“Kakav—agh!”

Your future never existed You█ future never existed You█ future ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er ████ted You█ fut███ █e█er ████ted Yo██ ██████ █e█er ████ted

Your mind felt clouded, a searing headache, followed by an inability to even pin down a coherent thought. The scene shifted once more.

“What’s going on!” you shouted at the figure that stood only silently next to you, crippled on the ground, clutching at your head, fingers pressing in to try to find the spot that would alleviate this awful pressure.

When your senses were no longer blinded by pain, you were back to that inky void you started in, but this time you weren’t alone. Not far away, maybe twenty feet or so, was your Kakavasha, and a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Why are we born into this world if it's just to die?”

You stumbled to your feet to try to run to him, but with each step closer he only got further away. He walked towards that gate of light. In your head, you heart was pounding faster and faster. You failed to catch up to him. He only got further and further away until he disappeared like fireflies dispersing into the night, “Kakavasha! No—!”

Utterly devastated, you sunk back onto your knees. You didn’t know why but you had this distinct feeling of loss. Tears rolled from your eyes freely. He… he wasn’t gone surely? The entity’s presence reappeared next to you.

“Why did you show me all of this,” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted an answer.

“Because you need to go back,” the entity answered and your jaw locked, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt.

You screamed into the void, “You’re the one who brought me here!”

“I never call anyone to me… you mortals believe that it is US that determine when your time to go is… but in truth it is your own doing, whether it is your body or your mind that gives up first,” the entity said, “It is only the strength of your will that will allow you to continue down your destined path… but many give up on that path and someone else must be chosen.”

“What does this have to do with me,” you snapped. “Why are you meddling in my life? What does Kakavasha have to do with this?”

“Kakavasha still has a long road ahead of him. I have supplemented his journey all his life. It was only recently he was able to live on his own will,” said the entity ”Your body is giving up. I do not have the power anymore to keep him alive. That lies with you.”

Your surroundings melted again. You were in a hospital room and on the bed was you. Eyes closed and steadily breathing, but your heartbeat was weak. The annoying beeping from before was louder and more prominent.

“You wanted to help him. During his past, you reached out each time. There is nothing you can do about that now, but the future and the present… you still have a choice.”

Laying a hand on your unmoving body, there was a slight resistance, but with just a bit more pressure you felt as if you could phase through it entirely.

“What do I need to do,” you asked the entity.

“Live.”

You furrowed your brow at that. Of course you wanted to live… right? The entity gestured for your hand, you obliged. Against your palm was an oddly soft feeling. Warm. Like a mother’s touch against your’s. Your palms pressed together, the entity spoke,

“May the goddess Gaiathra close HER eyes three times… Keep your blood eternally pulsing… Let your journey be forever peaceful… …and your schemes forever concealed."

You lifted your head and your “body” began to disappear similar to how Kakavasha disappeared. Just before you disappeared into sparks of golden light, you had the sense about you to ask:

“Who are you?” you felt like you were shouting, but your voice was quiet.

“You could call me Fenge Biyos.”

You opened your eyes with a deep gasp for air. Your surroundings were blurry, and you rubbed at your eyes, only to realize Kakavasha was up, standing next to your hospital bed with an anxious expression, hands already grasping the one that was wiping crust from your eyes.

“You’re awake,” he choked out, holding you as if you would break, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I did this to you that I—”

“Kakavasha, slow down, what… why are you—no, don’t be sorry,” you finally found your words, sitting foward on the bed to wrap your arms around him. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what was going on. Your mind was still foggy, but finally that haze disappated and you remembered everything leading up to now.

“Kakavasha~” you hummed in a song-like tone, a small wrapped box with a blue and purple bow tied around it. You skipped over to his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders where he sat, and placed the gift in front of him, laying your head on his shoulder as your arms tightly hugged him. “I have a surprise.”

He smiled with a small laugh, “Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?” He pecked a kiss onto your check before pulling the bow off and opening the lid of the box, when he froze.

The smile on your face faltered bit when he didn’t say anything after a bit. The corners of it tightened into a more forced position, “Kakavasha? You’re gonna be a papa…”

The joy in his face from earlier had completely vanished. Only replaced by a stony, cold, poker face. He pushed his chair back and you stumbled into the wall behind. He gave you a tight smile and kissed your forehead before heading for the door and grabbing his hat. “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you at a loss as you fell into his chair, feeling suddenly so very empty in this large office alone.

He came back after that, apologetic for leaving you, but nothing felt truly right. He continued to reassure you that he did want to have this child, but it was a strenous time. The entire pregnancy was stressful. The doctors warned you that the level of stress you were under put you at risk for a premature birth, but you brushed them off. It was just the hormones, you were sure. Kakavasha still loved you. The ring on your finger should’ve been proof enough of that.

“How about the name Ilyas?” you suggested, laying your head on Kakavasha’s lap, “I was… looking at some databases about Avgin names and I thought that one was nice. What do you think?”

Aventurine hummed, but his mind seemed elsewhere. You let it go.

The next few months continued on in similar fashion.

But it all came to a head.

The two of you were standing in the kitchen. It had started off small. The hormones and the stress were getting to you. It was an off hand comment about him not fixing dinner, and you were tired and hungry from carrying around his child.

From there it had escalated. It turned into you were tired of feeling like you were walking on eggshells when you talked about the pregnancy. About how he was barely around for the appointments, and when he was he seemd emotionally distant… finally he exploded

“I never asked for this!” he shouted. “When did I ever say I wanted to be a father? Did you even ask me? Did you think about what I felt about this whole thing at all?”

You paused, feeling tears well up in your throat as a white-hot fear flashed through your body. You laughed, a hollow sound, “I’m sorry, Aventurine, I thought it took two people to make a baby? And you certainly made no attempt to use protection.”

He didn’t have anything to say about that. Even though the argument seemed over, you felt a nauseous feeling crawling up in your throat. Your tears felt like acid burning through your skin. Then a pain in your stomach. Your knees gave out and the last thing you remember was the scared expression on Kakavasha’s face before it all went dark.

“I was scared…. I was so scared that bringing another Avgin into this world would only bring misfortune onto you… that Gaiathra Triclops would take you from our child, just like my mother was taken from me,” he openly cried into your shoulder. “I took it out on you. I made something that should’ve been a beautiful experience something that was awful, and I understand… if you never forgive me for that but please…. please don’t leave.”

Now you were crying with him, one hand tangled in his blond locks and the other rubbing his back. Quietly, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “I can’t lose you too.”

You thought for a long time. In front of you wasn’t one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC. Not a calculating or cunning man, who’s only interest was in things that benefited the IPC’s bank accounts. In front of you was a broken man, who’d had everything stripped away from him when he was only a child. Who was shattered and forced to put his life back together with nothing but fear and anxiety as glue.

Did it excuse what he'd broken?

No.

“I’m here… I won’t leave Kakavasha,”

But maybe with time and effort, you could help re-glue each other with something a little more beautiful.

“Ilyas! Don’t run so far!” you called after a small blond haired child who was already ahead of you by a longshot, you turned exasperatedly to your husband, “Honey, can you go after him please? I don’t want him to get trampled by some idiot who’s not paying attention…”

The man only smiled at you, one hand firmly wrapped around your ever expanding waist, “It’s okay. There’s some of my squad that’s following him incognito. He won’t get out of our sights without them dragging him back. We can let him get his energy out. He’ll be cooped up in a hospital soon.”

You huffed conceded. Already tired from just getting through the theme park’s entrance. You were due in about two weeks, but Kakavasha was insistent that a week before you’d be under hospital supervision until you brought your second child into the world. It had taken about five years before the two of you had healed enough and there were roadbumps along the way… but you were both ready to give Ilyas a little sister.

But for now, the two of you wanted to let Ilyas have one more day as an only child. The reconstructed Penacony was nothing like the Dreamscape of the past. Fear and secrets no longer were trapped in the gilded cage of the former prison planet. With the help of the IPC and the Harmony, New Penacony was entirely real. No more dreams, just reality. They’d kept many of their old franchises and built a true theme park.

“Mama!! Picture! Let’s get a picture here before we go in!” Ilyas screeched, pointing at Clockie statue in front of the Clock Studios main attraction. You set a hand on Kakavasha’s arm, glancing up at him to try to get a read on what he was feeling. He’d let you in on the parts of his past that he’d kept a secret. The scheme behind Penacony, his proposed “death” and his encounter with his Past and Future.

He took a breathe and looked back down at you, giving you a smile that said “I’m okay” and relief flooded your bones. After walking you over in front of the camera, he crouched down and scooped Ilyas into his arms.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked and you nodded. After a brief countdown the camera flashed, and for a moment in that bright light, you saw the hopeful future that lied ahead.

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #aventurine x you #hsr 2.1 #penacony

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highly-important · 2 years

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Little Art things I'm obsessed with pt 1

Portraits of absent figures:

David Hockney - A Bigger Splash, 1967

Hockney originally visited California in 1963 and was won over by the sunlight and laid-back lifestyle, especially the luxury and ubiquity of the swimming pool. He described it as his "promised land" The splash is about freezing a moment in time, but it is also empty of human presence but implying a human. The male figure is present in some of David's other works from this time period, especially his muse and then-partner Peter Schlesinger. These paintings are about a hedonistic gay lifestyle, and the swimmers, the divers, are often the subject of voyeurism and desire. But in this painting, we just missed the diver, which makes the object of desire more private and personal. Who was the painter looking at, lusting after, etc. I like the contrast of the incredibly sharp and graphic suburban neighborhood, and the chaotic, organic splash. So again, if the divers represent this homosexual desire, we have this contrast of an orderly heterosexual world, and the queerness that joyfully disrupts it.

And then of course, with the absent figure, there is this massive sense of loss and loneliness. And so much of loneliness is about concealment, hiding in shame. This is a private space, but its also an exposed space, enhancing the loneliness. The figure is isolated, alone, invisible. Its a sadness that contrasts with the setting, the activity, and saturated lighting.

Felix Gonzalez-Torres - Untitled (billboard of an empty bed), 1991

These billboards were exhibited in the streets of Manhattan during the AIDS crisis. This piece was created the same year Felix Gonzalez-Torres's boyfriend Ross died. This portrait is a celebration of love and a memorization of loss and the emotions between intimacy and publicity. In the artist's own words:

“What I’m trying to say is that we cannot give the powers that be what they want, what they are expecting from us. Some homophobic senator is going to have a very hard time trying to explain to his constituency that my work is homoerotic or pornographic, but if I were to do a performance with HIV blood — that’s what he wants, that’s what the rags expect because they can sensationalize that, and that’s what’s disappointing. Some of the work I make is more effective because it’s more dangerous. We both make work that looks like something else but it’s not that. We’re infiltrating that look.“

The work intentionally uses the matching, identical depressions to imply a same-sex couple. The image itself is extremely intimate, but its being displayed in public spaces.

Felix Gonzales-Torres became known for his absent bodies.

And then, a little different, this painting by Jacques Guillaume Lucien Amans (1837) commissioned by Frederick and and Coralie Frey, depicts the three Frey children, with the faint shadow of a figure. There was a legend that there was a fourth figure in this painting. In 2005 a private collector, Jeremy K Simien, purchased the painting and it underwent conservation.

The painting revealed Bélizaire, a fifteen year-old enslaved domestic owned by the children's father. The picture captures the complex relationship between the boy and the children, the family that was keeping him captive. For one thing, the way he is set back from the others. There is this sort of intimacy between them along side the psychological trauma of forced bondage.

Here is a great Tiktok about the painting, to quote "What I'm struck by is what a sensitive portrait this is of this young man who was living in an inhumane society where he, despite being a human being, was bought and sold."

A few years after this painting was created, the three Frey children died, and Bélizaire was the only one who survived into adulthood.

The painting stayed in the Frey family. At some point, likely in the late 19th or 20th century, Bélizaire was intentionally painted over. In 1972, the great-granddaughter of Coralie Frey donated the painting to a Louisiana museum, informing them that a figure was painted over. During the course of the painting's life at the museum, no effort was put into restoring the figure.

Jeremy Simien's, who bought and restored this painting, said on his instagram "Bélizaire, they know your name now. Tell the ancestors to let me sleep for a minute."

And shout out to the picture that make me want to write this, Hyde Park Flowers, London by Tumblr user @kimironside I won't re-post it so check out the link.

#art #art history #felix gonzalez torres #belizaire #david hockney #Jacques Guillaume Lucien Amans #Jacques Amans #Jeremy K Simien #tw slavery #tw aids

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orgasming-caterpillar · 6 months

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Mahabharat characaters on Social Media: pt. 3

Pt. 2

Dhritarashtra

Boomer

Does not know what social media is used for

Only social media he uses is Facebook and WhatsApp

Sends 👌 and 👍 in response to everything

Old as fuck and partially blind

Thinks Duryodhan is gonna join the army since he's training so much (he won't, he just likes to have muscles and challenge bheem)

Gandhari

"A day in my life as a selectively blind person"

BLINDFOLD CHALLENGES LMFAOOOOOO

Here's ten reasons why I've never seen my children's faces

1. Judging from my husband's personality and... other things, they're probably ugly

Cutu cutu mom-daughter vlogs with dushala

Pandu

He's dead.

Don't ask me for anything he's just dead in this au that's all he is

Used to cameo on madri's channel a suspiciously large amount of time

Kunti

Wholesome cooking channel

With stories in the voiceovers

Does livestreams teaching people to cook

Internet mom for many teenagers countrywide

Randomly drops insane mom lore in the middle of cooking

"There was this one time I had to put my newborn kid up for adoption because I was 17 at the time and now he's adopted by a neighbour and also my nephew's boyfriend so if any of you know a good therapist please recommend."

Madri

Used to be on twitter only but she overshared too much and had to be making insanely long apology videos over it

Does QNAs only and people watch that just cuz she's such a problematic cunt

"Madri you said in one post that you were married but you've never mentioned your husband." "Madri you made posts about post partum depression but you never mentioned your kids."

