#f!dakota x Mc

[cadybear420]

Dark Pact: Dakota Winchester and Sage Amin's Silly Little Ghost Movie 👻💙

AKA the screenshots from the game of their film. It's like 50 screenshots total, so I'm going to make it a reblog thread with indicators about whether or not it's at the end

[eveomo]

bounties and blessings - arthur morgan x f!reader

chapter 1 (SFW, will probably be edited in the future)

next chapter -> 2

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : after meeting a seemingly dangerous yet kind outlaw during a bounty, your world seems to get turned upside down after you can't seem to stop running into each other. could this be the beginning of something you've both been longing for?

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings/tags : MINORS MAY INTERACT WITH SFW CHAPTERS (NSFW WILL BE TAGGED), depictions of violence, arguments, angst, eventual smut, unprotected piv sex, guns, gun violence, swearing, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, soft arthur, animal death, PTSD, mentions/depictions of abuse, attempted SA (very brief and for plot purposes only), NO PREGNANCY, NO BABIES, MC isnt a frail weak girl who constantly needs saving, often grammatically incorrect (probably)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : arthur morgan x f!reader, no use of y/n, reader changes the plot for the better

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 1.9k

posted to AO3 here

It was a blazing summer day, sweat collecting along the brim of your hat as you rode your palomino arabian into Valentine, slowly making your way to the sheriff's office. As you approach the front of the decrepit building, you swing your foot over the saddle and dismount, grabbing the reins to hitch your horse. 

You pulled your bandana up a touch higher and pulled your hat down to cover your eyes before entering the building. Approaching the board, you scan for any bounties that would truly be worth your while. Then, your eyes caught a poster. 

$75 for some idiot that decided to shoot a rancher's son and a lawman for one cow? Easy money. Was it the biggest bounty you’d ever done? Absolutely not, but it offered more money than anything else pinned to the board. You tore it down and folded it before shoving it into your pocket and nodding at the guard seated at the front of the office. Turning on your heel, you exited the building and mounted your horse. 

          “You ready for some fun girl?” Patting her golden coat, you clicked your tongue and tapped your heels to get her moving. As you rode, you reached back to grab your canteen, guzzling down at least half of it with your horse huffing underneath you. 

          “It’s hot ain’t it, Lenora?” You soothed, petting her mane as you kicked your heels once again to get her into a gallop, welcoming the breeze on your face as you rode. Turning off the path, you began to wind and turn throughout the forest, seeking the abandoned cabin the man you were after was hiding in. Your heart skipped a beat as you spotted it in the distance, excited to have some income once again after having to run from the law after a bar fight gone wrong in another town. Having finally arrived at your destination just north of the Dakota River, you dismount and leave Lenora in the brush, sighing as you pull your bandana over your face and retrieve the lasso attached to your black leather saddle. 

Taking effortlessly light steps, you approach the back end of the cabin before hearing two other voices just west of your location. You crouch behind a broken down wagon sitting in the field surrounding the home as you take a deep breath and tune into the words drifting towards you through the wind. 

          “John, if you’re messin’ with me after last time I’ll give you a real reason to run from camp.” One gruff voice huffs out, while another insists that he saw something duck behind a wagon. Your eyes narrow and you peek your head around the wheel, deciding the coast was clear before darting out and crouching down below a window next to the back entrance. Confident that you were going to secure this bounty before unwanted competition appeared, you darted up to peek into the window, seeing your target shine his gun. Quietly, you edge the door open before taking light steps towards the balding man. With an incredible speed, you grab your revolver from your holster and knock the man unconscious with the grip. 

Letting out a pleased hum, you put your gun back in its holster and grab the lasso from your side and begin to secure him tightly. Before you can truly process the creaking of floorboards, you whip out your gun and turn around, pulling back the safety and pointing the barrel at the intruder's head. Unsurprisingly, the sight of a barrel pointing in between your eyes greeted you. 

         “‘Scuse me Miss, I don’t mean to be a bother but I think you’ve got some’n that belongs to me and my friend out there.” The man speaks first, a deep gruff voice with a clear southern drawl. You sized him up quickly, he was tall and broad, a blue button up with a brown leather jacket, a clearly very old hat concealing his head of hair, and a black bandana covering the rest of his face. Obviously another bounty hunter or an outlaw. 

Scoffing, you reply, “Clearly, Mister, this dope here is comin’ back with me. I knocked him out, I tied him up.” you emphasized, pointing behind you. Taking a step closer, you point the end of your gun closer to his head. “I’ve killed men much bigger than you for much less than this.” You watch his eyes narrow as he sizes you up, making you shudder. Admittedly, you were nervous. Somehow you had forgotten that there were others nearby, focusing on being quiet and quick rather than paying attention to your surroundings, and in front of you was a very large, clearly much stronger than you, man. 

          “Look, darlin’. You hand ‘em over, and the three of us can split it. Whatddya say?” One of his eyes squints while the other remains the same, revealing his hidden smirk. 

          “If you think you’re gonna intimidate me into splitting a $15 bounty, you’ve got me mistaken, sir.” Before he can think to answer, his friend calls out. 

         “Arthur! What’s taking so damn long in there? Thought’chu said it’d be empty!” As he looks to the side, you take his momentary distraction as an opportunity to pull a throwing knife from your thigh and dart around him, wrapping your arm around his throat and pulling him to the ground, disarming him and knocking his hat off in the process. He grunted with surprise as you pressed the blade to his jugular and leaned down to whisper in his ear. 

          “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Arthur. Unless you want to bleed out right here, yer gonna get up, walk out, and tell yer little friend that my friend over here-“ you nod your head to the direction of the still unconscious man laying tied up on the floor “-wasn’t here and y’all need to search for some other bounty. Whaddya say?” You drawl, mocking him for his earlier offer. He chuckles lightly before removing his instinctive grip from your arms and raising his in front of him in defeat. 

          “Alright, girl. You got me, okay? We’ll be outta yer hair now.” He grunts as you remove your vice grip from his throat and sheath your knife back into its strap, allowing him to stand. He picked his hat back up and placed it on his head, and then retrieved his revolver from across the room. As he did so, you heaved the large, unconscious man over your shoulder with a grunt and gestured for the outlaw to leave first. 

         “Damn girl, you are one strong lady.” Arthur comments with a laugh, shaking his head as he walks out with his hands up in an attempt to make you trust him. You roll your eyes and watch as he takes a step to leave before stopping. You raise a brow and sigh frustratedly. This wasn’t your first time fighting over a bounty, but the result of this particular conflict left your hands clean and your mind confused. 

          “What are ya doin? Git!” Your free hand falls down to your side, hovering over your gun holster, shooting a heated look in the outlaws direction. 

He scoffed before answering, “Would you relax? Was gonna ask if you was all alone out here.” 

You laughed and shook your head.

“Why on earth would I tell you that?” You’re not stupid, you know he could’ve killed you if he had wanted to, but he didn't. It’s not that you aren’t strong, in fact you were very strong,  but when you had him on the ground it wasn't hard to tell how abnormally strong he was. It would’ve taken nothing to pull your arm away and either stab or shoot you, but he didn’t. Why?

          “I dunno, maybe you’re lonely out here. You’re clearly strong,” he chuckles when he says this, gesturing to the man on the floor behind you, “but it ain’t very safe for a lady out in these parts.” He shrugged, seemingly trying to figure out why he even asked in the first place. He didn’t seem the type to care all that much about the going ons in other people’s lives, in fact he seemed like he would otherwise be guarded and closed off. 

        “I ain’t no lady, sir. I’ve done a lot of very bad things to a lot of people. Good and bad.” You shook your head, and continued. “It ain’t very safe for anyone out in these parts. Everyone robbin’, killin’, shootin’, I ain’t the only one that has to look out for myself.” With a sigh, you place your gun back in your holster. ‘Is this guy leaving soon or what?’ you think to yourself. He seems to think about what you’re saying for a minute, pulling down his bandana to scratch at his stubble. And oh, oh god. He’s hot. So hot you swear the colour drained from your face and immediately came back as a bright red. Your breath hitches in your throat and you clear your throat.

         “Well, I s’pose that’s true. Bye now, ma’am.” He speaks, snapping you out of your brief trance. You watch as he leaves, nodding at you as the door shuts behind him. You wait about 2 minutes to see if ‘Arthur’ and his friend ‘John’ would re-enter the small cabin, guns drawn. However, they didn’t, and so you secure the unconscious man onto the back of your Arabian, and leave.

𐂂

Truthfully, Arthur didn’t want to hurt a woman, whether she was pointing a gun at him or not. He could tell that she was bluffing the moment he unholstered his gun and pointed it right back at her, too clear that she wouldn’t have shot him unless he tried to hurt her. This worried him, why isn’t her first instinct to kill an intruder, especially a male intruder? Besides this, the gang could use someone who was strong, capable, and actually stealthy. You would be perfect for late-night stagecoach robberies, silently slinking into barns while someone else distracted the homeowner. Even if this was true, he knew Mrs. Grimshaw would be quick to make you clean laundry and chop vegetables. 

“Arthur! Are you even listening to me?” John speaks, interrupting his thoughts. 

“No.” Arthur replies cheekily, looking at John under the brim of his hat. He wasn’t listening, how could he? He had just missed an incredible opportunity to bring someone useful to the camp, and he didn’t. 

“I was asking what happened with that bounty, asshole.” John scoffed, riding alongside Arthur on their way back to camp, $50 sitting in each of their pockets from a couple street robberies. 