Replies to this with a video explaining how she was having an affair with a certain influencer's husband and got pregnant with twins but then the guy died of a heart attack so she left his SINGLE MOTHER wife with two more sons

The people hate her for what she's done. She loves them for the clout they give her.

Vidur

He doesn't do social media. He does what people call "A Job".

Only on Facebook. Only there to bunk people who spread misinformation.

Also now on ao3

#star plus mahabharat #mahabharat #mahabharata #incorrect mahabharat quotes #mahabharat memes #incorrect hindu mythology #hindu memes #hindu epics #hindu mythology memes #starbharat

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kasagia · 10 months

Text

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.

You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.

You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.

"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.

"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."

"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"

You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."

"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."

Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.

"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.

"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.

"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."

"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.

Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.

"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.

"What happened to them?"

You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.

"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."

"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.

He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.

"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."

"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.

The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.

"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.

You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.

"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.

"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."

He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.

You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.

The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.

"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"

He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...

"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."

"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?

"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.

"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.

He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.

"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."

"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.

"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."

"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.

He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."

"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."

"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."

"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.

"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."

You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.

"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.

He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.

"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.

He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.

"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.

"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.

But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.

He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.

"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"

"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.

"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.

If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.

But you were his Y/N.

It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.

"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.

He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.

He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.

"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?

He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.

"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.

"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."

"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.

He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.

The past is a wound that cannot be healed.

"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."

"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.

Men are greedy creatures.

But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?

He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.

"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.

"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."

You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.

The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.

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main-character0 · 6 months

Text

"I’m Better, huh?” [Pt. 1]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Seo Changbin x fem! reader (poc-coded)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ After your boyfriend of 7 months cheats on you for the second time, you ask his best friend to pick you up from the club. Little does he know, Changbin was the one you wanted all along.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ warnings: No uses of (Y/N), cursing, implied drinking, cheating (since they never really broke up lol), angst, mention of murder (IT NEVER HAPPENS), please lmk if I missed anything!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ a.n: I'm SO EXCITED to finally post this!?!?!?!? Part two will be up when the depression subsides and I start to write again lmao. also minors DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ wc: 2.4k (2,429)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ smut warnings: none for this part!!! only making out ig??? and being naked in a shower.... you'll see ;)

“Binnie, where are you?” You groan into the phone pressed against your ear. You rub your other arm with your free hand, finally feeling the frosty air biting into your exposed skin. You rub your thighs to at least create some friction for warmth. You can see a cloud of air escaping your mouth as you sigh into the speaker of your device.

“I’m turning into the parking lot now. Do you see me?” Changbin’s voice rings through your ear, his words giving you the hint you need to look for his car now. You see the headlights before you see the sleek noir Camaro pull up to the front door of the club. You rush down the concrete stairs as fast as you can in your black one-inch heels. Changbin is already out of the car and opening the door for you.

You ungracefully clamber into the car, pulling your tight skirt down to cover more of your thighs. You observe that Changbin’s gaze rakes over your thighs once, twice before he closes the door and walks around the car. He raises a hand to the bouncer, and the man dressed in a suit returns the gesture.

Once Changbin enters the car, he shakes his head playfully, turning his head toward you. A smile plays along his lips as he fastens his seatbelt. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend’s girlfriend.” He tells you, exiting the parking lot. You watch his hands as he turned on his signal to make a right turn. “You should be saying, ‘you’re lucky we’re friends.’” You giggle, covering your mouth with a manicured hand.

He glances over at you before smirking. “I- “

Ding, ding, ding!

A beeping noise startles the both of you, and he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Put on your seatbelt, bunny.” He commands, nodding his head toward your seatbelt. You scramble to put it on, and as the seatbelt clicks in place, you look at the man escorting you home. Your eyes turn soft as you explore his side profile with your eyes. Yet, you can’t help it as your gaze starts to trail over his arms, his pecs, his hands. Your mind starts to wander, as you imagine his pinning you up against the wall, kissing you harshly with those plush lips of his, holding your hands above your head with one large hand.

“You good?” Broke you away from your R-rated thoughts very quickly. You blink twice before nodding. “Just zoned out.” You explain. Changbin nods. You return your gaze to the road in front of you, watching as artificial lights blur together. Then, you see it. A singular drop turns into many, and they rush down the window, some merging together. In a way, it represents your relationship with your boyfriend.

One tear turns into one more, with you convincing yourself it’ll be over soon. But it never ends. They keep coming, so many of them dropping that they seem to blend, losing track of how many have fallen by now. It’s like the sun will never shine again.

You went through his phone today. He left it open on the couch as he went to get a glass of water. You guess he wasn’t expecting you to notice the constant buzzing of his phone, or perhaps he wasn’t expecting the notifications. Swiveling your head in the direction of the kitchen, you confirm he wasn’t looking, and stand up to grab his phone. You sit where he was once sitting, clicking on the most recent notification. You notice the green icon and conclude someone was texting him. Quite frequently.

Your jaw clenches as you catch a glimpse of a red heart emoji. The messages load onto the screen and tears prick at your eyes. You grip the device tighter, and your white acrylics dig into the screen.

My boo: When u comin over hun? ❤ Don't tell me ur still w/ that lil girl lmfaoo

My boo: Still can’t believe ur staying with her ong

My boo: She’s cute n all but I'm obv better

Sent 2 minutes ago

You were trembling like crazy, trying to stop yourself from murdering your boyfriend in the kitchen. This was the second time. The second time you caught your boyfriend cheating. The first time, your girlfriend sent you a bunch of sobbing emojis and a picture of your significant other holding hands with a coworker. They were walking down the busy streets of the bustling city you lived near.

You confronted him about it, close to leaving, but his begging stopped you from leaving all those months ago. You wondered if it was the same girl from the picture. You heard an obnoxious yawn approaching the living room, so you hastily locked his phone and threw it to the side.

“Imma be leaving here in a minute. I’ll be back soon.” He mumbled, stretching his arms over his head. You nodded silently, not a word falling from your lips. He took that as your approval and left to your shared room. You sat on the couch for a few more minutes, and stayed there, even after he kissed your cheek as a goodbye. Does he kiss her with those same lips? The same lips that used to say, ‘you’re my only’ to you?

Then, it hit you. You’re not worth shit to him. He’ll never care about you like he used to, when you were the only one. Were you ever the only one? You stood up hastily and rushed to your room.

You were gonna get drunk tonight. And you were gonna forget about that son of a bitch.

Yet, here you are, reminiscing about what had happened this afternoon. “Bin, I need to tell you something.” You whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. You look down at your thighs, and your sorrow runs down your face and drops onto your leather skirt. You attempt to wipe away said tears, but they just won’t stop. Like the rain, you so long to feel on your face, masking your troubles.

It seems as if Changbin had noticed your tears and promptly said, “We’re going to my place.”

☂‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

You clutch a pillow to your chest as you explain what you had seen on your boyfriend’s phone. As you continue to speak, it seems as if he gets angrier the more he processes what you’re saying. “Fuck. I’ll kill him.” He grits out, clenching his fists. The veins in his arms become more prominent as he does that, and it kills you to not tell him how you’ve felt all this time. “Don’t. It’ll just make things worse.” You say wearily, burying your head into the white throw pillow. You hear the man hosting you sigh before you feel a drop on the couch next to you. You lift your head to look at him properly, but he’s already embracing you.

You gasp softly, genuinely surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for Changbin to hug you like this, but due to the situation, it was unexpected. Your nose wrinkles up as you turn to hug him back, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. You sob into his shoulder, and he rubs soothing circles on your lower back. He easily maneuvers you onto his lap, his hands running up and down your sides.

Once your sobbing dies down to little hiccups, you pull your head away from the junction of his neck and shoulder. Your mascara is running down your face in black streaks, and you spot black pigment on his neck as well. Changbin stares deeply into your eyes, his hands still rubbing your waist. He glances at your lips, silently asking for permission.

You bite your lip as he moves his hands to your plush thighs, once again sliding his hands back and forth. After a moment and you don’t answer, he asks out loud. “Can I kiss you?”

You answer by gently yet firmly pressing your lips against his. It feels as if coals are rolling down your throat as you kiss him, and those coals drop into your stomach and become warmer. It’s as if the metaphorical coals are being ignited by your passion for one another, and after being held back for so long, have since stored more and more heat.

Changbin’s tongue prods against your lips, and you open your mouth slightly against his, so he can explore your mouth slowly but surely. You moan softly as you kiss sloppily, all tongue battling and teeth clacking. After a few moments, you reluctantly pull away from his soft lips. Your eyes are half-lidded, and your lips are swollen. The bold red lipstick you wore was smudged on your chin and the corners of your lips.

“Binnie,” you pant. “Can I wash up? I kinda look...uh...” “Stunning?” He finishes your sentence for you. Even though you were the tipsy one, he seemed drunk of your affection. As if he’s been craving it for a while now. Like you. So why stop now? Well, you didn’t want to look like a total hobo in front of Changbin. “Stunning?” You repeat, giggling. “Well, thanks but I think I want to wash up, if that’s okay.” You say, gazing into his coffee-tinted eyes. He nods automatically, then shifts under you giving you the impression he wants you to get up. You move your weight off him and stand up, once again fixing your skirt.

Changbin starts walking in the direction of his hallway, and you follow him dutifully. He leads you to a large bedroom, cozy enough for you to think it’s Changbin’s room and not a guest room. “You can use my bathroom. I’ll go grab some towels and a washcloth.” He smiles at you, before walking out of the room. You sit down on the bed, waiting for his return. You take in the decorations of his room leisurely, appreciating the 2Pac posters and large computer setup. Maybe for smaller music production jobs? He probably has a larger desk at his workplace.

Changbin walks back into the bedroom holding a white, soft-looking towel and a similar-looking washcloth. You thank him as he hands you the cloth. “You can use my soap.” He tells you as you walk into the bathroom. You hold up a thumbs up without turning around and shut the door behind you. You decide against locking it because you trust him. More than you realized.

Only when you step under the steady flow of warm water, ridding your face of the semi-natural makeup, do you start to confront your possible feelings for the man whose shower you were in. Did you like him? He was always a bit too touchy with you. At the time, you were madly in love with your boyfriend. You need to call things off with him, and soon. You’ll only suffer more if you stay with him. Changbin, on the other hand, is probably the best choice for you. He’s humble, loyal, funny, handsome, ripped as fuck, and super sweet. You can honestly see an amazing future with him.

As you scrub the remnants of the night from your skin with Changbin’s alpine sage soap, you begin to think deeper into your life with him. A small child, maybe two, running around the kitchen as Changbin softly scolds them for causing so much ruckus as mom tries to cook dinner. You giggle and wave a hand dismissively, assuring him it’s okay. He walks up behind you, wrapping two beefy arms around your middle and kissing your neck. “I love you,” he would whisper.

A heavy knock on the door startles you thoroughly. You squeeze the soap a bit too hard in your fright, and it practically jumps out of your hands. The bar hits the floor of the shower with a loud clatter, and you hear Changbin make an alarmed noise. “Bunny?!” He calls, just loud enough to carry through the wooden door. In your scurry to grab the soap without getting your hair wet, you forget to answer the distressed man. “I’m coming in!” He declares, shoving the door open aggressively. You only notice that he opened the door after you stood up, clutching the soap that got you into this mess in the first place.

You glance at the door, which is now allowing a gust of cool air to flow into the humid bathroom. Blocking most of the doorframe in girth, not height, is the person you were just fantasizing about. He’s staring at you, way too hard. A vein is popping out of his neck and he’s trembling. But the weirdest thing is the pink flush on his cheeks. It does not occur to you to cover your intimates as your gaze trails lower and lower.

He’s hard.

You can see the outline of his dick in his gray sweatpants, and damn, does he look big. He clears his throat, and you look back into his dark brown hues. He is biting his lip, yet his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s fighting himself. There’s a lustful glint in his eye, and he looks just about ready to jump in that shower with you. Your mind clouds with the thought that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do. So, with all the confidence your body can muster, you lift your hand up and simply beckon him over with a finger.

His body sprang into action, like he was waiting for you to give him any hint you want him on you. He shucks his clothes off in record time and slides open the glass door to step in the shower with you. You back up into the shower’s wall, the cool bite of the tile reminding you of just a few hours ago how the cool gust of winter air blanketed you. Only an endless display of a dark parking lot, and nothing on your mind. Comparing that moment to now would be like comparing ice and fire. Stark contrasts to each other. Now, your skin was burning, and thoughts were running laps around your brain.

Changbin’s eyes lock on yours, the water pouring from the shower head flattening his curly hair. You reach your hand up to push his charcoal hair off his forehead so you can see his eyes better. His larger hand follows yours, and places itself on your own.

“Do you want this?” he asks, running his thumb across your knuckles. He kisses your palm once, twice, waiting for you to answer.

#changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin #stray kids #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #FIRST FIC ON HERE YIPPEE

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yuurei20 · 1 year

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Riddle Info Compilation part 16: Riddle and Floyd (pt 1)

Floyd calls Riddle “goldfish-chan” because “he’s red and tiny and unsavory”, on EN, but this explanation is a little different in his actual dialogue, where he says “食べるところなさそう”, which is something closer to “it doesn’t look like there is any part of him you could eat,” i.e. there is no meat on his bones (when translated literally).

Riddle has repeatedly expressed disapproval of the name.

Jade has a line about Floyd causing “a bit of a stir” at their orientation, and Vil says that Floyd and Riddle “have been at each other’s throats ever since orientation."

During Beanfest, we learn what happened: Floyd explains that Riddle used magic to blast him through the air at their orientation. “All I did was razz him a little, and he just SNAPPED…next thing I knew, there I was, laid out on the floor. Jade burst out laughing when he saw me.”

During preparations for a party Trey tells Riddle, “I have noticed Floyd following you around a lot lately, with that big grin on his face.”

Riddle says that he pleaded with Jade to keep Floyd out of Heartslabyul for the day, and “just thinking about Floyd irritates me.”

Floyd spends the entirety of a vignette teasing Riddle, asking him to “chit-chat” instead of study.

Riddle refuses, and Floyd offers to escort him to the book he is looking for instead. The book is revealed to be on a high shelf, but Riddle insists upon finding a stool rather than ask for Floyd’s help. Floyd boxes Riddle in (��My arm just needed a little stretch is all”) and ultimately runs away with the book, encouraging Riddle to chase after him.

In exasperation Riddle asks what it is that he has done for Floyd to treat him as he does and Floyd suddenly stops, passing him the book and wandering away. Riddle reflects, “I can’t tell if I upset him, or if that was yet another one of his mood swings.”

We see Riddle and Floyd interact for the first time in the main story during Book 2 when Riddle expresses displeasure in getting anywhere near either twin, but “especially Floyd.” The group resorts to running away from them, with Riddle explaining that the twins have baffled him ever since he enrolled at NRC.

(This scene includes some confusing additions/changes to dialogue on EN to make it sound like it is taking place at Octavinelle, when the characters are standing in the courtyard. This is unique to the EN adaptation.)

Floyd and Riddle overlap again, briefly, in Book 4, when Floyd teases a depressed Riddle about staying at the school for the holidays. Riddle assures him that that is the last thing he needs, but Trey points out that, after arguing with Floyd, Riddle at least “got his moxie back.”

This is not the only instance of Floyd inadvertently (?) being of help by harassing Riddle: he also teases Riddle about being so cold he might turn blue. Riddle turns red with rage, successfully distracting him from the cold of the night during Vargas Camp, and Floyd says he is glad that Riddle has warmed up.

#twstfacts #riddlefacts #twstriddle #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts

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maximumkillshot · 11 months

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Supernatural Masterlist

PSA- ANYTHING LABELED WITH “SMUT”, “18+”, OR OTHER WARNINGS SHOULD BE FOLLOWED. THEY CONTAIN ADULT SITUATIONS THAT ARE MEANT FOR ADULTS ONLY! HEED MY WARNINGS, I DON’T USE THEM LIGHTLY!

ALL BELOW 18, DO NOT READ MY STUFF THAT IS LABELED AS INAPPROPRIATE FOR YOUR YOUNG EYES! COME BACK AT 18 AND I WILL WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS.

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

**********************************************************************

Welcome one and All above 18 for the most part!

Here you will find all of my Supernatural works!! ENJOY!

She Wouldn’t be Into a Guy Like Me- DeanxReader Warnings: smut (unprotected [don’t party without a hat at home kids]), language,angst, LONG? yes, WORTH IT? HELL YEAH

As If Hunters Are a Thing, Right? Part I- Warnings: angst, descriptions of depression, character deaths, vivid imagery of crime scenes, drinking

Tear Me Down Pt 1- DeanxReader Warnings: angst,drinking, gore, possession, descriptions of said possession, slight self esteem issue if you really look hard, just a whole slab of Sadness really

Tear Me Down Pt 2 “Now”- DeanxReader Warnings: bit of angst in the beginning, depression, descriptions of possession, FLUFFY AS ALL HELL, make out (if that needs a warning?)

I Can’t Explain It- DeanxReader Warnings: Angst with a wee bit o’ fluff

“I Know My Baby Better Than You Anyway”- Warnings: smut (unprotected [don’t party without a hat at home kids]), language, the reader being a bit of a smart ass, slightly insecure reader, super fluff at the end

Until The End of Time- DeanxReader Warnings:OK this is what I call, SUPER FLUFF… It is semi lethal at times… I figured that a Monday needs a little !Pregnant ReaderX!Daddy Dean love.

How Can I Put This?- SamxReader Warnings: negative body image of the reader, Sammy being Cute as all hell, semi-fluffy, almost smut (Coming in Part 2)

“How Can I Put This?” Part II_ “Well In That Case”- Warnings: SMUT with protection (yay I remembered!), oral sex (Female receiving GRAPHIC), dry humping, All around dirty (seriously I need to go to church now), IT’S LONG y’know like Sam?, fluff at the end, Pairing: SamxReader, A/N: I have never said this before, but seriously, this is for 18+ users! I had to stop writing for a bit because I got all worked up. This is your only warning…enjoy! I’m Actually Thinking the Contrary of Disgust- Warnings: negative body image of the reader, language, fluffy, Dean’s a sweetheart in this one, implied smut at the end, Sick reader Pairing: Dean x Sick!Reader Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean A/N: I came down with a really bad cold and it inspired this! Dean is a supersweetheart in this one.. the fluff is super strong! enjoy the fic guys!

Where Do I Sign?- Warnings: Language, Mentions of Mental Illness, Depression, Anxiety, Mentions of Medication and being without said Medication, General Angst… This one is heavy but gets fluffy… you have been warned. Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, other characters are mentioned A/N: Hello everyone, so this is a piece that I came up with yesterday! The lovely @emoryhemsworth Beta’d this one for me so thank you once again sweetheart and Congratulations on your graduation!!!!

Writer’s Block- DRABBLE Warnings: for the first time none really! Just gets a bit steamy at the end, enjoy my people! Pairing: Dean xReader Characters:Reader,Dean A/N: This is a drabble that I came up with when I had writer’s block a while back. I think that now’s the perfect time to release it since my other fic isn’t quite ready yet so enjoy this drabble in it’s place! The other one should be out some time in the coming week.

I Will Never Deserve- Warnings: some descriptive language, cursing, fluffy Dean, angry Dean, whole bunch of Dean feels really, insecure reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Reader x Dean, Sam A/N: Ok so I kid you not this happened to me. I have been interested in a guy for a while (relationship wise). We haven’t talked in forever and then a few months later, he starts to conversate with me and basically asks me to be in a threesome…. with himself and his girlfriend…I DIDN’T DO IT! I altered parts of the conversation that I put in. So this fic is a bit of what I wish someone would have said to me… of the Dean variety. (all the way up to the read more line is the basic summation of what happened)

She’s Mine-Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (claiming, knotting, the like), cursing, semi NSFW GIFS, longgg as fuuuuuuuuuuccckkkkk but worth it (trust me) Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas A/N: Ok so this is my first time trying A/B/O dynamics… I had a very good fried of mine @emoryhemsworth Beta this for me and she did an awesome job! So shout out to her!! Also @kittenofdoomage I hope your proud!! I’ve been inspired by your A/B/O pieces for a while and I hope you enjoy this piece, you are a legend!!!

It’ll Always Be You- Warnings:SMUT, semi NSFW (Barely) gifs, Language, Nervous!Dean, tiny bit of angst, Long as all hell but worth it for the ending! Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam A/N: Hello People! This is my so so so late admission for @mamaredd123‘s 100 quotes challenge! I am so sorry this is so late. Both my sister and I had surgeries and that put a whole halt to my writing endeavors. I am so happy with the product and I hope that y’all are too.

Since I Saw You- Warnings: None, Unless you aren’t a fan of tooth-rotting fluff, some awkward stuff maybe if you squint. Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Y/N A/N: Hello People! Ohh two fics in less than a week? What is going on with me? Well here is my first RPF. This takes place right at the beginning of Supernatural! I mean no disrespect towards Danneel or anyone else in the fic. This is 100% a work of fiction and not meant to harm or hurt anyone at all! Please enjoy! Also let me know if I did good! I’m an insecure writer and I needs the validations!

Needed You (Imagine)-Warnings: Only one, mention of a bad hunt… Other than that a sprig of angst n a giant pile of fluff. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack, Reader. A/N: Anonymous asked: Can I request a Jack imagine?Why yes you can, nonny. Yes you can. For this one I am not sure where you wanted me to go with it, so I am going to try a different approach, I hope you like it! I’ve never written for Jack before but let’s give it a go!

Grandma Got Fucked Over By A Reindeer-Warnings: None really, description of a murder, some cussing, implied future smut, but nothing happens, promise! Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jack A/N: This is for @atc74 ‘s Cards Against Christmas Drabble Challenge. I had so much fun making this. I don’t even know how to define this genre, maybe a crack fic? Enjoy people!!

Jealousy-Pairing: Dean X Reader Situation: undercover office hunt where Dean get Jealous of reader getting attention from men that work in the office. Genre: Smut/Fluff Warnings: SMUT, FLUFFY AS ALL HELL, !Jealous Dean Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, A/N: Is this a drabble? NO….. DO I CARE? NOT EVENN A BIT!!! I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE, Thank you so much for submitting!

For You- Warnings: SMUT, Angst, the lightest bit of BDSM…. Fluffy Smutty Dom Demon Dean…. Yes you read that correctly… I didn’t think it was possible either… but hey, here we are. Pairing: Fluffy!Dom!Demon! Dean x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Reader. A/N: Here’s another piece for the 606 challenge!!! I’m sorry it’s been a bit, classes started up again and I’m drowning in work, but I was able carve out time for this fic. I am slowly working on When You Call as well so… NOBODY PANIC THERE IS A PART 12 on the way (I may or may not be aiming for this weekend… *wink) In the meantime, please enjoy this fic!

I’ll Tell You What, Winchester- Warnings: None Really, future smut implied Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader. A/N:This is from my 100 follower celebration, so I decided to move it to the 606 because I really want to do some gifs as well. Special thanks to @jayankles who submitted this a while ago (So sorry that it took this long.)

The Pie-Warnings: LETHAL FLUFF(look to tags to avoid spoilers), idk what else but yeah, there yah go!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!!!! Pairing:Dean Winchester x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, A/N:Yet another Drabble Done for the 606 celebration/challenge!!! @mamaredd123 Submitted: How about a Dean x Reader, no particular genre, go with a drabble… “How could you forget the pie??”THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUBMISSION AND….ENJOY THE FLUFF

She’s A Knockout- Warnings: Some angst, some spoilers for s14, some fluff, cursing because c’mon it’s me we’re talkin’ about, also some allusion to sexy times. Pairing: Dean x Donna Characters: Doug, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Donna A/N: ONWARD WITH THE 606 CHALLENGE!!! I know I haven’t posted for this in a while, but this submission from @adoptdontshoppets that just started singing to me tonight. The submission is:“Whatcha doin’ here Dean?” + Dean x Donna + Dean shows up at the sheriff’s office to ask Donna on a date + I vote for fluff ‘cause she says ‘yes.’ Though angst if she says no could be interesting too. 🙂 Maxi’s 606

For You Part 2- Warnings: depressing memories, some provoking Demon!Dean, metions of sexy times, it’s really a prepper for part 3…. if you want it. Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader A/N: If you want part 3 tell me so!!

The Letter- Warnings: Some angst, Jealous!Dean, Sam’s just being Sam, Mentions of Hell and sexy times, nothing too bad, Pg-13 at best… not even really, FLUFFFFFFYYYYY Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Random Dude, Reader (Of course) A/N: Hello all, I wasn’t able to post over the weekend, but hey! I’m doing it now!!! Enjoy everyone.. It’s FLUFFYY and as always…. GIFS AIN’T MINE!!

Tethered-Warnings: angsty PAIN OWWWW Pairing:Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, (If I said who, it’d be a spoiler.) A/N: This was from @jayankles Thanks so much for the gifs hun!!

Sweet Birthday Bash- Warnings: None just lethal fluff, really Pairing: None Characters: Ana,Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester , Cass and Jack are mentioned A/N: This is for the wonderful @anathewierdo to celebrate her birthday!! From her crazy tia Rowena (Vicky)

Right- Warnings:lethal fluff, smut too, nothing too explicit since tumblr is having an existential crisis… Pairing: Emory x Dean Winchester Characters: Emory,Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester , Cass and Jack are mentioned A/N: Happy birthday to my girl @emoryhemsworth !!! I’ll join you at 24 in a few months!!!

I Need Help-Warnings: Mental Breakdowns, mentions of Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety, depression, and other illnesses, small bit of cursing, fluff, angst, y’know the common roller coaster! Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Jack A/N: Hey so… I had an episode. This what I know Dean would do for his number one girl… if she lived with what I have…

Make it Better- Warnings: ANGSTY AF, like it’s bad for a while there, then it gets better. Some cussing possible, mentions of S14 stuffs. Pairing: Dean x ReaderCharacters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, OMC Luke, (Multiple other charaters mentioned A/N: This is from an ask by @carribear31 Her ask reads: So I have an idea, it could be angsty. Going back to beginning if seadon 14. Dean is free from Michael and comes back to the bunker to find all the AU hunters there. Him and reader have been together for awhile but seeing all these other hunters need her for this and that makes him feel unneeded and useless and even a bit jealous when he notices one other hunter seems to seek her out more then the others. Now with Dean feel sorry for himself and pushing her away she must prove they belong together. Happy ending please! Thank you!

You Had Me - Warnings: Fluff, Smut (I’M DIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME), unprotected sex (always wrap it before you tap it), asshole OMC who has a problem with plus sized women Pairing: Dean x Reader Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester A/N:Anon asked: Hey I love you’re writing!💕 can I request a dean x plus size reader where the reader is super quirky and shy also super insecure but does all there research and one day the reader gets ask on a date but gets setup and deans comforts his feelings maybe smut?Here you are Nonny!

SERIES LIST (Any Fic series with more than 2 parts):

“When You Call” Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Angst, Fluff, Smut! A/B/O Dynamics

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Ansgt, depression, it’s not for the faint of heart, honestly

The Zeppelin Shirt Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: SMUT 18+ only, I could not be more serious with this, honestly. Some angst.