Arthur sighed before speaking, “There was a girl, she got to him first.”

“And you just left? Let her take him?” Astounded, John shakes his head and picks up his pace. “What is happenin’ to you, Arthur Morgan? Lettin’ some girl take our bounty?” 

“What’d you want me to do John, shoot ‘er? Dutch told us to keep a low profile, not to go around killin’ young girls for a $75 bounty.” He scoffed, hearing voices appear in the distance and the rather unappetizing scent of Pearson's stew. Whatever John said next, he didn’t hear.   Arthur hitched his horse and strode over to the collection box, giving $30 and keeping $20 before retreating to his tent and bedroll for the night. He kicked off his boots and sat down, retrieving his journal from his messenger bag to write about his day. He pondered what to write about, but he already knew. 

He wanted to write about you. 

PLEEEEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS!!! i really struggle w accurately writing characters to how they are !!! if anything is corny/needs changes LET ME KNOW!! ok love u all hope u enjoyed!! chapter 2 should hopefully be out by next week<3

(also pls like + reblog ok thanks BAIIIII)

[where-the-wind-travels]

participating again! pinky promise i won't be late with whoever is my match this time 😭🥺

a few notes: my gift doesn't necessarily have to be about my pairings, while i do prefer that it can also be about just my mcs or about their more platonic relationships with other characters + can also be about other mcs/pairings not listed here, not just my top 3!

my current top 3 —

Raida Pearce (Bloodbound F!MC) x Adrian Raines (Face 3/Native American) x Jax Matsuo, tag: #mc: raida pearce — all of them are dating each other, not just Raida dating Adrian and Jax separately.

Darlene Murphy (OG High School Story NB!OC, they/she) x Giselle Zhou (transfem!Aiden Zhou), tags: #oc: darlene murphy & #oc: giselle zhou

Amethyst Grimes (It Lives Within NB!MC, they/them) x Lincoln Aquino, tag: #mc: amethyst grimes — Blood ending, everyone survives.

image references below the cut <3

RAIDA — appearance & style:

DARLENE & GISELLE — sprites & style:

(yes, i am very much aware i just used dakota winchester for giselle, been trying to figure out how to make her actually look more like aiden 😭)

AME — appearance & style:

Our 2024 Secret Pal Exchange is here!

The dates of the event are TBD: you can vote here. December 21-22 is leading. Whatever is leading by the end of day Nov. 30 EST will be what we choose.

What it is:

Simply put, it's secret Santa

Everyone who shows interest in participating will be given a secret pal for whom they should create a small work (drabble, art, edit, moodboard, etc).

How to participate:

Reblog this post stating your interest AND include your top 3 books/characters/pairings to help guide the person who receives you as their pal on what they should create for you (reblogs that do not include a top 3 will not be considered entries for participation)

or, message me here (@choicesfandomappreciation) or at @lovealexhunt stating your interest and include your top 3 picks

Note: When listing your interests, please include any preferred gender/pronouns/race or other customizations you may have

Please only sign up to participate if you plan to follow through and create for your pal

If there is a user or a particular sub fandom (ie-Open Heart), that you don't want to create for, just send me a message—no questions asked, no judgement. I'm happy to do whatever I can to make the event safe and welcoming for all!

The deadline to sign up to participate is December 6th

What comes next:

On, or about, December 7th, I will message you with your secret pal and what they listed as their top 3 interests

You create something for them based on their interests and post it for them from December ####* (date open to change based on poll)

It would also be really nice if you could include a brief positive message of encouragement and/or support with your creation for your match

Please tag @choicesfandomappreciation and #ChoicesSecretPal24 well so I can keep track of who posted and who is missing.

If you have any questions please do not hesitate to reach out. It should be a wonderful event that spreads joy and cheer in our fandom. ❤️❤️❤️

[talasintahan]

that one time i planned to make an f!dakota x mc art to mcr's cancer. i'm not going to finish it so here's the (unfinished) inital sketch lol

[alleycat97]

Star Dust (1)

Warned y’all about the spam! This is an Au version of With Every Heartbeat! It’ll have a few parts!

f!Dakota x Mc (Sage)

Tag list: @samanthadalton @fundamentalromantic​ @kwaj05 @penda-bear @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton @shows-simp-card @obsessedwithtragedy @stardustmountain @iamsimpforpoppy​ hmu for the tag or if you wanna be removed.

College graduation had arrived. That previous 4 years simultaneously flew by and drug on for Sage. She stayed local and went to Massachusetts, a decision she was grateful for. It hadn’t been the easiest journey since Dakota’s passing, but she was making it.

She had made new friends at school and kept her mind occupied on extra curricular’s. Sage still lingered around the topic of dating and Mateo and Lennox still called once in awhile, but life started to take over for all of them. However, there was still one time a year when Sage completely shut down and locked herself away from the world.

Dakota’s Anniversary. It happened to fall a day after her graduation and it really dampened her entire mood.

“Sage? You going to the big grad party tomorrow night?” Remi asked a very ill looking Sage.

“Remi!” Carson quietly hissed pulling the girl aside. “You know what tomorrow is.”

“Yeah? The big party?”

Carson sighed and made sure Sage wasn’t listening, “No! It’s the 4 year anniversary of her girlfriends passing. Every year she locks herself away and doesn’t talk to anyone. I guess she’s starting early.”

“Oh for goodness sakes, Sage!” Marley said stomping over from the kitchen. “You aren’t doing this again! This is our last big party before we all go our separate ways!”

“Marley!” Carson yelled at the bold statement.

“Stay out of it Carson. Stop playing peacemaker for her. We are all suite mates and I’m not going to let this negative vibe thing you got going on Sage keep ruining you.”

Sage kept still on the couch, not really listening, but just thinking back to her last day with Dakota. She saw Marley’s mouth moving but nothing was coming out.

“It was 4 years ago! Let it go! I know it still hurts but you’re just killing yourself. You grieved! It’s time to move on! She would want you to!”

“Ok Marley I think you said enough.” Remi stepped in with Carson.

Sage caught the last of Marley’s rant and it killed her to admit that she was right, so she simply met the eyes of her best friends and nodded that she would go.

The next night Carson kept close to Sage, trying to convince the girl it was ok to grieve and to stay home if she wanted. Sage pushed it aside and mainly sat at the bar all evening. Listening to her classmates hoop and holler, music thudding through her core.

She opted for the sparkling cider and mocktails because they were Dakota’s favorite. Alcohol wasn’t Sage’s friend and even it’s wicked power of mind erasing, Sage wasn’t into it. She just sipped her drinks and looked through her albums of her and Dakota, counting down to the exact time she had passed.

“Hey darlin? Wanna dance?” A preppy male voice called standing over Sage.

“Not interested.” She replied coldly.

“Come on sweet cheeks, let’s party!” He tried again.

“I said no.” Sage never looked his way. She wouldn’t give this guy the satisfaction of entertaining the idea.

“Hey doll!” The boy said snatching Sage’s phone, finally getting her attention.

“Give it back!” Sage hissed.

“Give me a kiss.” He laughed leaning down towards Sage.

“You’re drunk.” Sage backed away at the putrid odor.

“Awwww look guys! Is that you and your girlfriend?” He said looking at Sage’s Lock Screen. “You guys look like a couple of bald freaks!”

Sage snapped and smacked this goon so hard his head should have spun around. He shook off the hit and slammed the phone to the floor, shattering it into pieces.

“My phone!” Sage winced out before looking back to the goon who decided to throw a punch towards Sage that connected below her eye. It was a weak throw, mainly due to his inebriated state, but it still hurt and Sage, trying not to tumble and cry, found her foot resting firmly between the goons legs, sending him to the floor.

“Sage!” The girls come rushing over after the commotion, “Are you alright?”

“My phone....” She whimpered trying to collect the pieces.

Carson and the girls helped pick up the pieces and they apologized to Sage over and over while leaving.

“Hey! Wait up ladies!” A man called out catching them outside.

“Listen, tell your friend we will sue if he tries anything else, my dad is a lawyer. Hell, he will be hearing from him anyway for hitting Sage.” Marley barked out getting in the guys face.

“Easy easy. I’m just here to give her this.” The man extended Marley a roll of cash.

“This is $2500?” Marley spoke.

“Yeah. Some to get a new phone and the rest is just to say sorry. Don’t worry we took it from his wallet. It’s the least we could do.”

“Well. Thanks, now scram.” Marley hissed waving her hand in annoyance.

The suite mates made it home and Sage locked herself in her room. She looked at her luggage in the corner all ready to go and then to her smashed phone. This was Dakota’s night and she couldn’t even relive her memories through her phone. Stupid jerk she thought. $2500 wasn’t near enough to fix the emotional strain he caused.

Sage figured there was nothing left at school now, she graduated and it was best if she left as soon as possible. She had to get back to Boston to see Dakota.

She checked her watch, it was late but she didn’t care. She wrote up three farewell notes to each suite mate, thanking them for their awesome four years and wished them good luck. She heard the suite go quiet and taped the notes to their doors and took her luggage with her. It took a trip or two to load her car but she got it without waking anyone.

The road late at night was calm and peaceful. It was just her and her thoughts. She could finally mourn Dakota without interruption. But her eye continued to swell and bother her so she took some minor pain meds as she fought the pain and sleeping urge.

It was a longer drive than she recalled, most likely the dark and her sleep deprived body made it seem that way, but the sign for the cemetery perked her up even more as drew closer to the city. The closer she got to Dakota the more at peace she felt, she found herself closing her eyes behind the wheel soaking up the feeling of her lover.