The Situation Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Hilariously funny... Dean’s a Chick and let’s just say that he’s having issues adjusting womanhood

Disposable Masterlist- Ongoing... Main feels: PAIN PAIN PAIN

Plenty of Woman Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Past traumas, Dean trying to fix some real bad shit he did in the past to the reader. There will be fluff and smut spattered around in my humble opinion, not guarenteed though, as all stories take a mind of their own over time. (individual warnings will be in each fic themselves… for the love of everything read and follow them!)

By The Books Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Lot of school work, flirting, smut to follow. Individual warnings will be in each fic themselves.)

#spn #spn fandom #spn fanfic #spn family #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #abo dynamics #when you call #alpha dean x omega reader #By the books #disposable

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cecekeating · 4 months

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My 608 Jordayla thoughts/breakdowns pt.2

We are back at the therapist with Layla. She is about to start the treatment. She is again very nervous. The therapist wants them to talk about her mother. Just as an aside, if you are wondering how the therapist was able to pick topics off the bat to talk to Layla about, it was mentioned in the first scene with them that she has notes on previous sessions. So the therapist has enough info about Layla and her previous history and is making decisions about the sessions about them. Again, Layla is reluctant and at this point, the therapist makes it clear that she can’t help if Layla is not willing to co operate. Layla agrees.

This is where we get to to the meat of the issue. When I was watching, I had concluded that the session was going to be about Layla just missing her mother or Layla just confronting her abandonment issues as it related to her impending marriage to Jordan. I was not ready for the angle the writers took with this arc at all.

We get the first flashback with baby Layla ( absolutely adorable actress playing Layla and perfectly casted). She is at the old house. Remember the house that Layla trashes in season 1? I want to pause here and have us reflect on the end of season 1. Maybe Layla trashing the house can be indicative of trying to destroy the traumatic memories she had in that house as a child. Just a food for thought for you.

So we see baby Layla hearing her mother and father in a room. Remember this is an actual memory from Layla’s childhood. She is recalling the memory to the therapist. Because she is going deep into a buried memory, Layla becomes overwhelmed in the present and session is paused.

We start the session again and Layla is able to continue relaying the memory to the therapist. We now see baby Layla open the door to reveal her parents. This was when my mind was blown away. I was GAGGED when I saw that the writers had Mike and Greta play JP and Monica Keating. I did not expect this at all and I need to give the writers their props for this brilliant writing. I also feel I need to pause to explain what was going on in this scene because I feel it was lost on some of the audience.

What we are seeing is an actual memory of Layla from when she was 6 years old. We see that at that time, her mother is deep in depression and her father is struggling to help her mother. Monica Keating is lost as to her identity, JP needs her and he tries to let her know that Layla needs her too. Monica also feels that JP lost his spark from having to deal with her. Do you see where the second question Layla asks Jordan at the beach house comes in?

Again, this is an actual memory from Layla’s childhood. Having Mike and Greta play JP and Monica is to show that specific memory from Layla’s childhood has now manifested as a fear in Layla’s head about her relationship/ impending marriage to Jordan Baker.

We go back to the present and it all makes sense now for Layla. She is afraid her marriage will be like her parents’ marriage.

We are now at the final part of this brilliant story. Jordan and Layla talking about the session. This was my favourite part of the entire episode. And so much was said in this scene without it being said explicitly. First of all, I want to call back to the light moment about breaking up with coach Mac. Jordan having his own podcast episode to say FU to coach Mac and “end things” with him is the right level of pettiness and dramatics that I expect from him and I love him so much for it!

Back to the conversation! So Layla explains to Jordan that she was able to figure out why the meds stopped working. The engagement. The next thing Jordan says is “The thought of marrying me made you unhappy?” In his head, his worst fear is about to come to pass. Call back to earlier in the episode. Layla asking those questions triggered him too and threw him off balance. This scene showed us the extent to which those questions threw him off. Layla says no but she continues to explain honestly. Again, she feels safe enough to tell Jordan everything - including the uncomfortable aspects of her parents’ marriage. As she speaks, you can see the hurt form on Jordan’s face. It now makes sense to him. Why she was dragging her feet and questioning his love for her. But also he understands. In this moment, Jordan shows so much compassion for the situation Layla is in. He understands that the engagement was sprung on her without notice and he takes responsibility for that. Before going further, I want to once again applaud the writers for their attention to detail. I did not think they would ever bring up how quick their engagement went but here we are. Because when you look at things panaromically, Jordayla got engaged really young and quickly and it is super realistic that there are implications of doing that. In this case, it triggered an unresolved trauma in Layla’s life.

Jordan with all the love and compassion in his heart, offers Layla an out to end the engagement. Lets go back to episode 607 shall we? In this episode, we saw how Jordan was so worried about Layla and her well being. He was so worried that he nearly lost a very important game as a footballer. We saw him fight to make sure Layla was okay. Layla was his top priority in that episode. In that same episode he said “none of it matters until my fiancee is whole”. This episode showed us that Jordan meant every word he said in episode 607. He meant it so much so that he was willing to lose this same fiancee if it meant she would be whole again. Jordan chose Layla above the engagement, his feelings and his hurt. You could see him hurting but like he said in episode 607 “Your best is my best” If the best thing for Layla was to end the engagement so she could be whole, then it was the best thing for him too. He gave her an out because he will give anything to make her happy because he loves her.

On Layla’s end, she explains her fear of marrying him but she also comes to the realise that she and Jordan are not her parents. She also realises that in spite of all she has been through, Jordan has stuck with her and he has always looked at her with love. She realises in this moment, on her own, how unwavering and unconditional Jordan’s love is for her. If you recall in earlier episodes, she has had people talk and convince her to realise how much Jordan loves her - Ryan in ep 2 with the moving in, Patience in ep 6 and Olivia in ep 7. This time around she realised by herself that Jordan loves her by remembering that he has stayed with her in her lowest and through it all, he never gave up on her or stopped loving her.

This realisation gives Layla the courage to choose Jordan, just like he chose her. Remember, love is a choice. She chose Jordan over her current circumstances and was willing to face her fears with him by her side. If she has to face her fears so she doesn’t lose Jordan, she would. If you notice the breakthrough happens when she assures him that she meant it when she said Yes to his proposal and when she confesses her love for him. You can see her struggle to get the words out but she fights to say it out. This was the moment, she chose Jordan regardless of what was going on in her life. In the difficult moment, Jordan and Layla chose each other and decided to remain committed till the end. She asks for more time and Jordan tells her to take all the time she needs. Of course he will say that. He has always been patient with her. From their first kiss to waiting for her before having sex with her to becoming a couple and agreeing to the secret dating, Jordan has consistently let Layla take her time to figure things out. I think its one of the reasons why she loves him. Again she is safe enough with Jordan to ask for some more time to heal so she doesn’t bring any baggage into their marriage because she knows he will accept her request. And he did!

I have enjoyed the writing for Jordayla this season so much and this episode really brought it all together. The writers have been A* with this mental health arc and how it relates to Jordayla as a couple. I am excited to see what is in store for them as the season progresses and I am confident that they will continue to grow stronger. I loved writing this piece and I really hope you enjoyed it. Apologies if it is too long or if I rambled. This is my first ever Jordayla breakdown. I have loved being part of the Jordayla fandom so I thought I’d make my own small contribution.

For everyone struggling with any kind of mental health issues, know that you are loved. Keep talking, find your tribe and get all the love and support available. I promise it gets easier.

For anyone helping or supporting a friend or loved one through mental health issues, thank you for showing up and being there. Know that you are loved and appreciated.

If you want to yap about Jordayla, my DMs are open! Feel free to reach out.

#jordayla #layla keating #jordan baker

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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DO YOU LOVE HER - pt 2

summary: after finding out your first love lo'ak had cheated on you with tsireya, you are left to find yourself again. luckily the chief's son is ready to be there along with you

content: 1.2k words, fem!omatikaya reader, angst, negative self talk, depression, hurt comfort

authors note: i'm so sorry i've been so dead here on tumblr!! lifes been getting me buttt her is the awaited pt2. i have a headcanon that na'vi's love hard, so they also get heartbroken hard. so i incorporated that. hope you enjoy babies!!

pt 1

It was like the world went grey after that night. Walking away from Lo’ak with tears falling down your face as sobs so loud even the waves couldn’t silence them echoed out into the night.

How were you meant to live here. Alone, no family, no lover. You couldn’t go back to the marui you shared with the Sully’s. You couldn’t go back to the forest. You were alone.

This feeling didn’t go away. It had been weeks and you were still barely being seen in the open. You moved your stuff into a small marui on the edge of the village, the Sully’s especially Tuk asked why you were moving but you didn’t have the energy to explain it to them. You decided it was Lo’ak’s responsibility.

But the days and nights merged into one. The soft breeze of the wind, you never felt as you stayed hidden away. Your hair was starting to get messy, your eyes having large eyebags below them, your figure frail and weak as you had not attended any communal dinners in weeks.

Concern grew for you immensely in the Sully home, as Lo’ak felt himself be eaten up with guilt. It crawled in and gnawed at his heart every time he looked at the closed curtains of your secluded home.

“Lo’ak…you must talk with her.” Neytiri says, brushing her hands through her son’s hair. She missed your presence dearly. You were another daughter of hers.

“and say what? She does not want apologies.” Lo’ak complained twitching away from Neytiri’s loving touches.

“She has not been out of the house in a very long time…Lo’ak you have to own up to your choices and fix this.” Lo’ak shook his head fiercely.

“I can’t fix this…I can’t fix this at all.”

However, there was someone who was making their way to your marui. Ready to fix this, ready to see you thrive. Sick and tired of your decline.

You heard the shuffle of your closed curtains and groaned at the sudden brightness. “go away.”

“Get up.” You shot up in an instant at the familiar voice.

“Ao’nung?...What are you doing here?” Ao’nung assessed your features. Your sickliness made him feel queasy, you were so pale, so thin. His heart broke just seeing you like this.

“I am the chief’s son, I have a duty to make sure everyone in my clan is doing alright….and I’m worried about you.” The last part of his sentence was said with tenderness, his usually cocky face showing an uttermost care and sincerity.

“…well I’m fine. You can go.” Your voice was as harsh as it could be, it was raspy, raw from all the hysterical cries you had let out.

“We both know you’re not…” Ao’nung stepped closer to you, his rough fingers reaching out to touch your cold shoulder. Both literally and figuratively.

“I don’t want you pity.”

“I don’t pity you…I’m worried about you.” Ao’nung said, crouching down so he could be eye-level with you as you laid in your bed.

“I know you pity me. The brother of the woman my first love cheated on me with. You are probably being tasked to do this. Please just go…I don’t need help.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ve had that said to me before.”

Lo’ak was making his way towards your secluded marui. His palms were sweaty, shaking as he walked. His heart-beated louder in his chest the closer he got to your home. His mind swirled with what to say to you. How he could ever reconcile the bond between you. How you could ever forgive him.

As he reached the entrance of your marui he felt paralysed with fright. He stood at the slighty shut curtain, as he peeked inside.

You were sobbing, lips quivering as your chest heaved up and down. He saw your broken figure the way you were shaking, your incoherent mumbles followed by the aggressive hiccups of your loud cries.

“I just don’t understand why I wasn’t good enough…” You cried out loud, he thought you were crying to yourself, breaking yourself down with your thoughts. But he was wrong.

A soft shush came from inside the tent. As Lo’ak peered closer he noticed a familiar figure, soothing your worked up cries as he patted the back of your head, letting you cry into his chest. Ao’nung

He didn’t know why he felt so sick seeing you cry in another man’s arms. He had no right to feel possessive over you when he had done you so wrong. But maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t fix this. That he had completely lost you, but not only as a lover, but as a friend. Someone who followed him to the ends of the earth.

“You are good enough…don’t talk about yourself like that.” Ao’nung hugged you tightly. It was the first touch, the first sense of comfort you had felt in weeks. Maybe that’s why your walls broke down so first. Crumbling into his outstretched hands. “He was just selfish…it was not you, not you at all.” He comforted, letting your cries deafen him as you continued to shake and shiver in his arms.

Lo’ak felt as if he was going to puke. The reality of his selfishness occurring right in front of him. He had to go. He couldn’t do this. He was too selfish to face his own choices, too scared to realise the truth of what he had done to you.

Ripped you away from the forest, your family, your clan. Only to desert you the moment he found his heart buzzing. He was immature and he would live his life loving in guilt, knowing that he sacrificed your happiness for his own.

So he walked away. His head hung low in shame. As the calls of the happy villagers around him seemed to taunt him. How could anyone rejoice in a time like this? But he did what led him to this problem in the first place. He headed straight to Tsireya for comfort.

Your crying subsided eventually, throat feeling raw as Ao’nung quietly hushed you as he rocked you in his arms.

If you weren’t in a completely vulnerable state you would have already crawled out of his arms and washed off his stench. But right now as you both sat in your bed, as he cradled you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. You felt cared for, for the first time in a long time.

His arms were strong, as he moved the hair out of your face softly, letting you grow sleepy in his embrace.

“you know it’s not your fault. Right?” You frowned, lips tucked into each other as you looked into his deep stare,.

“one day I will…” ao’nung nodded and rocked you both back and forward until your sad whimpers turned into soft snores as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Ao’nung was sure he would beat Lo’ak harder than he had ever been beaten before. No mercy would be given. But right now he focused on the broken girl in his arms, that he was determined to make sure was whole again.

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @lixiesbrowniess

thankyou sm for reading!! reblogs + replies so totally appreciated thankyou lovelies <333

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hearts4hughes · 2 years

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hurt - jack hughes

jack hughes x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, mention of alcohol, let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: pt 1 is here. i’m sorry this is so rushed, i’ve been kinda in a writers block, but i felt bad for not posting a part 2. hope you enjoy reading lovies!

gif is not mine

it’s been two weeks since my fight with jack and needless to say, i’m doing awful. i’ve spent most of my time alone in my apartment eating ice cream and mopping.

as of today thought, it’s my ‘turning point’ according to olivia and julianna. they are both currently over my house, pulling me out of my depression hole, or trying to at least.