She was in her own world now, a world she learned to tap into just for herself and Dakota. It was just them and no one else. She was so in tune to it, she never knew a drunk driver swerved over the line and hit her head on.

The transition was seamless, she was with Dakota in her own happiness.

“I’m afraid I have to go now.” Dakota spoke slowly disappearing.

“Dakota wait! I’m not ready to go yet!” Sage cried watching her girlfriend leave once again.

“It’s ok Sage, just wake up.”

Sage opened her eyes and found herself standing outside of the graveyard. It was daytime now, and she kept hearing her name.

“Sage!!!!” It sounded like Mateo. So she followed the voice.

“Sagggggge!!!” Now that was Lennox.

Sage smiled at the realization, “Ok guys, very funny.” Sage looked around but still couldn’t find the two voices.

Instead, a dark figured man appeared behind her, scaring the daylights out of her.

“Ok, this isn’t funny anymore. Who are you?” She said cowering away.

“I’m death Ms. Woods.”

“Death? But I’m not dead!?”

The man came closer and took her by the arm, opening up a portal with two paths, “Pick one.”

Sage pointed to the one on the right first, drawing her into a funeral in session.

The entire city looked to be there. As well as her mother and The Winchester’s. A funeral that seemed like Deja vu.

“Why did you bring me back to Dakota’s funeral?” Sage questioned.

“Look closer.” Death spoke.

Sage heard Mateo and Lennox calling her name like before and watched them this time. They weren’t trying to scare her, they were mourning her. As she focused on the tombstone, the name was her own, Sage Woods.

“That’s impossible! I can’t be dead!? How can I be dead?”

Death opened the portal and took her to the image on the left, “You were suppose to select this one first, like a book? Left to right.”

“Excuse me for not being very literate right now.” Sage yelled as she was brought to her car crash.

“Watch.” Death spoke pointing to her car.

Sage watched in awe as she saw her soul leave the car and rise to the clouds. “So if that’s my soul? Why am I here with you?”

“Why do you kids always ask so many questions? Look you’re dead and I’m showing you it’s true. Now I’m here to bring you to the afterlife.”

At the snap of his fingers, Sage found herself on a cloud outside of a great city in the distance. There was a gate and a man and a woman. One dressed in black and the other in white. Angel and a demon perhaps?

“Welcome home Ms. Woods. I’m Archangel Pariah and this is Demon Mezaya.” Then man spoke, “Here are your clothes.”

“Wait? Why are they gray?” Sage asked.

“You child, are an unclaimed. Unclaimed are typically mortals who end up here and have to earn their right to be a demon or angel.” Mezaya spoke.

“Up the path, the road splits into two paths, stay to the left. It is for the unclaimed. The other road leads you to the citadel.” Pariah said opening the gate.

“And what’s in the citadel?” Sage asked.

“When you are chosen to be an angel or demon, the citadel is an oasis for your own personal heaven. You can create your own and intermingle between others and their heavens.” Pariah added.

Sage kept on the correct path and ended up in a smallish town like place. It was cute and quaint, definitely old, but beautiful. There was hardly anyone about, but something was calling her to a building in the center of the town.

It was a feeling she couldn’t describe, it just felt right, it felt like...Dakota.

Sage entered the building revealing it to be a restaurant jam packed with unclaimed and a few angels and demons. And just like the new cowboy in town, as soon as she entered, the music stopped and all eyes where drawn to her.

A cup falling and shattering made Sage look at the source and came face to face with...

“Dakota.”

[rhaenyratargeryn]

title: the rise and fall of the house of soup

rating: T for terrible puns

fandom: Body Count (IF)

pairing: Arthur x f!mc

summary: an idea I got of how I imagine a meeting with Arthur’s parents might go based on this ask! And also incorporating my own headcanon silliness from discord 😂

notes: don’t ask me how to write this man, I simply am borrowing him and thus his reactions are probably totally wrong hdhebsbsa

—

Your motivation had been simple.

Should the dinner go well and should Arthur’s parents approve of you, they would be less likely to toss his “association” with “that young woman” in his face. You knew well enough you were a topic of contention that had yet to fully be brought to the forefront, Arthur sidestepping the conversation through strategic avoidance.

You’d been together nearly three years and had never met his parents. There were plenty of excuses especially with your work. There had been the writing of the book and then the publishing of the book and now there were tours and signings and last week HBO had even reached out to discuss possibly buying series rights.

It was a wonder what some experience could do for a thriller-horror writer and you considered this dinner just another furthering of your knowledge in that regard.

Arthur had reluctantly helped pick out an outfit that would garner his parents’ approval. Had coached you on topics to stay away from, topics to simply nod and agree and other pointers. Some of them already had you clenching your teeth in silent indignation, but you did your best to keep your spirits up.

The night of, your designer (but not too mainstream designer) outfit was pristine and ready. You stepped out on soft, stocking feet into the kitchen just in time to hear the ending of a terse, quite conversation. Arthur was flipping his phone around and around between his fingers, no doubt wishing to replace it with a cigarette. Talking to his parents always brought out the otherwise non-existent craving.

“Was that French onion?” You asked neutrally. It was perhaps low-hanging fruit to have named each and every Campbell a type of soup based on how much you disliked them, but— well. There it was.

“My father.” Arthur said, his nose wrinkled as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose.

Ugh. Cream of Celery.

“Reminding us of when ‘dinner will be served’ again?” You said, mocking the posh lit of his father’s accent very poorly.

Arthur’s scowl was answer enough, “… is it too late for one of us to suddenly become dreadfully ill?”

“Probably.” You replied, coming around to slide your arms around his middle from behind, cheek pressed against his back, “I could always pretend to get a call. No one understands what happens with publishing anyway.”

“No, I—. It will be fine.” Arthur said, his voice clipped. Despite your touch, he was still tense, muscles coiled and taunt as if he were prepared to flee.

“Well, if someone pulls out a puzzle box full of cards, I’m drawing the line.”

Your attempt to lighten the mood by comparing his family to a satanic cult earned you one half-hearted scoff. Regardless, his hand came up to settle over the one you had pressed against his chest and he drew it up to press a kiss to the back.

“Shall we?” He said with all the eagerness of a man being led to the gallows.

—

Of course they were the sort to have “drinks” before dinner. Arriving at the Campbell home you did your best not to seem too impressed by the lavishly decorated foyer and halls. It looked like it would have some sort of name from a BBC drama— like Downton Abbey or Thornfield Hall. You kept such observations to yourself as someone took your coat and led the two of you to a back room where Arthur’s parents were waiting.

Arthur was wrapped up in his usual defenses, but his palm on your lower back as he guided you through the hall was both reassuring and seeking of reassurance. Mr. and Ms. Campbell had pleasant, tight smiles on their faces as he introduced you, smiles tightening only further at the mere sound of your own accent.

You were ushered to sit on a small sofa with Ms. Campbell (French onion), passing one last soft touch over Arthur’s arm before you left his side.

“Something to drink?” Cream of Cel—Mr. Campbell said, the overt way he pronounced each syllable of your name making it sound not much like your name at all and more like a veiled criticism against your parents for picking it.

“Yes, sherry please.” You replied, eyes catching Arthur’s for a moment and noting the subtle approving dip of his head. Even what drink you should request for the aperitif was a planned performance. Mr. Campbell made a vague sound of affirmation as Ms. Campbell requested the same.

“What a lovely dress, is it Chanel?” Ms. Campbell began, the chess piece touched, the first opening move made.

“No.” You countered with a small smile.

“Don’t tell me, I’ll get it— Prada—no. Givenchy?”

You shook your head, smiling as Mr. Campbell handed you a glass of sherry and you sipped at it demurely before answering, “Cavalli.”

“Ah. I might have known.” Ms. Campbell said and you noted there was perhaps even a genuine sparkle of interest now in her eyes where before there had been plainly veiled disdain.

“Your lady knows her brands, Arthur. Which is good that one of you knows how to dress properly. Arthur will just toss on any old off-season shirt and be done with it.”

Mr. Campbell made a chortling sound of agreement, which you assumed was some kind of laugh. Arthur said nothing and sipped thinly at his own drink.

“Perhaps you can whip him into shape?”

“Funny, it was Arthur who picked out this dress for me.” You said, smile not reaching your eyes as you slid your hand over the soft fabric. Having her compliment redirected to her son had the small sparkle snapping out of Ms. Campbell’s eyes faster than you could say Chunky Hearty Cheeseburger Soup.

French onion, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I ever compared you to this woman.

Was the one thought that had your smiling into your sherry. Maybe you’d been a bit too hasty in your soup designations. The conversation travels between topics that Arthur had already prepared your answers for. All you needed to do was say them with firm, opinionated certainty that they were right and correct and wait for the Campbell’s to hum their increasing approval.

All in all, things were going well. They had even begun to thaw somewhat, though not to an amount you would have called anything but barely congenial.

“Ah—I remember now.” Ms. Campbell said, her eyes turning over your appearance, “This dress is from the winter collection from last year.”

You could tell by the tone of her voice points were being deducted, but it somehow didn’t seem to be you she was scoring. You didn’t even know if this dress was from last year—you didn’t really care. Arthur however gave one small squirm that had you thinking her observation must have been true.