“no excuses, y/n! we are going out tonight,” olivia urges, shuffling through my closet, grabbing a sparkly minidress, and throwing it on my bed. i pick up the flimsy material, raising a brow.

“i just don’t know,” i lay back down, covering myself with my blanket, “what if we accidentally run into him?”

“don’t be a party pooper,” i hear julianna’s muffled laugh from my bathroom, guessing she’s going through my makeup, “do you know how many clubs there are in jersey, bae? there’s a very little chance that we are going to run into him.”

she wasn’t wrong, but i had a feeling i was just going to be that unlucky. “fine,” i rub my eyes, throwing the blankets off of me, “let’s go get drunk.” both olivia and julianna cheer in response as we begin getting ready.

right as we walk into the night club, i’m led straight to the bar. after 5 shots and three vodka martinis, it’s good to say i’m plastered. currently, i’m grinding on some hot guy on the dance floor, when i hear a familiar voice.

“y/n?” i turn around to see a very surprised niko, “i haven’t seen you in a few of weeks,” he brings me into a big hug.

“hey what’s up,” i break out into a smile, always happy to see niko, “what are you doing here?”

niko doesn’t say anything and i catch julianna making her way over here, with a worried look on her face.

suddenly, i turn around, being met with jack’s face.

shit, shit.

“y/n,” jack starts to talk, but before he can finish i push him away and go full speed to the exit.

“wait, y/n!” i feel a heavy hand grab onto my wrist, pulling me back, “just give me a few minutes to explain.” i try to pull away from jack, but his grip on my wrist was strong, “please.”

“i’m not even joking when i say you have 5 minutes,” my words are stern, but i meant them to be.

jack fixes his hat and begins, “i’m in love with you.”

“that’s your apology?” i scoff, “that’s great, jack, really that’s fucking fabulous. i’m in love with you too, but that doesn’t make anything better.”

his face drops as he stares at the floor, “no, no, i have an apology too.”

“go on then, spit it out!”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry for everything,” he blurts out, “i came over your apartment that night because i wanted to tell you how i felt. i wanted to tell you that i loved you,” he closes his eyes in frustration, “but when i saw you getting ready for that date, i got jealous. i was jealous that someone else was taking you out. so i acted recklessly and yelled at you.”

i don’t say anything, allowing him to continue, “i’m sorry for everything, y/n. and you don’t have to accept my apology, just know that i really mean it because i love you and i never want to see you upset.” without a doubt, i hug him,

“i’m sorry too, jack.”

he begins to hug me back and we both stand there, bathing in each others embrace.

“you don’t have anything to be sorry for-” i cut him off before he can finish his sentence, smashing my lips onto his. it doesn’t take long before he’s kissing me back.

“i love you so much, jack.”

“i love you more.”

#hearts4hughes #jack hughes #jack hughes imagines #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #hockey blurb #nhl imagine #nora's writings 💐

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hadesforpreswrites · 1 year

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dirty laundry, pt. 1

a/n: i wrote this when i was feeling incredibly low. it's based on something that happened to me. the title is from all time low. might have a part 2.

before you read this, be aware that this particular piece deals with the after effects of trauma (rape). it doesn't deal with it right after the incident but it shows how even after over a decade it can still affect someone.

before we proceed further: this is your warning that description of sexual assault on a minor will happen. this is based on truth as well as being a work of fan fiction.

i fought so hard with myself to even post this but was encouraged by @remedyx. if you don't want to read it, please by all means don't. but if you do, please be kind.

if something similar has happened to you, please reach out to me if you feel like you need to talk. i love you, you are worthy.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: talk of past sexual assault, trauma talk, depictions of depressive episode

word count: 2,585

summary: after seeing something triggering online, y/n is struggling. noah learns some deep secrets of his friend and tries to help.

part two part three part four part five

she’s got her secrets/yeah, i’ve got mine too

meeting friends when you’re adults means you have to understand that you will not know everything about them as easily as if you were kids. it was something that rang true for everyone.

noah understood this and was ready and willing for his friends to have secrets from him. pasts that didn’t want or need to be explained. all that mattered to him was that they were there here and now.

that is until one day when his friend messaged a group chat that consisted of him, andy biersack, and his other friend, scarlett. scarlett messaged them saying that their other friend, one they had planned a birthday party for in this very group chat, was having a very hard time.

that wasn’t new, she had been having a rough go of it off and on for a couple of months. something to do with her meds and the pharmacy being out-of-stock, something that confused the hell out of noah. but something about this time felt different.

noah abruptly stood up, startling his friends that he was with. in his worry and being glued to his phone for the last however many minutes, he had almost forgotten where he was.

“you good, man?” nick asked.

“yeah, i just gotta go do something for a friend.”

“is it y/n?” jolly teased.

“as a matter of fact, yes,” noah said while gathering his things. he waved to his friends, promising to meet up with them again soon, and took off out of the house.

he barely buckled his seatbelt before taking off in his car toward scarlett and y/n’s house. in his relatively short drive, his brain was swirling with possibilities of what was wrong. why had scarlett threatened men specifically? (this time anyway) could he still pick a lock? (probably) what if y/n didn’t want to see them? (she usually did but what if this time was different?) what could he do specifically to make her feel better? (maybe ice cream - she likes ice cream) could he get her to open up and spill this obviously heartbreaking secret to him? (he sure hopes so, but is he prepared for the aftermath?)

he barely registered that he had pulled into the driveway beside andy’s car because it was such an autopilot response to go to their house at this point. he locked his car and walked up to the front door. he didn’t even bother knocking as he entered and was met by the smell of pizza baking in the oven.

“great! everyone’s here!” scarlett said loud enough to be heard throughout the house - obviously trying to get y/n’s attention.

“is she still in there?” noah asked, slipping his shoes off at the door.

“only came out to get water right before we got here,” juliet said, casting a glance down the hall.

“door may be unlocked now though,” scarlett said thoughtfully. “maybe i’ll go peek my head in.”

“i’ll do it,” noah offered, quickly. too quickly if the smirks on his friends’ faces was any indication. he shook his head as he walked down the hall toward y/n’s room.

he knocked softly and listened closely. “i’m fine,” a quiet voice sounded through the wood, followed by a sniffle.

“you don’t sound fine, doll,” he said as he leaned his forehead against the door. “can i come in? please?”

“it’s unlocked.”

when he entered her room, his heart shattered. the ever-present blue twinkle lights she had strung around her room had been shut off, along with any mention of light from anywhere else, except her phone screen. she had her comforter pulled up to her ear with her back facing him.

he shut the door softly behind him and padded across to the bed. he climbed under the covers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. he felt her stiffen at the contact but not pull away, instead leaning into him once she calmed.

he knew this had to be crossing some sort of imaginary line he’d set for himself but he couldn’t help himself. his friend, honestly probably his best friend, was hurting and that trumped any romantic feelings he has for her.

“when did you get here?” she asked, sniffling again.

“just now. needed to know you were at least physically okay. what happened? i thought you got your meds worked out?” he asked, softly.

“i did. it’s not that. i wish it were that because then i don’t feel like i’ve failed.”

“babe, whatever it is, you haven’t failed anything.”

“yes, i have. i thought i’d worked through it and then i see one thing online and suddenly my brain throws away over a decade of work,” her hand moves to wipe newly fallen tears.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks, realizing it may be a feeble attempt.

“no. but i should,” she sighs before turning around to face him. “i just don’t want you to think differently of me.”

he keeps his arms firmly around her and chances a kiss to the top of her head. “y/n, i think the world of you and nothing is gonna change that.”

“promise?” he could feel his t-shirt dampen with tears.

he pulled away just enough so he could look her in her eyes. eyes that held a pain he never knew was there. he feels a sense of rage bubble up in him at whoever caused this precious human this amount of pain. “promise.”

she took a steadying breath and began to sit up. they sat side-by-side, backs against the headboard, his legs spread in front of him and hers pulled up to her chest, protecting herself.

“when i was 15, i was in a really bad place. i was undiagnosed, unmedicated, and wanting love. so i took what i could get from whoever i could get it from. i wasn’t promiscuous or anything, in fact i’ve never had sex. i just wanted someone to love me because i couldn’t love myself.

i dated this guy who was all kinds of wrong but i thought i was in love. he kept breaking my heart so one day when we were broken up, i decided to invite his friend over to hang out. i thought he was cute and we made out and stuff but that was as far as i wanted it to go,” she took a breath and a drink of water as tears filled her eyes again.

he knew where this was going and he felt himself getting even more angry but he let her keep going.

“i tried to keep him off me, i really did. he was pulling my shorts so hard and i was trying to keep them on, i thought my nails would break. i kept crying and saying no over and over. but it was like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t hear me. but i know he did because when he stopped, he called me a tease and wiped his hand on a stuffed animal that was near the bed.”

he wanted so badly to hold her and tell her he’d never let that happen to her again, but he held himself back not wanting to make things worse.

she cleared her throat after a moment of pause. “anyway, i was working through it on my own for years and didn’t tell anyone until like a year later. and then when i got in therapy we worked on it for a bit and i thought i had gotten better. but i was scrolling through tumblr and came across this story that was non-con, non-consensual, and it just fucking broke me.

i don’t normally kinkshame or tell people what they shouldn’t do because that’s their business but i’ll never understand non-consensual, rape fantasies. there’s absolutely nothing to fantasize about. it’s humiliating. it’s painful. physically, mentally, and emotionally. it makes you feel like you’ll never be clean again and that you’re not worthy of even the smallest of respect or love.

noah, i worked so hard to make myself believe that i’m not dirty or broken and that i am worthy. i worked so hard and it was just stripped away from me again like it was nothing.”

“i know you did. you always work hard. and let me tell you something,” he moved so he was right in front of her on his knees. he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “you are so worthy. you’re the worthiest person i know. you deserve the world and he doesn’t even deserve a grave. you’re not broken or dirty, you’re strong and beautiful. and i am so lucky to have you in my life, you know that, right? and now you don’t have to work as hard because you won’t be doing it by yourself.”

“promise?” her voice was small.

“i promise,” he confirmed.

she basically launched herself at him with a sob and wrapped her arms around him. he pulled her into his lap and held her. oh how he had imagined this moment, but she was not crying in his imagination.

“will you stay with me?” she asked into his chest.

“always,” he kissed the top of her head.

after some time, she stopped shaking from crying and relaxed in his arms.

“let’s get you some food,” he said.

“ice cream?”

“absolutely,” he chuckled. “but i think scarlett made pizza if you want some of that first. if there’s any left, andy and juliet are here too.”

“i might could do that, then ice cream,” she decided, pulling away from him.

“deal,” he stood up from the bed, taking her with him. after setting her down on her feet, he grabbed her hand - just to make sure she knew he was staying by her side, and they walked toward the kitchen.

“hey, sunshine,” andy said as they emerged from the darkened hallway.

“hey, sorry,” she said as she wrapped an arm around him and then juliet, still holding noah’s hand.

“you don’t have to apologize,” juliet said, as she smoothed the other woman’s hair. “you’re allowed to have people worry about you.”

“we’re more than happy to be those people for you,” andy backed her up.

y/n gave them a small smile and eyed the pizza.

“here’s your gross ass pizza, my love,” scarlett said, handing her a plate with a piece of her favorite pizza on it.

“you’re the best roommate a girl could have,” she said, sitting at the bar by andy, noah sitting on her other side.

“yeah, yeah,” scarlett said, intently watching as y/n took a bite of her pizza.

conversation buzzed around them as she finished her slice, she only wanted one right now - her main focus on the ice cream in her future. noah participated in the conversation on the outside but on the inside he was replaying her story over and over in his head like a movie on loop. he was angry for her. he had questions. but he wasn’t sure when was the right time to ask - though he knew not right now in front of everyone.

he must have zoned out because when he came too he was met with the expectant eyes of y/n.

“sorry, what?”

“ice cream?”

“of course,” he replied, rising from his spot at the bar.

“let me go change real quick,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.

“for why?”

“i’m in pajamas?” she motioned to her shorts and oversized t-shirt. a shirt that he just realized belonged to him at one point.

“we don’t have to get out of the car,” he said, standing up fully. “you look fine.” he didn’t miss the look that andy, juliet, and scarlett passed between them.

“you don’t let people eat in your car,” she trailed off.

he leaned down to look her in the eye, “consider yourself special, then. let’s go.”

before he turned around he caught a glimpse of a blush creep on her face and felt a sense of pride. he didn’t catch the way she looked at scarlett with wide eyes, or the way juliet motioned for her to move. andy was grinning at the whole scene.

she got up and slipped on a pair of sandals that were near the door and followed noah out the door and toward his car. he opened the passenger door for her. “well, thank you kind sir,” she said before sliding into the seat.

he chuckled as he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side. once he was buckled and started toward her favorite ice cream place, he chanced a look at y/n as she looked out the window.

“hey,” he said softly. “you okay?”

“i will be,” she answered. “it’s just a lot to process.”

“i can imagine. can i ask you something?”

“of course.”

“when you were telling me what happened, you said that you’d never had sex before it happened?”

“yeah. so my first and only experience with sex was that. which is why i always get weird when you guys start talking about it,” she explained.

“i’d always wondered. wait. did you say your only experience?” he was baffled.

“yeah,” she answered, finally fully looking at him.

“that honestly explains so much. and also i’m so sorry that your experience was that.”

“you don’t have to apologize. it happened. it sucks. it sucks a lot. and sometimes i feel like i’m missing out on a whole world. but most of the time i’m fine.”

“don’t do that,” he scolded.

“do what?”

“minimize your trauma to make you seem more palatable. it’s not helpful. it’s not cute.”

she went quiet and looked away, back out the window.

he kicked himself. that came out a lot harsher than he meant. he pulled into a parking spot at the ice cream place and told her to sit tight while he went to get the ice cream. she didn’t argue.