“Would have been more appropriate to pick something a bit more closer to this season, wouldn’t it? He always is glossing over the finer details. Next time you need a dress for dinner I will give you my girl’s number. She is a godsend and would have never let you walk out of the house with those heels and those accessories. How blithely he’s matched them…”

Mr. Campbell made that same strange mirthless laugh, “You would think after that expense of your education you would be inclined towards thinking of the whole picture.”

Arthur simply took every small barb in stride, his features cool and indifferent. It had been like this all night.

“Though I’m sure by now you’ve dealt long enough with his heedlessness.” Mr. Campbell said, throwing the ball into your court to serve an insult of your own if you wished.

“I must confess to being deficient when it comes to women’s fashion.” Arthur said simply, tilting his glass back and forth and watching the contents swirl side to side.

“Only in women’s fashion?” His father added, his tone edged and yet another chuckle slid in to mask the obvious insult as a jest.

Death by a thousand cuts. That is what this was. Instead of serving to be his shield, you felt you were being asked to join in— encouraged to belittle Arthur. To bemoan him as careless, indifferent and thoughtless. To confirm the poor opinion these two cans of chunky hearty cheeseburger bullshit carried as the final test of your worthiness in their eyes.

But he wasn’t any of those things. He wasn’t.

Your fingers curled around the stem of your glass and you willed forward your resolve to tip it up to your lips and drain the contents in one quick gulp. The glass clicked as you set it on the immaculate, unused coffee table which you suspected was purely ornamental.

“He does certainly spend more time taking me out of clothes then putting me in them.” You said glibly, turning to flash Ms. Campbell a winning smile. The woman blanched, your words, hardly even scratching the surface of the crudeness you were capable of taking her off guard.

You stood and waltzed around to the drink cart, digging around in the contents until you found a bottle of champagne.

“Dom Perignon?” You said, a protest forming and dying on his father’s lips as you carelessly popped the top, “Dom mind if I do.”

You poured yourself a generous glass, topping off to the very tip of the sherry cup. Arthur was half poised, half out of his seat, staring at you with what could only be described as—horror? Confusion? Or simply incredulous delight?

You came to sit back on the sofa with an undignified plop, bottle still in hand and ready to top of your glass the moment it became a tiny bit empty.

“Now I don’t know about you two—“ you said, smacking your lips, “But I for one, think Brexit is possibly the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of.”

—

You did not make it to dinner.

You did not make it passed drinks.

One bottle of Dom Perignon and a near shouting match that had Cream of Celery half way towards “Tomato” and an hour or so later you were being carefully, tenderly ushered back into the flat you shared with Arthur.

You giggled and leaned heavily into Arthur’s arms, taking in the expensive, citrusy scent of his cologne, “I’m going to have three-hundred dollar wee.”

“…is that a declaration or a warning?”

“You’resofunny,” You slurred, voice still somehow a coo as you rolled back unto your feet, heels long since abandoned in the front seat of Arthur’s car, “You smell so good and you didn’t let me fall over that last step and—and—“

Your eyes stung as your turned your face up to meet his own bewildered expression.

“And I like you so much. So much. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

It was around then that you burst into tears right there in the doorway. Hot angry tears that would have, if you were more sober, mortified you for Arthur to witness. He hadn’t spoken much at all since you left his parents and you found you couldn’t tell if he was angry or ashamed or embarrassed by your behavior—but despite that, the arms around you were gentle and firm, if a bit hesitant and stiff.

He pressed a kiss into the top of your head.

“I don’t want them to ever like me. I want them to shudder at the very thought of my being on the same island as them!” You declared, “I’m going to make their lives so miserable they won’t have time to even think about you. I’m gonna make those high tory fucks hate my guts!”

It was around then you realized Arthur was shaking, his shoulders jerking up and down as he did his best to repress—laughter?

“I’m serious!”

And he laughed aloud. Bursting free of all that tension he had been carrying for days. The dark cloud finally pouring out its rain. He shook his head, stared at you as if you were some beautiful, otherworldly and foreign thing. Arthur took your face into his hands and held you still as he kissed you—senselessly, endlessly… until the champagne in your blood stream wasn’t the only thing making you dizzy and warm.

“I believe you.” He murmured against your lips, his thumb brushing across your cheek, “You positively mad, unbelievable, insufferable—“

And then he sealed off his own words by kissing you again.

“I thought the plan was to simply smile and nod your way through dinner…” Arthur said, clearly confused underneath his amusement at the night’s events, “You were doing well enough.”

“They kept pecking you. Peck, peck—like little cocks.” You murmured, nestling back into the circle of his arms and happy to find yourself warmly received. A rarity.

“It wasn’t even that bad.”

“… I’m callin’ them. I’m callin’ um right now and startin’ in on Boris.”

Arthur laughed again and you wondered how long it had been since his parents’ had ever heard this laugh. Relaxed and open and unrestrained.

It didn’t matter. They didn’t deserve to.

“You need to eat something and get some sleep.”

You mumbled your agreements and then after a moment added, “…s’weird that I kinda want soup?”

Arthur smiled—the soft one, the one reserved for private moments like this where only your eyes could see the gentleness in his own.

“I suppose I could bring you up some soup.”

“Chicken noodle.” You said with a resolute nod, openly taking advantage of his generous mood. He tucked a strand of your hair out of your face and behind your ear, gently taking the edge of it between his fingers and rubbing until you made a pleased sound.

“I’ll see if we have any.”

“That’s you. Chicken noodle. Classic, cozy, warm—delicious.” You added suggestively if only to hide the tenderness of your words before, spoken soft and low between you.

Arthur didn’t say anything but his brows furrowed together and for a moment you worried you’d offended him by gracing him with his own soupy nickname, but instead he kissed you again half so sweetly you couldn’t help but moan into his parted lips.

Maybe you would never earn his parent’s approval, but you were fairly certain neither one of you cared. Because all that mattered was you, him— us. No others required.

[ariajii]

im in that part where we can interview one of my 'love of my lives' 🤣 i find this so funny because i usually name my MCs with my real name and when he asked me this, i felt soooo giddy that i forgot our MC's mom is a doctor too and he's not pertaining to my OH MC. that would've been so cute though.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hi hi, I love your work a 💯,but will you please please please please with a cherry on top write a fic where Ethan is absolutely inlove with his little girl his baby daughter and mc can't help but adore peace ✌

Love you

your fan❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤🔔🔔

In A Blink

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Becca Lao)  Rating: G Tropes: Domestic with Kids; Fluff

Summary: Ethan Ramsey could never have understood fatherhood. Not until this moment.

a/n: thank you for requesting. here’s a teeny drabble <33 

It happened. 

The day he never saw coming. 

Never imagined it.

And yet here he was -- in the aftermath of it all.  

Dr. Ethan Ramsey had eight months to wrap his head around parenthood. He knew all the basics in keeping an infant alive - he’s spent his fair share in the NICU. But oh my god was Ethan Ramsey terrified of being a father. He wouldn’t tell Becca though. She was emotional and worried enough as is. Any and all his concerns were saved for the short conversations he had with his father.

“Don’t overthink it, son. The moment you lay eyes on your daughter you’ll know what to do. It’s instinct. Biology. That was your best subject in school, wasn’t it?” Alan would joke.

Dakota Dolores Ramsey was completely unplanned. Unplanned but not unwanted. Loved for who she is and the idea of who she will become. The kind of love parents are supposed to regard their children with. 

But no one could explain to him just how unprepared Ethan would be, or how in one instant his entire being would change. One look at Dakota and Ethan's entire world shifted. 

The first time Ethan Ramsey held his daughter time froze. Becca resting in the hospital bed, coming in an out of lucidity, as he sits in the chair next to her bed and cradles their daughter to his bare chest. Everything stopped but the beating of three hearts. The universe needed a minute to process the broad grin and full heart thumping rapidly from this stoic and reserved man. 

The earth was about to spin the wrong way but then Dakota opened her eyes. 

Ethan Ramsey could never have understood the verity of fatherhood. Not until this moment.

Everything was the way divinity had planned it.

____________

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

> complete masterlist <

Perma:

@jerzwriter   @quixoticdreamer16   @terrm9 @crazy-loca-blog   @the-pale-goddess   @schnitzelbutterfingers   @gryffindordaughterofathena   @lucy-268   @reputaytion-xiii @peonierose   @withbeautyandrage @little-flowers-on-heaven @parisa-kh   @forallthatitsworth   @maurine07  

All Ethan:

@queencarb   @lsvdw-blog   @mm2305   @senseofduties  @differenttyphoonwerewolf   @a-crepusculo @shreyasrivathsa    @headoverheelsforramsey   @blossomanarchy   @rosebudde  @coffeeheartaddict2 @cryomyst @rookiemartin   @ohchoices   @takemyopenheart @uneravine @ofmischiefandmedicine

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Throwback Fics #113

Open Heart

All Yours | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @jerzwriter

Back for More | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @potionsprefect

Controlling What We Can Control | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @coffeeheartaddict2

Happiness Is… | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @liaromancewriter

Magic | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC – @starrystarrytrouble

Time to Say Goodbye | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC – @lucy-268

Versace | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @genevievemd

Red Carpet Diaries

Forever and Always | Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

With Every Heartbeat

The Star in her Sky | M!Dakota Winchester x MC; MC x ? – @lem-20

Crossover: The Royal Romance x The Freshman

Country Glitter | TRR MC x M!OC; Chris Powell x TF MC - @bebepac

[drabbles-mc]

Pretty Boy

Juice Ortiz x OFC (Dakota Lowman)

Combining an Anonymous request and a request from @adela-topaz-caelon:  Juice Ortiz x F!Reader, were the reader is Happy’s daughter and her boyfriend is Juice? and Juice x female reader where they're at the clubhouse or somewhere, just chilling to keep reader safe or something, and you get those cheesy moments of catching an eye, or an absentmindedly kiss that causes flusteredness

Warnings: language, alcohol, Juice being a lil cutie pie

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I tweaked each of these requests a little bit, but I hope y’all still enjoy it! I got the Happy’s Daughter request and immediately me and @garbinge started brainstorming OC ideas and we ended up with two daughters for Happy. Clearly we get carried away haha. This is just a fluffy little one-shot and a sort of wamrup/intro to the Lowman Sisters as OCs. We (when I say “we”, I totally mean me and Anj as a unit lmao) have big plans for them in the future and I can’t wait to take y’all along for the ride. In the meantime, enjoy this lil oneshot! xo

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @jitterbugs927​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ (If you want to be added to the list feel free to let me know!)

“Out of all the women in the universe,” Juice spoke up with a shake of his head, “I think the last two that need someone to watch their backs are Happy’s daughters, that’s all.”

Jax shook his head, “Everyone has someone watching their back, no exceptions.”

“Yea but they don’t need—”

He cut Juice off, “Club call, not theirs.”

Both of Happy’s daughters were sitting back, watching the entire interaction play out in front of them. It wasn’t something that they’d never gone through before, but they each knew that there was a more tactful way to go about it without making them feel like they were being saddled with babysitters. His youngest thought it was all bullshit, but she wasn’t willing to put up a fight over it. Her older sister, however, didn’t have the same reservations.

“Fuck this,” she stood up off her barstool, “You don’t get to make that call for me, Teller.”

“Hap said—”

“Well Hap isn’t here,” she rolled her eyes as she swiped her keys off the table, “Tell my old man if he wants someone to babysit me, he can do it himself,” she began walking towards the clubhouse door, “just like the good old days.”

“Diedra,” Jax stepped towards her, wrapping his hand around her forearm.

She immediately twisted her arm out of his grasp and used her other hand to shove him backwards, “Do that again and I’ll bust your fucking nose,” she waited a beat to see if any of them were going to try to stop her again, and when they didn’t, she looked over to her sister, “Call me if any of these assholes give you any trouble, alright?”

She nodded, “Alright.”

The clubhouse door slammed behind her, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Jax glanced over at Juice, who was trying to look anywhere but at his VP and the young woman still perched at the bar. With a heavy sigh, Jax spoke up, “Don’t go two for two on losing the Lowman Sisters, alright? Hap is gonna wring my fucking neck over Di as it is.”

“He won’t,” she shook her head, chuckling slightly, “You think our dad doesn’t know what you’re dealing with?”

“You think that your dad is really gonna care about that when it comes down to it?” Jax retorted. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get his tone in order, “Sorry, Kota. It’s not on you. Just, please stay with Juice, alright? Just until we figure all this shit out.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee and trying to pretend that she didn’t get a little bit of sadistic enjoyment out of Jax’s stress over her father and sister, “Sure, I can handle that.”

He didn’t say anything more before also heading out the door, managing to shut it a little quieter than the woman who had walked out before him. It left just Juice and Dakota by themselves in the clubhouse—everyone else either on club business or safely within the walls of their own homes waiting out the impending chaos.

“How pissed is your dad gonna be about your sister?” Juice asked, a smirk starting to curl the edges of his mouth.

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “He’s not going to actually be pissed. He knows how Di gets about lockdown and shit,” she paused, smiling, “But he is going to make Jax feel like shit about it first.”

Juice chuckled, “Perfect.”

There were a few beats of silence before she spoke up again, “So do I get to know why I need a bodyguard or…?”

“H-happy didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head, “No,” with a huff she rolled her eyes, “he never tells me shit. I don’t, I don’t know why Di gets to know everything and I don’t. I don’t get what’s so different.”

“She is older,” Juice couldn’t pretend to understand the dynamics in the Lowman family but it seemed like an easy justification to offer up.

“By like, four years. That doesn’t mean shit.”

Juice laughed, “You sound a little bitter.”

“Bitter is in our blood, Juan,” she laughed as she finished off her coffee.

The use of his real name caught him off-guard. The two of them hadn’t ever really talked much, just little conversations here and there. He didn’t think that she knew his real name at all, let alone felt comfortable enough with him to use it. Despite the bite in her tone for every other word she spoke, there was a softness when she said it.

“Right,” he tried to keep himself focused, “Well, your sister seems like a girl full of answers so maybe you should ask her about it.”

“Glad I’m at least going to be locked down with a comedian,” she shook her head before getting up and tossing her coffee cup in the garbage, “So, what? You just gonna follow me around while I do things? Keep me company while I get a pedicure?”

He laughed, “I don’t think that you should really be out getting pedicures right now.”

“Well, then could you at least take me back to my place?” she laughed, “Di and I came together and she just stormed off with the keys.”

Juice couldn’t help the laughter that slipped past his lips, “Yea, yea I think I can handle that.”

As the two of them walked across the lot towards Juice’s bike, Dakota became very aware of the fact that the two of them hadn’t ever spent any one-on-one time together. They saw each other in passing at the clubhouse, and a couple times he’d worked on her car in the past, but they didn’t really know each other. She knew of him, the same way he probably knew of her. But they didn’t learn anything about each other, from each other.

In the past when she and her sister needed someone to watch their back because of things going on with the club, it would usually just be Happy, because that made the most sense. And realistically, Diedra had been right when she said that she could handle herself perfectly fine. If the two of them were left to their own devices they’d probably be okay, but it wasn’t a chance that the MC was willing to take. On a rare occasion or two Chibs or Tig kept an eye on them, but those men usually kept their distance.

Juice handed her a spare helmet, a lopsided grin on his face, “Where is your place, anyway?”

“Apartment complex just off Main?” she said as she clipped the helmet on, “Gray Street.”

He nodded, “Got it.”

She settled onto the bike behind him with ease, no stranger to the ins and outs of a ride. It caught Juice off-guard for a moment before he remembered who she was. He looked down to see her well-manicured nails interlocked over his stomach and he didn’t know why but it made him smile. She leaned against him a little, waiting for him to peel out of the compound. He checked with her to make sure she was good before taking off.

As he rolled into the parking lot of the complex, Dakota directed him where to go and park. Diedra’s car was nowhere to be seen. And while it had been made abundantly clear that she was in charge of herself, Juice still felt a little responsible for how everything had played out.

“You two live here together, right?” he asked as he put down the kickstand of his bike.

“Yea,” she unclipped her helmet and tousled her hair, “but she’s probably blowing off steam somewhere. Maybe tracking down our dad,” she laughed.

“Was it weird growing up with Happy as a dad?” the question came out before he could stop it, and regret instantly flooded over his features, “Fuck, sorry. I, I know it’s really not my business.”

She chuckled as she dug her keys out of her purse, “You’re fine. Don’t apologize so much.”

“Sor—” he stopped himself, “Right.”

“But in answer to your question,” they slowly made their way up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building, “He…he tried. He does the best he can, you know? I think all our parents do,” she put the key in the lock of her door, “Doesn’t mean that their best is always good enough, but it’s all they can do.”

She was about to step inside when Juice put an arm out in front of her to stop her. She chuckled, nodding for him to go in first and scope the place out, even though it was highly unlikely that anyone ended up there looking for her or her sister.

About a minute later she heard Juice’s voice calling for her to come inside. She laughed as she stepped in, locking the door behind her before tossing her purse off to the side and instantly kicking off her shoes. Juice watched her, and as she sauntered her way into the kitchen he really began to question how the two of them never ended up really speaking to each other. He and Diedra had had a handful of conversations, although they weren’t deep or filled with a lot of pleasantries. But he felt like he had a better idea of who she was, than who her little sister was. She was always kind unless provoked, but she kept to herself a lot of the time.

“Smoothie?” she offered as she pulled a half-full blender out of the fridge.

Juice laughed in surprise. Usually when he was at someone’s house they offered beer, or something stronger. He’d never even been offered water before let alone a smoothie. He shook his head, “I’m good for now, thanks.”

She shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

By the time Diedra came back to the apartment, the sun had long since set. Dakota and Juice were camped out at the counter, both of them laughing hard at whatever story Juice had been telling. They heard the sound of the key in the lock and both of them looked over at the door expectantly. Diedra walked inside, kicking off her boots and tossing her keys immediately. She’d seen Juice’s bike parked outside and wasn’t enthused, and when she could hear their laughter from the hallway, she had the feeling that he wasn’t going to be in a rush to get back to the clubhouse or go home.

She looked about as exhausted and frustrated as she felt. She’d gone and tracked down her father, which did nothing to help the current situation. On top of him being upset about how she was handling the whole protection side of things, he was mad that she had gone out on a manhunt to find him, completely defeating the purpose of having someone keeping her safe.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” she skipped over the pleasantries and got right to the point, “With the two of us here we should be alright.”

“I, uh, I don’t mind,” Juice didn’t know why he found Diedra to be just as intimidating as her father, but he did, “I can hang out a little longer.”

She shrugged, not looking to argue about it, “Suit yourself,” she looked at her sister, “I’m gonna go shower.”