“y/n,” he said when he slid back into his seat, ice cream in hand.

she was surprised to see he got exactly what she wanted, not that she deviated from what she liked all that often. she just wasn’t aware of how much he paid attention to her.

“i didn’t-” he started. “i didn’t mean for that to come out that way. i just meant that i don’t want you to minimize with me. you’re allowed to feel however you feel.”

“i know. i just guess i didn’t realize that’s what i was doing.”

“you do it all the time, doll. i just never knew why and i think i get it now.”

she smiled softly. “how did you know which ice cream i wanted?” she knew the change in subject wouldn’t go unnoticed but hoped he would catch on that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore for the time being.

he pulled out his phone and went to the notes app. “i keep track of your favorites.”

she blushed. “why?”

“haven’t caught on yet?” he smirked at her.

“caught on to what?”

“i’m practically at your beck and call. i let you and no one else eat in my car. i apparently let you wear my clothes,” he gestured to the t-shirt she was wearing.

“noah, i don’t understand.”

“how can someone be so smart and so blind at the same time? i’m basically in love with you, dummy.”

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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norry-yippee · 4 months

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My current work in progress-

A Starchaser F1 au, Regulus drive for Mercedes alongside Remus, James drives for Ferrari alongside Frank, Sirius drives for Redbull alongside Ted, Evan drives for McLaren(WOOHOO) alongside Marlene, etc. Barty serves as Reg’s engineer, Mary and Lily are Press Officers, with many others that have been given parts.

Just a fun au I thought of and was bored.

I try my best with updates don’t come for me I am depressed😭🙏

Takes places over the 2024 F1 season, there will be no real modern drivers but some referenced. I try my best to explain the rules but you can find everything you need here-

And the playlist can be found here-

And the current standings are here-

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dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 10 - Dutch x Reader

This is it, angels! The last chapter of the Mr Van der Linde mini-fic. This has been an absolute joy to write, thank you for allowing me to indulge in my fantasy and for being the most wonderful group of enablers a writer could ever ask for. The response to this story has been much more than I expected, and I’ve had the best time sharing it with you. Thank you endlessly for your support and hype <3

It's on ao3, if you'd rather read there!

Summary: You deal with the consequences of your actions.

Word count: 9,037

Content warnings: smoking, drug use

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

You’d blocked Dutch’s number. It was the only thing left to do.

It was the first action you took upon getting on that train. You knew that if you heard his voice or read a single word from him, you’d cave.

The level of agony you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Your heart was broken, so much so that you were surprised the thing was still able to beat. All of a sudden, two of the most important people in your life were strangers. The man you loved, and your best friend.

God, you missed them.

You missed John’s laugh down the phone, or the way his eyes grew heavy after he’d had one too many drinks. You missed the way he’d snuggle into you while hungover or come and see you just so you could sit in a comfortable silence together. He was about to become a father, and there you went piling more stress onto his already heavy load.

It didn’t bear thinking about how much you missed Dutch. It was too painful to even list the things you loved the most about him, that you knew you’d never get to experience again.

It was a miracle that your other friends were still speaking to you. The boys had been quiet, siding more so with John but not quite willing to cut you out completely. The girls still got in touch with you regularly, and you weren’t sure what you’d do with yourself if they didn’t.

Abigail updated you on her pregnancy over the next few weeks, and it was like a knife to the chest at the realisation that you wouldn’t even be able to meet her baby, at least not for a long time.

She and Karen had been distraught when you announced the news that you weren’t going to attend graduation, but you’d thought it through for long enough. Everyone would be there, family members included. You daren’t even think about how awkward the whole affair would be. Not going was the most sensible thing you could do, and being sensible was at the top of your current list of priorities.

You’d received a call a week after the party from the job you interviewed for and were offered a place. Without the ability to share the news with those you wanted to hear it most, it’d only made you more depressed.

It’d taken you a few days to type out the message to John. You started off by saying you were only going to try getting in touch with him this once since you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for his forgiveness; you knew it wasn’t something you deserved. Then, you’d explained how it happened. Sparing him the details, of course, you ran through the timeline of your and Dutch's relationship and gave him the full truth. It felt false and cliché when you started talking about how you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it was true. To a point. You’d finished off by saying that you would always be there for him, should he ever decide he wanted to interact with you again. Then you clarified that you’d never expect him to and offered him one final apology.

He’d read it not long after, and you were already prepared for him not to reply, so it wasn’t too much of a bluster when it went unanswered. There was a small, naïve part of you that clung to the possibility that he could, though.

Graduation was one week away. You wanted it over with, even though you weren’t going, and had planned to take a social media break while everyone posted their smiling photos with relatives and friends.

Curled up in bed, hiding from the world under your duvet was your most recent pastime as of late, you huffed and shut the book you weren’t able to read. Ever since that day at the Van der Linde’s, you had an awful tension headache that wouldn’t shift no matter what you did. So instead, you shut your eyes, hoping you’d fall into a nap to pass the time.

After a few minutes, your phone began vibrating and with a tired grunt, you leaned over, becoming instantly more alert at the name that was on your screen.

John.

You held the phone in your hands like it would explode if you moved it too harshly, staring at the screen until the call rang out and the vibrating stopped.

It had to have been an accident. You didn’t want to deal with the awkward scenario of picking up, to be faced with a spluttering John explaining it was a mistake. Then your phone buzzed again, this time with a message.

Call me when you’re free.

It was the longest you’d gone without breathing, your body forgetting its most basic survival instinct and going into complete shock. He was finally ready to yell at you, to call you all the names under the sun and explain how badly he wished he’d never met you. You wanted to throw the whole phone away, but he deserved the chance to have a go at you if it’s what he wanted, and you took a deep breath before pressing the call button by his name.

Time had never moved as slowly as it had during the three rings that elapsed before they stopped, and then John spoke through the phone.

“Hey.”

Hearing his voice was enough to make you tear up, but you cleared your throat and willing yourself to remain steady. “Hi.”

John sighed, and you could only imagine how nauseating it was for him to have to interact with you. “Abigail said you’re not coming to graduation.”

“No, I’m not.”

He sighed again, finding his words. “That don’t seem fair.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, unable to make sense of where this conversation was going. “I don’t reckon I deserve fair,” you said, immediately hearing how self-pitying you sounded. “It’s fine, I don’t want to go anyway.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter.” After a beat of silence, your emotions got the better of you. “John, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t.” He was stern but softened his voice for his next sentence. “I know we need to talk, but not like this.”

Unsure what to say, you decided to allow John some room to speak further.

“Come to graduation. We’re all staying at the house the night before,” you knew that already, just because you didn’t respond in the group chat didn’t mean you weren’t reading the messages, “before we have to pack up and leave.”

The mere thought of being there with everyone, seeing them all with their families and then seeing Dutch too was enough to send your brain into overdrive. “I can’t.”

“It won’t be the same without you.”

You pressed your lips together, hoping to keep your composure just a little while longer. “John, I’m confused. Aren’t you mad at me? Don’t you hate me?”

“Yes. Mad at you, I mean. I don’t hate you though. Trust me, I tried to,” he sounded reluctant to admit to it. “I’ve had time to think. And I know I’ll regret it if I know I didn’t at least try to get you to come.”

“You know, I think I’d prefer it if you yelled at me.”

John laughed mirthlessly. “Part of me wants to, but... it won’t do no good.”

The silence hung between you, and despite all the things you wanted to say to him, you couldn’t find a single word.

“Look,” he began. “You still mean a lot to me. You worked hard on this degree and truthfully... I wouldn’t have got mine if it weren’t for you. I want you there with me.”

You choked, because you didn’t deserve him being so kind and he repeated your name for you to just nod, even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Sorry,” you whispered, and while it was an apology for your lack of response, you used it as a chance to let out some of the apology hoard you had stored up.

“Just come, alright? You can leave early if you want. Besides, the others want to see you too.”

After a shaky breath, you decided it was worth a shot. Even if you went to the house the night before and didn’t attend the ceremony, it was worth a try. You said you’d try to rectify it if you could, and this could be the chance to take the first few steps towards that goal. “Alright. I’ll come.”

Some of the tension dissipated through the phone, and you waited for John’s response. “Okay. See you next week.”

Then he hung up.

After the call ended, your phone navigated to the most recently used app, and you were met with your recent search history, mainly along the lines of can a person run out of tears and is anyone close to inventing time travel yet.

Had that just happened? You checked the call logs to confirm that yes, it had. John had called you. He hadn’t yelled at you. He hadn’t so much as berated you. He said you meant a lot to him. He said he wanted to talk to you and see you at graduation.

Holy shit. Your apprehension about not going was immeasurable compared with your apprehension about actually going.

The entire train journey back to university had been spent with you fidgeting, your mind going a million miles an hour at the prospect of what you were about to face. Karen and Abigail were overjoyed you’d agreed to come, and you had a sneaky suspicion Abigail had played a part in convincing John to get in touch with you, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Instead of taking a bus to your rented house like you usually would, you decided to take the walk to stretch your legs, get some fresh air, and prepare yourself for whatever greeted you when you got there.

But when you did, it still wasn’t enough time. Panic seeped into your veins and your breaths grew short, so you took a seat on the half-wall that acted as a border around your poor excuse for a front garden. No matter what, you couldn’t still your hands, and reluctantly pulled a cigarette out of the pack that resided in your pocket. You lit it, and once you were halfway done, you heard the front door open behind you.

You daren’t look around, not wanting to face whoever had caught you wallowing in your guilt.

But the door clicked shut, and footsteps down the front path preluded John taking a seat beside you.

“I thought you only smoked casually.”

“It helps,” you flicked the ash away, not meeting John’s face. “A little.”

“I see.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor with not a single clue on how to have this conversation.

“How long you plan on sitting out here?” John asked.

“Not sure,” you mumbled.

“You know you can’t stay here forever.”

After a short nod, you plucked up the courage to shift your gaze from the floor and to John. Your dismal state must’ve shown on your face, as he looked at you pitifully. “It's so fucked up,” you began, the tension needling under your skin. “I know it is, I’m so sorry. Sorrier than I know how to express.”

“I believe you.”

Why must he be so calm? Where was the John you knew, the one who’d pick a fight at the first opportunity – the one who’d slammed the door open when he’d caught you in the act? “Just yell at me or something, please. I can’t take it.”

“Don’t rightly think I can, you looking all forlorn as you are,” he hummed, drumming his fingertips on the wall.

Your face was already a permanent frown, but you felt it deepen. All you wanted to do was cry, even if that was the only thing you’d done over the past few weeks. It seemed a person couldn’t run out of tears, after all.

John edged closer, and you immediately shook your head. “No, don’t comfort me, I don’t deserve it.”

“You always do beat yourself up over stuff,” he scoffed gently.

“No, John. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“You don’t gotta keep saying that.”

“I don’t know what else I can say.”

He let out a short breath, stretching his neck out. “I do have one question for you.”

Your nod in response was almost eager, willing to answer anything he asked.

“Would you take it back if you could?

“I –” you stopped to take a breath. “Yeah, of course.”

“Funny.”

“Why funny?”

“Dad said he wouldn’t. And he said that’s what he was the sorriest about, that he’d do it all again given the chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say, your heart clutching to hear such a thing but not wanting to show it on your face. You’d wondered how he’d taken the whole thing, the urge to ask Abigail had been strong but you knew you wouldn’t have been able to bear the answer either way. It didn't bear thinking about how much you missed him.

“I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“More of a clarification.”

“Okay.”

“You really are in love with each other, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, shaking your head to look at your lap but you weren’t saying no, and John knew that. “It’s... I...” you sighed, having no more lies left in you. You met John’s concerned gaze.

“It's okay,” he reassured stiffly.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about it is okay. You mean the world to me,” you pressed your lips together to stop them from quivering as tears gathered in your eyes once more. “None of it matters now,” you added dejectedly.

John shifted beside you, finally taking his gaze away and instead planting it somewhere ahead of him. “I think it does.”

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly.

“He’s been... Well, he’s not been good. He’s sorry, to me, but mainly he’s... Heartbroken, I guess. He’s been so happy recently, we’ve all noticed it, and now he’s just... Not.”

It pained you to hear how hurt he was. Knowing you were the cause of his pain, denying him even a single word turned your stomach even more. “Oh, I’m... Sorry.”

John sighed. “I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy. That’s what means the most to me.”

“I’m sure we’ll both be fine, eventually. Like I said, it’s not important how either of us feel. We did an awful fucking thing, and I guess we both deserve to feel like shit.”

“That’s just it,” John paused as you stubbed out your cig with your foot, “maybe being happy is what you deserve.”

You glanced at him, trepidation and anxiety set into his features. He looked so much older, somehow.

“I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you. Certainly ain’t forgiven him. I’m not saying I’m your biggest fan right now, either. But I just need a bit of time to get used to it. It ain’t worth losing you,” he said pointedly. “You know what my momma said to me, before she passed?” John seldom spoke of his mother, and your ears perked up at the privilege of being his audience. “She said one day, he was gonna love someone again. Said she knew it was hard to hear, hard to imagine him moving on, but that he wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t have someone to love. He loves love. Just the way he is. She also said it’d take him a good long while, and it did – I ain’t never seen him in a relationship since her. In her eyes, that meant that when he finally did move on, it would be with someone I could trust. She told me when the time came, to trust him. And to trust that the person he chose would be someone who cared for me, someone I could rely on.”

Your eyes were brimming by that point, but you didn’t want to do him the disservice of looking away while he was being so raw.

“She was right,” John shrugged.

“You really look at what I’ve done,” you said hoarsely, fighting away a sob, “as the action of someone who cares for you? John, if I cared about you I would never have even let the thought cross my mind.”

“Alright,” he nodded, a challenge, “what about everything else you’ve done in the last few years?”

You blinked at him.