Dakota gave a wordless nod and watched her sister disappear to the other end of the apartment.  She let out a sigh and shook her head—she didn’t know the details of her older sister’s day, but she didn’t have to. Dakota could tell from the moment she walked in that the day hadn’t gone in her favor. She’d try to be there for her if she thought it would get either of them anywhere, but if there was one thing that she’d learned about her sister in all their years growing up together, was that those kinds of things happened on Diedra’s terms, and no one else’s.

“She always this cheery?” Juice asked with tiny smirk, “Or just when I’m around?”

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “It has nothing to do with you, personally. It’s…complicated. Honestly, she’s gotta like you on some level because she hasn’t threatened you yet. But either way,” she reached and rested her hand on his for a moment, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The touch was light and momentary but Juice felt it course through his entire body. He cleared his throat, trying to do anything besides stare at his hands, “Well that’s…that’s nice to hear.”

“And not that I’m trying to rush you out, but for the sake of your own self-esteem,” there was a playful smile on her face, “you might wanna just head out and come back in the morning. She’ll be a little cooled off by then.”

He nodded, “Yea, yea okay,” he hopped up and they both made their way towards the door, “Lock it behind me.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yea, I’ve done this before.”

He stood in the hallway for a moment as Dakota leaned against the doorframe, a smile beginning to tug at the edges of her mouth. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he knew better. He shoved his hands into his pockets to fight the urge.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then?” she asked.

He nodded, “I’ll be here bright and early.”

She laughed, “I’ll have coffee ready, then,” she paused, “Goodnight, Juan.”

He smiled, “Goodnight.”

A little while later, when Dakota was already in bed scrolling on her phone, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She turned on the light and called for her sister to come in. When the door opened, Diedra was standing there wrapped in her towel, clothes draped over her arm as she propped herself against the side of the door.

“You all good?”

Dakota propped herself up on her elbows, nodding, “Yea, yea I’m good. You good?”

She shrugged, “I’ll be alright.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Pfft,” her annoyance wasn’t aimed at her sister, “Nothing to say. Same shit,” there was a beat of silence, “Juice stay here with you all day?”

She nodded, “Yea. I know you don’t like him but he seems swe—”

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” she let out a small sigh, “the whole situation is just a fuckin’ mess. Plus you and I are adults—we don’t need fucking babysitters.”

Dakota couldn’t do anything besides nod, “I know. I just, I don’t see the point in fighting it if we’re just gonna lose.”

“You’re only fine with it because they saddled you with the pretty boy,” a knowing smirk crossed Diedra’s face for a moment.

Her little sister laughed, “Certainly doesn’t hurt to have something nice to look at in a pseudo-lockdown.”

“Mhm,” she shook her head, “Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

“Never,” she laughed, “Love you.”

“Love you.”

With that she shut the door and made her way off to her own room. Dakota flopped back down onto her pillow with a sigh, trying to get everything in order in her head. All she ever really wanted to do was keep the peace, but it was practically an impossible task at this point so she wondered what the use was in even trying anymore.

True to her word, the next morning there was already a pot of coffee made by the time that Juice got there. Truthfully, she’d just set an alarm specifically for that purpose and then gone right back to bed. That was made evident to him by the fact that she answered the door half-asleep, hair still a bit of a frizzy mess from a night of tossing and turning. She smiled and waved him in but didn’t say much of anything, wordlessly gesturing to the coffee pot to let him know to help himself.

“Not a morning person?” he chuckled.

She shook her head, running her hands down her face, “No, that’s always been Di’s thing. I’m a night owl.”

As if on cue, Diedra came bounding into the apartment, headphones still on and drenched in sweat from her run and workout that morning. She saw Juice standing in the kitchen and offered him a slight nod as she made her way directly to the bathroom to shower. She lightly patted Dakota on the back as she walked by, letting the gesture serve as her greeting for the morning.

“So,” Juice drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter as he watched Dakota pour them each a cup of coffee, “what’s the plan for today?”

She shrugged as she slid it across to him, “You tell me,” she took a sip, “I got some school shit I gotta do, but I can do it here or at the clubhouse if that’s better. I still don’t know what the fuck is going on, so I’m following your lead on this.”

No one had ever said those words in that order to him before. He took a long drink out of his coffee cup to buy himself a few extra seconds to think, “Um, I mean, clubhouse would probably be best. More people around,” his eyes flicked towards the other end of the apartment, “I’m guessing your sister is just gonna…”

“Do whatever she wants to do?” she laughed, nodding, “Sounds about right,” she stretched, taking a deep breath, “Alright. Let me get ready and we can head out.”

“Okay,” he sat down at the counter, “No rush or anything.”

While he was finishing his coffee and waiting for Dakota to get ready, her sister emerged back into the kitchen, no longer in her sweaty workout clothes. She had on a baggy hoodie and a pair of running shorts, hair still down and damp as she opened the fridge to start pulling together her smoothie for the morning.

“Where you two crazy kids off to today?” she asked as she set everything on the counter.

“Just to the clubhouse,” he paused, trying to figure out if she should ask what he was about to ask, “You?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression serious for a moment before she cracked the smallest of smiles, “I’ll be around. Got some shit I gotta handle.”

“Anything I can—”

“All you gotta worry about is my sister and the club, Juice,” her tone was firm, but not mean.

Before he could say anything more, Dakota walked back out into the kitchen. She looked back and forth between her sister and Juice, surprised at the lack of tension in the room. There wasn’t the fear of god in Juice’s eyes the way there had been the night before.

“We’re gonna head out,” she gave Juice a slight nod towards the door before looking back at her sister, “Text me when you get where you’re going?”

She nodded, “Sure thing. Don’t let him wipe out on the bike.”

Dakota laughed as she looked over at Juice, “Well, guess we’re taking the bike.”

Dakota made herself comfortable at one of the tables in the clubhouse. She had her headphones on and her schoolwork spread out across the table in front of her. Between her notebooks and her laptop, there was just enough room for Juice and his computer on the other side of the table. Every now and then she’d look up and catch him staring at her, and she’d offer up a smile before diving back into her work. Juice wanted to ask her about it, wanted just about any reason to listen to her talk, but he stopped himself.

It was late in the afternoon when she finally leaned back in her chair, taking her headphones off with a groan. She ran her hands down her face as she shook her head, trying to get her brain to slow down. Juice looked up at her, chuckling quietly.

“It’s going that well, huh?”

“Go back to school they said. It’ll be good for you they said,” she laughed, rolling her eyes, “Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m paying to suffer.”

Juice couldn’t help but to laugh, “Sorry it’s so rough.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine. I just need to complain about it sometimes,” she smiled at him, “And since you’re the one who is stuck with me, you’re the one who has to hear it. Sorry.”

“You can complain as much as you want,” a smirk tugged at his lips as he drummed his fingers on the table, “I don’t mind.”

That was the routine that they fell into for the next week. Each morning Juice would show up at her apartment, make small-talk with Diedra that got less and less awkward as the days went on, and then they’d head to the clubhouse once Dakota was ready. On the days when Juice was actually working at T-M, Dakota would set herself up at the picnic table outside, or if she was just reading, she would find an empty chair in the garage to sit in so that the two of them would stay close. It wasn’t that they really needed to talk all that much, but the proximity was nice. And, for the time being, they had the cover of the fact that he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her.

In the midst of a sea of fleeting touches and soft smiles, neither of them brought themselves to say anything to address all the feelings that were bubbling up. A few times, Juice almost did. There were moments, after he’d park his bike at the clubhouse or her apartment, and she’d leave her arms wrapped around him a little longer than necessary. She’d keep herself flush against his back despite the fact that she didn’t need to anymore, and he’d almost get the nerve to say something to her. But it never quite happened. He’d see her reading, taking notes on something that was way above his paygrade, and every square inch of his brain would scream at him to tell her that she’s beautiful, but the words always got caught in his throat.

“Guess what,” Diedra strode over to the picnic table where her sister was sitting, laptop set up in front of her for class.

She looked up, eyebrows raised, “What’s up?”

“As of,” she looked at the time on her phone, “One hour and twenty-five minutes ago, we are no longer on fake, need-a-babysitter lockdown.”

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “I don’t think that you ever really were.”

“Yea, well,” Diedra laughed as she swiped up her sister’s drink and took a sip of it, “now Dad can’t keep giving me shit about it. So that’s a plus,” there were a few beats of silence, “You gonna break the news to pretty boy over there? Or you gonna let the club do it?”

She smiled, shaking her head, “No news to break. Shit will just go back to business as usual.”

“He’s gonna be real fuckin’ bummed about it, you know.”

She arched one eyebrow, “Why does it feel like you’re encouraging this?”

“He seems less shitty than most the other guys you’ve brought around.”

“We’re not even—”

“I know,” Diedra chuckled, “I know you’re not. But he’s chomping at the fuckin’ bit so I’d say something before he thinks that he’s completely lost his shot.”

Dakota’s nails clacked on the surface of the picnic table as she tapped them, clearly thinking about everything her sister had said to her. Diedra walked away, letting her little sister mull over what she had said.

As the afternoon was drawing to a close, the guys all came out of church into the main expanse of the clubhouse. Everyone was whooping and hollering, and it was clear that whatever the issue it was that had arisen, had been taken care of. Everyone else who was already at the clubhouse joined in on the cheering, despite not knowing all of the details.

Diedra and Dakota were camped out at the bar, each of them smiling and shaking their heads because they knew the antics that were about to ensue. The music immediately got louder and the prospect behind the bar skipped over grabbing glasses and just took out a few entire bottles of liquor to set on the counter for the guys to grab.

After a few minutes of the initial chaos, Dakota felt someone’s hand land on her shoulder. She turned around, expecting to see Juice, but instead came face-to-face with her father. She smiled up at him as she took a sip of her beer.

“Glad everything got sorted.”

He nodded, “For now,” there was a pause as he looked her over, “You’re alright?”

She laughed, “Yea, Dad, I’m alright. I’m not the person at the top of the priority list for anyone who is out to get you. And even if I was,” she nodded towards her sister who was now at the other end of the bar in a heated discussion with Tig about something, “between Di and Juan, no one was getting to me.”

His brows furrowed when he heard her refer to him by his real name, “He didn’t do anything fucking stupid, did he?”

She almost choked on her beer, shaking her head, “No, no he didn’t. Jesus Christ, Dad, cut the kid some slack.”

“Alright,” he nodded, pulling her in and placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, “I love you.”

She chuckled, nodding, “I love you too.”

Happy disappeared into the crowd and it was only a few moments before the stool beside her became occupied. She glanced over, a smile spreading across her face when she saw the person she’d been expecting originally.

“Congrats on, well,” she chuckled, “whatever you guys did.”

Juice smiled, shaking his head, “Just keeping ourselves alive and outta jail for another day. That’s all,” he paused as he took the beer bottle being handed to him by the man on the other side of the bar, “Guess you’ll finally be able to go and get your pedicures now.”

She laughed, “Yea I guess so. The invite is still open if you wanna come with me. It’s quite the experience.”

“Tempting,” he leaned onto the bar, letting his elbows rest on it, “But I think I’m good.”

“You know, even if you don’t want to go and get pedicures with me,” she sipped on her beer, “We could find something else to do that we could both enjoy.”

He looked over at her, a tentative smile on his face, “Yea?”

She shrugged, “Yea. Preferably something not early in the morning. I’d love to go back to sleeping in,” she couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You didn’t have to wake up early, you know.”

“Yea, but, I wanted to. I…I like spending time with you.”

That statement hung in the air for a few seconds before she gently nudged his knee with her own. It snapped him out of whatever train of thought he was trapped in, his eyes searching hers waiting to figure out the next move. She smiled, a quiet laugh passing her lips before she leaned in and kissed him, her hand coming to rest on the back of his head.

Shock went through his body for a moment as he forced himself to realize that it was really happening, that it wasn’t just a dream. His hand lightly gripped onto her thigh as he let himself lean into her. When she pulled her lips off of his, they each laughed, the sound of it soft against the raucous noise of the clubhouse.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Juice forced out through the surprise coursing through his system, “If…if you wanted to do something.”

Dakota laughed, leaning back onto her seat but letting her hand tangle up with his, “Yea, I could do something tomorrow.”

“Afternoon?” he said with a laugh.

“Yea,” she laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, “Tomorrow afternoon is good.”

[omgjasminesimone]

The Moments in Between

Dakota x MC

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.

High School Graduation

Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.

He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.

Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.

“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.

“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.

Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.

Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”

Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”

Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”

“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.

“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”

“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”

“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”

...

Discharged

Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.

“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.

“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.

“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.

Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.

Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”

“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.

Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”

“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.

“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.

“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.

“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.

“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”

“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”

Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”

Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”

A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.

“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.

“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.

“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.

“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.

Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”

Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.

“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.

...

College Visits

“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.

Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.

He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.

She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again. 

Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”

“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”

Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”

“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.

“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”

“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.

But it’s worth it.

...

New York City

Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.

He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”

Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”

Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”

“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.

“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.

“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.

Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.

Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”

“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.

Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.

Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”

Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.

“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.

Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.

Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.

Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”

Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.

Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.

The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.

“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.

“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”

“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.

“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.

That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“

“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.

“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.

God damn, he’s so lucky. 

...

College Graduation

As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.

But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.

...

Wedding

“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.

Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.

His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.

“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.

“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.

“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.

“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.

That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.

 When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.

His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.

“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.

“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.

The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.

“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.

“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.

Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.

She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.

...

Video Message

Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She grins up at him. “Ready?”

“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.

Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”

She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.

“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.

“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“

“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.

“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.

Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.

“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.

Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.

“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”

Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.

“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”

Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.

It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”

While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”

He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

...

Heart to Heart

“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.

“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.

“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.

Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.

“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.

“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.

“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.

“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.

“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.

“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.

“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.

Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”

“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”

“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.

“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.

“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.

“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”

Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.

She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“

“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.

“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”

“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject. 

“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle. 

“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases. 

Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”

“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”

“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.

...

..

A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)

tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach

[choicesdecemberchallenge2021]

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The Royal Romance

Christmas Greetings from our Cordonian Royals and Nobles | @they-call-me-princess​

With Every Heartbeat

M!Dakota Winchester x MC | @they-call-me-princess

[brightburner]

you hate the nights without me (baby, I hate 'em too)

Arthur Campbell x f!MC (Dakota Blue) | Body Count (IF) | rating: explicit (minors dni) | post-canon, established relationships, mildly-less-mean-arthur, smut, idiot in love (guess which one)

***

Overwhelming.

That was the most eloquent word Dakota could associate with the way her senses both tunneled and flared, bright and consuming when Arthur kissed her like this. Hard, fast, movements edging towards frantic. His hands tugged at her hair, her clothes—pulling and pressing as if he wanted to be everywhere all at once. The kisses were more like bites, punctuated by the running of his tongue over her own or across her lips.

Messy.

He kissed her like he was trying to tell her something— something she simply was not comprehending and in his frustration he kept telling her harder and with more urgency.

Possessive.

Like a child afraid someone was about to take away their favorite toy.

But god if it doesn’t feel good. The wanting, the desperation, the way he pressed her into the bed, hands underneath her blouse, shoving it up towards her chin and barring her skin to the cold air. He bites the center of her chest, drags his tongue over the swelling of her breast as his fingers hook at the base of her bra and pulls. She gasps when his teeth graze over one tightened nipple, licking it into his mouth while his thumb seeks out her other.

The attentions are brief, because this isn’t about her. Not really. It’s about him. Him and this silent statement, this hidden message that Arthur seems certain he can more easily fuck into her than just speak.

There is a strange vulnerability to being completely naked while he is still mostly dressed. His shirt is untucked and unbuttoned, hanging open around his pale chest, and she parts her thighs, sets them against his hips as he works open his belt.

And there it is and oh, she still has no idea what he wishes to make her understand but the way he’s telling it with every roll of his hips makes her more and more certain she doesn’t care.

He presses in as deep as he can, deep enough that she whimpers and lifts her hips in a vain attempt to give him more space. There isn’t anymore to give. He’s claimed it all, every inch of her clutching and pressing against him. If he could cum just from that, she’s certain he would, but instead he thrusts into her, shallow but hard. The ache of it blending with the good until her nerves are humming, bursting with sensation.

And instead of wanting him to slow down, instead of wanting him to look at her, to say something, to stop hiding his face into her neck and shuddering as if at any moment he might fall apart she just—holds unto him. Arms sliding up beneath his and clutching at his back, nails drawing dully across his shoulders.

She locks her legs around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs and beneath him she bucks forward into him. Urges him on without a word.

Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.

She has him. All of him. And yet she still wants—

The thought breaks apart with a whimper as she feels the prickling sensation building at her center, each impact of his hips driving it on. Feeding it.

Dakota is dully aware that she is speaking—gasping out those two words, a quiet desperate litany. Arthur doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t stop either. His breaths heavy, punctuated by a low groan when she lifts her hips again in an eager roll.

And now it is her trying to speak without words. Mouthing silently against his shoulder, biting and worrying the skin between her teeth—take it. Her body. Her soul. The very heart, beating rapid as a rabbit caught in a snare within her chest.

I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving, you idiot. You infuriating bastard. My infuriating bastard.

And somewhere in there she feels him cum, his movements less controlled as he pace faltered and then picked up. Riding out his own release inside the warm clutch of her walls while her own still teeters, not quite there yet at the beginning. She isn’t disappointed, she wouldn’t let herself be disappointed, dragging a hand between her legs and drawing her own wetness up to swirl around her clit. Arthur was slowing, but the full stretch of him is still there and is still more than enough to have her tingling, then spasming, pleasure prickling out across her thighs and up the base of her spine.

It felt good. Cumming with him still locked inside her, feeling the solid fullness of him as her walls clamped and pulled at him. It always did.

She felt hazy, heavy and sleepy. Body still thrumming with aftershocks of warmth. Arthur sat up, eyes falling to where they were still connected as a quiet, “Fuck.” fell from his lips.

“S’alright.” She mumbles, “Safe day.”

And then she smiles, “Besides, you’re good for child support, right?”

He doesn’t laugh, only gives her a withering look that has her laughing. He moves his weight off of her, collapsing on the other side of the bed with a huff. Arthur rubs his palm over his eyes, squeezes and releases, coming back into his senses as if he had just woken up. Dakota can’t repress a yawn, the heavy contented feeling in her limbs making a nap seem like a wonderful idea.

If only she could get her thoughts to quiet, still turning over the sudden intensity of the intimacy. Trying to remember how it even started. And at the end, Arthur didn’t even seem contented, a furrow still present in his brow and an almost… defeated air to his heavy sigh.

Oh. Right.

“You’ll see… by the second night I’m gone, you’re never gonna want me hogging up the covers again. I’ll be lucky you don’t make me sleep on the couch.”

Arthur hums gruffly.