“What about when you set me up with Abigail? What about when you convinced me to carry on at uni, even though I wanted to drop out? What about all the times you’ve looked after me when I was too drunk to see? What about all those deep chats we had late at night? What about when Abigail said she was keeping the baby, and you stayed up with me half the night until I finally slept?”

You didn’t have a response for him.

“I can’t forget all of that,” he said evenly, “even if right now I am mad at you. I know you, I know that you didn’t intend to hurt me with any of this.”

“When did you get so grown up?” your face scrunched, John’s words a soothing balm over your open wounds.

“Can’t expect my kid to turn out alright if I’m still acting like one.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m not saying it won’t be weird, but... I can learn to deal with it.”

You looked at him with mild incredulity, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Again, your eyes filled up and you couldn’t stop the tears, holding your fingertips under your eyes to catch them.

John shuffled closer once again and hesitated, but then put his arm around your shoulders, and you didn’t have it in you to resist nestling into his embrace. “Goddamnit woman,” he scoffed, his voice lighter and more familiar, “will you quit crying already?”

“Can’t help it,” you sniffed.

John rested his head on top of yours and you squeezed your eyes shut, wondering what you did to deserve such a wonderful friend.

After a time, when your tears had dried and your breathing regulated, the two of you ventured inside and were greeted with the sight of your four other friends lazing around in the living room.

You looked at them sheepishly, but they smiled in response, seemingly relieved to see you and John on the way to being on good terms.

At first, it was uncomfortable. The situation was somewhat of an elephant in the room, but it didn’t seem like anyone was up for bringing up the topic. These were your final days altogether, the last remaining part of your lives that made you students. After this, while you’d remain friends, you’d never be living together all under the same roof again. You didn’t need another excuse to cry, so you didn’t spend any more time chasing that train of thought.

Eventually, the conversation flowed easier, and it was almost like you were existing in a time months ago, where you hadn’t made any terrible choices and your friends hadn’t found out about them.

“Still can’t believe we’re meeting your infamous da,” Abigail mocked Sean, who grinned back at her.

“Oh, he’s excited to meet the lot of you, too. I assured him you weren’t all a pompous bunch.”

“My dad’s coming too. Hey,” Javier pointed at you, “make sure you don’t fuck him.”

You glared at Javier, but at the snorts of laughter around the room you couldn’t help but break into a reluctantly amused smirk. “I have no intention of doing such a thing.”

“Did you have the intention to fuck Mr Van der Linde?”

“Can we not.”

Thankfully, even John was laughing, and while you thought the subject was still too tender to poke fun at, you agreed that this may be the easy way of getting it out in the open.

“Hey,” John said, “part of the deal with you fucking my dad is that we’re allowed to tease you for it.”

You shrunk into your seat. “I was not aware of that condition.”

“No? Would you like my permission to be revoked?”

You huffed, thoroughly left without a leg to stand on. “No. Fine.”

Denying John the right to hold this over you, likely for the rest of your life, wasn’t something you could do. If he had to pick on you and tease you, then you’d allow it, so long as it meant the two of you could remain friends.

The six of you settled into a familiar rhythm, laughing and joking until you were all too tired to continue.

When morning came around and you and the girls began getting ready together, your heart tugged at just how much you valued your sisterhood with them. Despite it all, they’d remained your friends, checked up on you, and attempted to provide a sense of normalcy in your life.

“Are you nervous?” Abigail spoke into the concentrated silence, all three of you working on your makeup.

You glanced in your propped-up mirror to see her reflection behind you, awaiting a response. “I assume you’re not talking about walking across the stage.”

She shook her head in the negative. Given the past few weeks, you’d had enough practice banishing thoughts of Dutch from your mind that you’d grown rather good at it. That had included today, where you’d disallowed yourself to picture the ways your reunion could play out.

“I suppose I am a little.”

“Surely you’re excited, though?” Karen added on, sounding rather excited herself.

“Why would I be?”

“Well,” she drawled, “you clearly love the man. Ain’t there a part of you eager to be all lovey-dovey with him again?”

You turned to frown at her face-on, instead of through the reflection in your mirror. “What? No - I’m not going to carry on seeing him.”

They observed you, puzzled, and Abigail decided on a response. “But I thought that was what you agreed on, with John?”

“He said he’d find a way to deal with it. He shouldn’t have to do that,” you turned back to your mirror and continued preening. “I’m not going to start things up with Dutch again,” you lamented.

They didn’t question it, but you could feel their confusion in the air. You couldn’t blame them. They decided not to probe the subject further.

Sure, John had said he’d deal with it. He’d said he wanted you both to be happy. But before all that, you vowed to yourself that you’d do anything to have a friendship with him, and would you really be true to your word if you actively extended his discomfort?

John’s blessing had been music to your ears at first. But being so forgiving was easier said than done – who's to say he wouldn’t grow to resent you, the damage to your friendship being irreparable? It wasn’t a risk you could take.

Thankfully, the ceremony was the first thing on the agenda that day. There were no awkward encounters to be had, and you got to walk across the stage without falling over and receive your degree in relative peace. Again, you’d actively pushed the prospect of seeing Dutch again out of your mind until you were forced to deal with it in real-time.

But once the ceremony was finished, it was time for everyone to socialise in the sunny courtyard while the graduates took photos with their family and friends, leaving nowhere left for you to hide. Unless...

Thanks to your newfound habit, you excused yourself once the six of you had taken a group picture, proof that you had in fact been there, and had at least waited a few minutes before running away.

There was a quiet alley round the side of the main building, the wall of which you leaned up against and brought your newly lit cigarette to your lips. It was nice to decompress, and with all that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours alone, it was nice to have some peace.

You took your time, eventually lighting a second cigarette and deciding this would not be a healthy habit to keep up.

“When did you start smoking?”

That cigarette was nearly choked into your mouth at the baritone of Dutch’s voice, one you hadn’t heard in a longer while than you cared to admit.

You had to face him at some point, you supposed. At least this wasn’t in front of a whole group of people.

Slowly, you turned, the man himself coming into view. His hands were casually in his pockets, and as always, his suit was immaculate, and hair perfectly styled. There was one noticeable difference though; he looked tired.

“Gives me an excuse to escape. Plus,” you shunted the cigarette up a bit, “I miss the taste.” You looked at his lips, the hundreds of drunken kisses the two of you had shared that always had an underlying hint of tobacco. Dutch brushed his fingertips over your hand, and you pulled away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Please, I can’t.”

“Didn’t John speak to you?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not okay with it, regardless of what he says.”

Dutch’s shoulders dropped, and he leaned on the wall opposite you. His gaze was fixed on you, and you eventually met it.

The two of you looked at each other for a short while, and it was like you could read his mind, and tell him what you were thinking and feeling without saying a single word.

You missed him, you were sorry, he missed you, he was sorry.

More than anything, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and never let go, kiss him until your lips ached, and make a home in the crook of his neck.

“You blocked my number.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had to,” you took a drag and rolled the cigarette between your fingers once you’d dropped your hand back by your side.

“Did you really? You couldn’t have at least said goodbye – after all we’ve been through?”

“Don’t make me feel bad,” your tone came out angered, and you swiftly reeled yourself in. “I couldn’t feel any worse about the whole thing if I tried. There was no other choice, not if I wanted a chance at earning back John’s friendship.”

“The way I hear it, the two of you are already getting on.”

“He’s being kind. Kinder than I deserve and we’re a long way off repairing our friendship.”

Dutch nodded, and it hurt to see the pain that’d made camp on his face.

“How are things with the two of you?”

“Long way off,” he echoed. “He didn’t speak to me for a while, but he’s starting to be civil. I’m surprised by him, truth be told.”

“Why?”

“He’s been real grown up about it all,” his lips twitched with an unmitigated fondness, “we talked it all out, and he actually listened to my side of it. That’s two of my boys out-manning me, now.”

“Is Arthur okay?” you asked at the mention of him.

“Yeah,” he said noncommittally, “not happy with me either, but can’t say I blame him. Especially not after the Molly business.”

“I did try telling him you weren’t to blame.”

“I know.” The look he gave you was grateful, and you couldn’t only imagine the grief he’d received from the two men.

It was surreal to see him standing there. You wondered if you’d even remember this conversation in a week's time, or whether it’d be some lucid recollection you wouldn’t be able to pick out words from.

“Did you hear back about that interview?”

You nodded. “They offered me a job.”

Despite his saddened expression, a glint of pride broke its way through. “Congrats. You’ll do well there, should you decide to take it.”

“Thanks.” It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d pictured in your mind before all this nasty business, instead, it’d be Dutch pulling you into a boisterous embrace and immediately coming up with a schedule to ensure the two of you saw each other regularly enough.

His pained eyes glanced down your form and made their way back up to your face. The crease between his brows was permanently etched there now, it seemed.

“I’m sorry they found out that way,” he said.

“Me too. I don’t blame you for it.”

“Please,” he took a hesitant step towards you. “Reconsider. Is it not worth us trying, at least? John’s okay with it -”

“He is not. He’s only saying that because he feels obliged.”

“That’s not true, he came to me to talk about it, said he wants us to be together -”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds? Why would he want his father and b- friend to be in a relationship?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” John’s voice broke into your conversation as he strolled over to the pair of you, “but my ears were burning.”

You both just looked at him, simmering back into your own spaces – it wasn’t a conscious decision to edge closer to Dutch.

“You’re arguing,” he observed.

“I -” you sighed, itching your brow, and abandoned your unformed sentence in favour of another drag from your cigarette.

“This is meant to be a happy day,” Dutch said guiltily.

“No, I know. I think I should go –”

“No,” John put a hand on each of your shoulders, stopping you from walking away from the situation. “Look, I’ll be honest, I’m tired of him moping,” he gestured his head towards his father.

Dutch slipped the cigarette from between your fingers and brought it to his mouth for a long drag. It was like static where his skin had brushed against yours, and your eyes lingered on his lips as he took a drag. He went to hand it back to you, but you shook your head.

“Keep it.”

“And I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself,” he narrowed his eyes at you, before looking between you both once more. “You shouldn’t have done what you did. You shouldn’t have gone behind my back for so long.”

The pair of you glanced at each other, scolded but in agreement with him.

“But I understand why you did. For the pair of you to do this, to take it this far – it must be something genuine.”

More genuine than you cared to admit. Being without Dutch was like being without a limb.

“You deserve the chance to test it out in the open. Ideally,” he huffed in mild amusement, “not too open. I don’t wanna watch you canoodling. But still. You do have my blessing,” he squeezed your shoulder, “and I’m not just saying that. I’ve thought about it, and I mean it.”

There were no words, so you rested your hand over John’s that was still planted on his shoulder.

“Thank you, son,” Dutch said, his voice cracking despite his hardened demeanour.

“Now,” John lightened his tone and the mood, “from what I hear they’re about to open the bar. And I don’t know about either of you but I sure as hell need a drink.”

“I sure do,” you agreed quietly, and Dutch beckoned for the two of you to proceed, and you all made your way over to the bar.

After John’s talk, you began to settle into the idea of trying again with Dutch. You were still hesitant, but since Dutch had reminded you to unblock his number, he’d messaged you regularly and gently brought you around to the idea.

So, you’d started talking more frequently, general chitchat and while it wasn’t quite the same, you found yourself valuing his conversation much more than you had previously. Still, you were hesitant to visit him, but Dutch agreed to ease back into the relationship, and going long periods without seeing him wasn’t an alien concept to you considering that’d been the norm for over two years.

It was only a few more weeks until John messaged the group chat saying Abigail had gone into labour, and he’d sent you a private message saying it might be a good time for you to go to his house, considering nobody would be there and you could have some alone time together.

Dutch too had messaged you, and you allowed your chest to grow warm at the thought of them colluding to convince you to come round. He’d confirmed the house was empty save for him, Tilly spending half of her summer staying at Arthur and Charles’ place.

You decided to bite the bullet and agreed, getting the train that same day before you had a chance to chicken out. Unsurprisingly, Dutch stood firm in his decision to pick you up from the station.

The car journey to his house had been quiet, the two of you not knowing where you stood or how to approach the situation. Arriving at his house and seeing the big stone driveway was enough to make your heartbeat quicken, the memory of your last visit resurfacing.

Dutch had made you a hot drink, and the two of you were sat outside in the late evening summer sun, thankful for the chirping birds that filled the silence.

“If you’re uncomfortable, please tell me. I’ll take you home, and I won’t be offended,” he said gently.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you settled him, “it’s just a little strange as all. Didn't think I'd ever be here again.”

After a long sigh, Dutch shifted in his seat, angling himself towards you as though he had a secret he wanted only you to hear. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “A plan for what?”

“Making you a little more comfortable.”

“Let’s hear it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt.

You couldn’t resist laughing, looking at him in shock. “You want to get high?”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you began, though no reason came to mind why you shouldn’t. “Because - is that a good idea?”

“Course. Might help us loosen up a little.” His charming smile made you feel all fuzzy – his under eyes were less dark than when you’d seen him last and he looked overall more like himself. He was dressed down in a t-shirt and jeans, and you were appreciative of the delightful view of those hairy forearms of his.

“I didn’t even know you got high.”

“Where do you think John gets it?”

“You sell drugs?” your face shifted from shocked to understanding, “no wonder you’re so rich.”

“I do not sell drugs.”

“No. Just to your son?”

“No, I don’t want him buying overpriced shit from some sketchy dealer. If he’s going to do drugs, he’s going to at least do good drugs. Besides, I don’t support the criminalisation of it.”

“Right,” you laughed, not wanting to spur him onto his well-worn soap box. “Well then,” you plucked it from his fingers to rest it between your teeth and reached into his pocket where you knew he kept his lighter, relishing in the tensing of his thighs, and flicked it on to light the end of the joint. “Let us not waste any time.”