That was it. The class reunion. Dakota had been going through the old photos in her things, including the one of her senior prom and of her then-boyfriend— blond, bright and earnestly grinning. With a thrice broken nose, he would have almost resembled Griffin. Dakota had “aww’d” at the image and gotten halfway through a sweet story of the evening and how she should look him up on Facebook before she noted that instead of ignoring her, Arthur seemed to be listening intently. Too intently.

She had dropped the subject, but the storm cloud whirling around his head thundered gloomily as the day of her departure to the States approached.

And that was about when things had flared up, intense and frequent. Or at least more frequent than what you’d expect from two twenty-somethings, Dakota supposed.

“Or—“ Dakota added, sidling in closer, turning unto her stomach to fold her arms over his middle and lean her chin there. She attempted to appear sufficiently irresistible.

“—you could come with me.”

“What? As your boyfriend?” Arthur said with a scoff.

“No, as my butler.” she said flatly.

She had not offered before. She had expected his answer would be a resounding negative. Spend a weekend stuck in an old high school gymnasium surrounded by strangers who would ooo and awe at his accent? Forcing polite smiles, drinking cheap booze and eating even cheaper and stranger hors d’oeuvres, brought forth like an eldritch terror from the mind of bored Californian housewives?

In short. Hell. Hell is what she was describing.

But it was a hell that included the possibility of Dakota meeting up with her high school sweetheart. Her first love and her first heartbreak.

To her surprise, Arthur seemed genuinely conflicted.

“Or," He began, "You could not go.”

“But I want to go.”

High school had been high school, but it was her middle school made friends she wanted to see most. Dakota would take whatever chance she could to see the girls from those days. Distance and schedule kept them from meeting and she was already aflutter with daydreams of their planned “sleepover” in joined hotel rooms. Movies and popcorn and nail-painting— even if they had all favored only black in school.

Arthur frowned at her reply.

“I could call off more time from work. Extend my ticket. Take a whole week even… we could have the rest of the time to ourselves. Go to the beach, hit up some vineyards. It could be fun.”

Dakota pressed a lazy kiss into his stomach, the act making him jolt and give a faint sound of protest. Ticklish baby.

“… maybe. No promises.” Arthur said, the smallest concession. The tiniest crack. Dakota hid her grin by nipping and then kissing his chest and this time instead of protesting, his fingers carded through her hair and clutched at the base of her neck. His thumb rubbed mindlessly into her nape and Dakota moaned, feeling boneless and relaxed once more.

“But I’ll miss you,” She whispers, childish and pouting. He doesn’t respond, but his fingers curl a fraction tighter.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Four Hearts

Pairing(s): Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) / Dakota Winchester x MC (Josie Camilo) Book(s): Open Heart/ With Every Heartbeat Word count: 1K Warning: Language Summary: Who was texting Dr. Ramsey during his Hope Springs interview and what could make him smile like that?

Author’s Note: I just finished With Every Heartbeat and I love Dakota Winchester more than words can say. Here’s my little interpretation of Ethan’s cameo. I tried not to spoil anything. Cheese/fluff ahead!

_________________

“You need to loosen him up!”

“How?”

Ethan made a show to glance down at his wrist watch. “You're down to three minutes.”

The young girl's eyes widened as she grasped for something to ask Ethan. Her partner, meanwhile, grinned encouragingly at her, cool as ever and clearly unaffected by Ethan's prickly demeanor.

“Who's the hottest doctor in Edenbrook?” she blurted.

Ethan's jaw went slack, completely caught off guard.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's a straightforward question.”

She was right about that. The answer was so obvious that his mind didn't even hesitate to conjure it. Bright, clever eyes and a pretty, often devious smile came to mind almost instantly.  His stomach leaped just at the mere thought of her.

“I can go first,” the Winchester kid offered helpfully. “I think it's Josie's mom.”

“Dakota!”

“What? It's a genetic compliment.”

Ethan tore his thoughts away from his girlfriend and glanced from one anxious face to the other. The latter was so cheerful and unabashed that Ethan couldn't help but surrender to his amusement. “Alright, I take your point.”

That was enough for Ethan to drop the asshole facade and deliver a strong appeal for their donation video. When he was finished, the one called Josie gaped at him, impressed. “... Wow. That was perfect.”

“Thanks, Dr. Ramsey.”

“You're welcome.”

A loud ping announcing the arrival of Lilac's much awaited response robbed his attention. Ethan glanced at his phone much too eagerly, forgetting about the kids still in his office. He read her response on the preview window:

Ethan Ramsey, did you just make a dirty joke?

I knew I loved you for a reason.

A grin spread across his face on reflex, pulling so wide he was sure he looked idiotic. He could imagine the peals of laughter his awful joke elicited and he felt a smug rush of satisfaction at being the source of her amusement. Then his eyes lingered on the word “loved” and he smiled impossibly wider.

He opened their conversation fully to respond.

Lilac: I have dinner. Where are you?

Ethan: My office. Where are you?

Lilac: Your office…

Ethan: My other office, Rookie.

Lilac: Way to flex on us office-less plebeians

Ethan: You’re hilarious. Did anyone ever tell you that?

Lilac: My boyfriend tells me all the time, actually, right after telling me how beautiful I am.

Ethan: He sounds like a smart man.

Lilac: He’s alright.

Ethan: What’s for dinner?

Lilac: I made something…

Ethan: Oh no.

Lilac: Oh yes. And you love me enough to eat it without protest.

Ethan: … I never protest when I do that.

Lilac: Ethan Ramsey, did you just make a dirty joke? I knew I loved you for a reason.

Ethan: What did you make?

“Excuse me, I just have one more question…” the Josie girl said with an emboldened smile. “Who's making you smile like that?”

Ethan schooled his features at once, wondering when the kid got so bold. Probably around the same time he had allowed even the tiniest glimmer of a smile to seep through.  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Suuuuuuuure.”

“If you must know, that message was strictly work-related,” he lied. The message was the complete opposite.

“Just because it's from someone you work with doesn't mean it's ‘work-related.’”

She was right but Ethan wasn’t about to tell her that. Instead, he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. This is what he got for being nice.

Lilac’s reply came in after he ushered them away unceremoniously.

Ethan: What did you make?

Lilac: A phone call. I ordered us food from the bistro two blocks away.  

___________________________

Take-out bag in hand, Lilac rounded the corner of the hallway, eager to see Ethan after a long shift. She halted a few feet away when his office door opened to reveal a pair of teenagers, exiting with broad smiles and deep in excited conversation.

“Dakota Winchester, you beautiful genius! This was such a great idea. I can’t believe he actually agreed to do it!” The pretty, doe-eyed girl all but twirled with glee as they walked. Her companion watched her with palpable adoration and a broad grin.

“That was all you, Teach. No one can tell you no.”

The girl paused, lifting a coquettish eyebrow. “Oh, really? Should we put that to the test right now?”

Dakota nodded solemnly. “I think we have to. For science.”

“Then kiss me.”

Dakota complied gladly, leaning down to make up for their height difference. The sight was too adorable for Lilac to bear. Trying to give them as much privacy as a hallway could allow, she quietly walked around them toward Ethan's door. The tall one, Dakota, caught sight of her before she could disappear behind the door. A knowing grin was the last thing Lilac saw before both teenagers whispered conspiratorially.

Ethan was waiting for her inches away from the door, taking her in his arms as soon as it clicked shut behind her. He kissed her eagerly in greeting, holding on to her even after they broke apart.

“What was all that about?” she asked, nodding towards the door.

“Hope Springs,” he replied with a sigh. “They barged into my office and asked me to film for their donation video.”

Lilac knew her boyfriend well enough to detect when he was being overly dramatic. “That’s adorable. You’re going soft on me, Ramsey.”

Ethan threw her an ungrateful look that was not convincing in the least.

“The tall one was the Winchester kid, right? The same one who cheers up the kiddos in the pediatric ward?”

“You mean, the troublemaker who terrorizes the hospital staff and disrupts the little quiet we get around here? Yes. And now there's another sidekick.”

Lilac laughed, placing her free hand flat against his chest. “Let them. They’re in love.”

Ethan made a face. “How’d you figure?”

“I saw them outside. Dakota even has a cute little nickname for her.”

“They’re far too young to be in love. And having a nickname for someone is no indicative, Rookie.”

Lilac raised her eyebrows at his nickname for her, allowing it to make her point. Ethan caught on at once, his neck lighting up in that adorable pink hue.

“Fine,” he allowed. “Maybe they’re smarter and slightly more mature than the average teenager. Their donation film seems to hold some promise after all.”

He grimaced and added, “Even if they did ask me about you.”

Lilac pulled her chin back to give him an intrigued look. “They knew about us?”

“Not exactly. They asked me who the 'hottest' doctor in Edenbrook was.”

“And you thought of me?” she asked in mock surprise, even if her heart skipped a beat. “Dr. Ramsey, I don't know what to say. This is all so sudden.”

Ethan fought valiantly against a smile but lost in the end. “You're the hottest, no contest,” he informed her as he kissed the tip of her nose. “But I am definitely the luckiest.”

_________________________

Author’s Note: I hope someone noticed I did not specify Dakota’s gender because that was a fun challenge. And it was important to me that you pictured your Dakota as you read.

If you read this pointlessness, thank you!

Currently, I am writing non-stop so that I have a lot of stuff to share in case work gets busy. Wish me luck.

Love you guys!

-Bree

___________

[my-name-is-lumien]

Content Masterlist

Created on: 20 Feb 2021

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[alleycat97]

YALL, go and drop your f!Dakota x Mc fic ideas in ask!! I need material 🥺😩