You blew out the smoke and handed it to him, his face looking close to boyish with his grin in response. “I like your attitude.” Dutch took an inhale of his own, and either you really did have a thing for guys when they smoked or this was some strong stuff, because you began to feel all tingly.

Relaxing back on the bench, you took in the view of the garden and tipped your head back, allowing the sun to graze over your face. “I have missed being here.”

“I’ve missed having you here,” Dutch said, and you cracked an eye open at him, to see him observing you fondly. “I’m glad, in a way.”

“About what?”

“It happening the way it did.”

“Why?”

“We don’t have to hide it any longer,” he rested his arm on the bench behind you, “the sneaking around was growing tiresome.”

“I suppose,” you took the blunt from him and brought it to your lips. “Still, not sure I’ll ever recover from that look on John’s face.”

“Let’s not go back there right now. I’ve spent too much time in that space recently.”

You handed the joint back to him thoughtfully. “Has your mental health been okay?”

Dutch chuckled knowingly. “It has not. Thankfully, I’ve learnt to recognise the unhealthy thought patterns, and I was on a higher dose of medication for a while.”

“You’re not now?”

“No,” he shook his head, blowing out the smoke. “After John’s talk, after I could speak to you again – it all calmed down.”

“I see. I’m sorry you were suffering.”

“That’s alright,” he shrugged, passing the joint over to you. Dutch was going to say something else when your phone buzzed, and you pulled it from your pocket, expression brightening at what greeted you on the screen.

“Congratulations are in order,” you tilted the screen towards him, and he looked over your shoulder at the photo of a baby clutched in Abigail’s arms with John leaning over, a tired grin on his face.

Dutch’s face softened into excitement, and he took his reading glasses from his pocket to place them on his face and get a better look. “Oh my, look at that.”

Another photo came through, a close-up of the baby accompanied by a message from John sent to the group chat.

Jack’s here. Abigail had a tough delivery, but she was great, and we now officially have a healthy son. Can’t wait for you all to meet him.

Very to the point, and very on-brand for John. “Jack,” you crooned, “that’s lovely.”

Dutch patted his pocket, scoffing. “My phone’s in the kitchen, let me go text him.”

“You remember the weed, but not your phone while your grandson is being born?”

“Oh hush,” he muttered as he walked into the house.

He returned a few minutes later, while you’d messaged your congratulations along with the rest of your friends.

“How’s it feel to be a grandfather?”

“Good, oddly enough,” Dutch settled beside you, noticeably closer than he had been previously, but you didn’t mind. He took the joint from you and had a couple of drags.

“He’s gorgeous,” you smiled, and the two of you settled into a rhythm of smoking and chatting while the sun bathed you in its rays.

It was a lovely evening, and it wasn’t long before the joint was burnt out and you’d slowly slipped to be nestled into Dutch’s side, his head resting on yours and fingertips running over your palm. The two of you remained like that, fully relaxed and happy just to be near each other, the odd shift in position the only thing to break the peaceful silence.

The movement of Dutch’s fingers had transmuted to the brushing of his palm up your arm, and you tilted your head to look at him. His hands felt so good, so firm and warm, his rings leaving a cool trail in their wake.

He glanced down at you, face content, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was.

“I’m hungry.”

“I can order -”

You cupped his jaw and attached your lips to his, not sure you could wait a single moment longer. The two of you still hadn’t shared a kiss since you’d arrived, and the weeks of longing to have his lips on yours had been agonising.

“Oh,” he said once you’d pulled away.

You laughed softly, edging closer despite already being pressed up against him. His eyes had already grown hungry too, and you realised you weren’t hungry at all. You were ravenous.

The two of you demanded the next kiss at the same time, one not nearly enough to make up for all those you’d missed out on. He gripped your waist, and you twisted your hand into the collar of his shirt, the two of you not willing to part with the taste of each other's mouths.

“Darlin’,” he breathed when you both finally surfaced for air, and you touched the tip of your nose to his. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed that.”

“Believe me,” you pecked the corner of his mouth, “I do.”

He ran a hand over your hair and tilted his head when your expression turned devious. “Do I even want to ask?”

You shook your head and stood, leaving him still leaning forward where your body was now absent. “I’d rather show.”

With that you walked into the house, Dutch’s rushed and uneven footsteps soon following behind.

“What are we doing?” he said, excited, as you led him towards the study.

Once there, you sat on his desk and parted your legs. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

“Oh,” he smirked and stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his hair and visibly less rigid thanks to the herbs in his system.

His eyes were fixed on the spot between your thighs as he stalked towards you, reaching his hands out and gripping your thighs once he was close enough, pulling them even further apart and growling from his chest as he nestled his crotch between them. You bit down on your lip when you felt how hard he was, becoming acutely aware of how much wetter you were than usual, likely a mix of your heightened senses and the given circumstance.

“I do admire your thoroughness, miss,” he murmured into your ear, trailing his lips over your lobe and down your neck.

You sighed weakly into the air and let your eyes fall shut, thighs attempting to tighten around him, but his grip was like iron as he kept your thighs in place. Then his lips were gone, and you opened your eyes to see that he was too. You looked down to find him knelt between your legs. “Thirsty?” you teased, and he grinned up at you, black pupils taking up almost all of his iris’.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he pushed the material of the dress up your legs and nuzzled his nose into your mound. “I do love you in a summer dress,” he murmured, and you could feel the vibrations from his baritone.

Dutch chuckled at your feeble attempt of pushing your hips closer to him, not relenting with his grip.

“Don’t worry sweet girl, I don’t have it in me to tease you right now.”

There was no time to answer before his mouth was on you, pressing over the wet material of your underwear. Dutch licked up your slit, tangling his tongue with the fabric and you whined, placing your hands behind you on the cool wood of his desk.

“That’s it,” he said, taking your underwear between his teeth to move it to the side, “let me hear you.”

You glanced down at him, the infatuation plain on his face as he stared at your dripping pussy. “What happened to not teasing me?”

“This is not teasing. Do you want to see teasing?”

“Dutch,” you warned, and he could hear the seriousness filter through your playful tone.

“Not tonight,” he decided, and dived right into his favourite meal.

Dutch kissed and sucked your skin, the responsiveness of your pussy providing him with more hydration than he could manage to take in, but he appeared up for the challenge. Gentle flicks of his tongue over your clit turned into a deep drag of it over your inner walls and you gasped his name repeatedly as he thoroughly lavished you with his tongue.

Your ecstatic orgasm came around fast, and you were sure you didn’t breathe for a minute straight as he drank up all you could give him. His hands had you trapped in place so you were powerless to buck your hips and instead had to let it all go right there, and Dutch was panting when he removed his mouth from you.

“Du -”

He pulled you into a kiss by the back of your neck, using his other hand to undo his jeans and shuck them down far enough to pull out his cock and ease into your accommodating cunt.

“Good lord,” he groaned, unable to focus on kissing you as your walls tensed, begging for his cock to never leave the home it found itself nestled in. “I never,” he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger once he’d pulled himself together, “want to go so long without your pussy again.”

“Deal,” you kissed him, spotting the small window of opportunity while he was distracted to pull your legs from his grip and wrap them around his hips, coaxing him even further in and he let out a pained whimper.

His hands grabbed the swell of either side of your ass, experimentally offering a few slight thrusts, but the sensation was enough to drive you wild. His thick cock felt perfect, and you mused whether that was the extra limb you’d been missing all this time.

The small thrusts turned to longer, languid ones that had you whining, Dutch obsessive with the way he clung to your body and began fucking you stupid.

Nothing else mattered aside from the euphoric pleasure racing through your body, being drilled into and marked by Dutch in what you assumed was every way he could think of. Nips to your collarbones, fingertips digging into your flesh, pussy fucked so deeply the skin felt raw. You didn’t care. The two of you were together again, and as was always the case when you fell into each other’s arms, the world was right again.

“Shit,” Dutch grunted, blinking his eyes tightly as he watched himself disappear into you at a reckless pace, now not the time for tender loving. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your nose against his neck and breathing in the sheen of sweat on his skin. He was being greedy, his brain chasing one thing, the only thing that mattered at that moment. “It’s like you were made for me,” he began to babble to himself, and you knew he was close, so you held your own approaching orgasm until he was ready, “you’re so perfect, s-so fucking -”

Even words began to fail him as your body overtook every one of his thoughts, and that was a sentiment you shared as he fucked you deep and you cried out Dutch, because what other words were there?

He came hard, leaking into you as he pressed his hips forward, the desk jolting with the motion and you allowed your release to finally come too. His hands searched for an anchor, landing on the small of your back as he held you to him until he was completely empty.

The air around the two of you hummed, your bodies becoming soft and pliant at the familiar comfort of having your arms wrapped around each other. Eventually, each of you inched away to get a good look at the other.

Dutch’s eyelids were heavy, lips still shining with the remnants of you, and his hair had fallen around his face. He took in the view of you too and relaxed into a content smile, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, a tender act considering how hard he’d just defiled you. Neither of you had anything to say that would surmount the feelings you were experiencing in that moment.

So, you remained silent, breathing in one another until you were finally ready to face him pulling out.

As he tidied himself up, you leaned back on his desk and glanced to the side of his desk, noticing a picture frame. You took it in your hands and laughed minimally at the subject of the photo. “I can’t believe you have a picture of me here but not John.”

Despite the situation, Dutch'd made sure you get a photo with you at your graduation, you not realising he’d intended for it to take pride of place on his (now tainted) desk.

“I look better in this photo,” he said matter-of-factly. His expression softened when you raised your brows in questioning. “Or, perhaps you just make me look good.”

You shook your head, for him to shrug himself of judgement and join you in admiring the photo after he’d planted a kiss on your forehead.

It was true; you did look good together.

You’d intended to only stay at Dutch’s for a few days but found yourself not wanting to leave his side. In the end, you’d gone home for a single night to grab more stuff and made your way back to him first thing the next morning.

The day finally came when Abigail and John returned, and you watched them from the window as they made their way up the driveway, a carrier in hand. Dutch’d been fretting about the nursery – which the blue spare room had been turned into, and you were glad you hadn’t needed to part with ‘your’ room even if you did stay in Dutch’s - and whether it had everything it needed, despite already buying far too much stuff. Little Jack was surely going to be spoilt.

While you were overjoyed to get to spend so much time with the baby, Abigail and John were also happy to have you and Dutch on hand to take over when they needed a break, you ended up returning home for a time after being there for a couple of weeks, the start date at your new job just around the corner.

Since you spent the majority of your time working from home, it didn’t matter whether you stayed at your house or Dutch’s. Not wanting to rush too much into your relationship, or crowd the new family under the roof, you and Dutch agreed to a few nights a week at his place, then you'd spend the rest of it at yours. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t attempt to convince you to stay one extra night every time you had to leave, though.

Being around John while staying with his father had been awkward at first. But soon, as with all change, it became the new normal. It was nice, really, having him and Abigail so close by. It hadn’t taken long for Jack to become your favourite member of the family.

It was a few months down the line, and the Van der Linde house was full. John had worked through his nerves, but having family on hand, he’d begun taking fatherhood in his stride. He’d been grateful for you too, and you couldn’t deny that you were secretly pleased about having the advantage of the chance to be Jack’s favourite Auntie, aside from Tilly of course.

You were all in the garden after Dutch’d done a small barbeque, you stood by the table bobbing little Jack in your arms. “I do love being an auntie,” you expressed to the group, infatuated with the baby’s gorgeous cheeks.

Abigail turned to you; her face pensive. “Wouldn’t you be his step-grandma?”

Not that you’d expected anything less, but even Abigail had taken to the now-popular hobby of teasing you. Somehow, even Dutch had gotten in on the action. He snickered, John’s laugh echoing from the kitchen (his selective hearing was truly a wonder) before he walked outside and gave Abigail a proud kiss on the head.

“Isn’t your momma just the funniest?” you said down to Jack, after taking an offended pause.

She grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

Eventually, you’d parted with your nephew (no, he was not your step-grandson no matter what anyone said) and began taking the plates into the kitchen, loading them up into the dishwasher.

Dutch seized the opportunity to pat your ass as you were bent down, and you scoffed at him. “Perv.”

He laughed easily, bringing in the cutlery and loading it in himself. After you’d turned on the washing machine, you both took to watching the small family through the window, sitting on a mat on the grass and marvelling at Jack who’d recently learnt how to roll over.

“Now that kid will be a genius,” hummed Dutch, and you tutted at him.

“Will you leave the poor boy alone before you start locking him up with the books?”

Dutch ran his hands around your waist, holding you comfortably from behind, his warm and inviting torso a perfect cushion for your back. “I’ve half a mind to lock you up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry – do I not allocate enough time to you?” you quipped, and he chuckled into your hair.

“Not nearly enough to satiate me.”

You tsked through your teeth, resting your hands on top of his.

“I’m serious,” he added, and you glanced round to catch his eye.

“Oh, come on, what now?”

“I’ve been thinking...”

“I’ve learnt to view that sentence as a warning.”

Dutch’s eyes crinkled with his amusement, and he placed a kiss on your temple. “All I’m saying is I would love to have you here permanently. I say it not as a demand, not for something to do right now, but something to let brew in that wonderful mind of yours.”

“And you say I’m the one always jumping to the next step,” you kissed him sweetly, and he tightened his hold around you as you looked back out the window.

“It’s a mere suggestion, darlin’. Something for you to ponder when you find yourself bored.”

All you could do was smirk, this irrevocably charming man always willing to prove his need to have, which you’d deduced was just another name for a more potent form of desire; a thing he seemed to have in bucket-loads for you. You rested your head back against him, revelling in the promise of comfort and belonging that kept you company whenever you found yourself in his arms.

“Whatever you say, Mr Van der Linde.”

a/n: hopefully none of you need the reminder but pls don't fuck your best friend's dad, author does not condone it. also I know Dutch would probably be an absolute nightmare on weed given his paranoia, but in this universe that’s not a thing because I don't want it to be :)

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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