#i just feel like it will bring up so much that i’ll feel a lot worse before i feel better and idk if i’m in the right state for that now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smallestapplin · 2 days ago

Note

getting obsessed with swerve thanks to your fic, could i request a swerve x human reader where he accidentally overstimulates the reader to the point where they squirt?? (it’s both the reader and swerve’s first time and they’re both so messy and affectionate)

at the end swerve is like absolutely flabbergasted at the reader squirting and he’s like “soooo… how’d i do?”

happy new year also!!!

-favicon anon 🩵🩵

I like the way you think! (Also sorry if there re any errors, my autocorrect hates me.)

Warnings : enby afab reader, squirting, swerve being a pussy fiend. Oral fem receiving

🔞Minors do NOT interact! Adults only!🔞

Word count : 2,212😔 I went a tad overboard.

You both are a little awkward, and who can blame you when Swerve is over twice your size, and who can blame him when you are so much smaller than him? Despite being a minibot he’s still at least four or five feet taller than you, not to mention how much thicker he is than you.

The size difference between you two is made more apparent as he leans over you, his cheeks flushed blue with energon realizing he’s finally going to get to taste you, to please you and finally make his claim. But you look so cute under him like this, removing any of your coverings, letting him fully see your soft body.

He’s never been with a human before, especially never interfaced with one! Primus, what if he messes up? What if he hurts you on accident? Oh, he’d never be able to live with himself if anything happened to you-

“Swerve, you’re overthinking it.”

The bot snaps for his thoughts by your voice, followed by a soft chuckle as you grab his right servo gently moving it to your face to kiss his palm. His cheeks burn with color, frame trembling slightly from the affection.

“I just don’t wanna hurt you, Doll.”

What a sweet bot you have.

“You aren’t doing to hurt me, I’ll let you know if it gets to be too much, okay?”

How can he answer when you look so pretty under him, it’s a chore keeping his optics from wandering down your naked body, how your chest slightly moves with each breath, how he can smell your arsoual even feel it in your weak EM field, beckoning him further, silently asking him to take you to have you.

He nods dumbly readily agreeing with easy before he could find his voice, stopping you just as you started to sit up.

“Can…can I prep you first? I-I wanna make you feel good and make sure you’re wet enough for me.”

Swerve knows you want to please him too, suck off his spike, and while his spike twitches and valve clenches at the thought, he knows your body is going to need a lot more prep with just how much bigger he is than you, he doesn’t even know if your human valve will be able to take all of his.

“Are you sure? I want to make you feel good too.” You sit up from his berth, wrapping your arms best you could around his neck and resting your forehead against his.

“I finally get to have you like this, I want to learn your body, see what brings you the most pleasure, see how I can make you tick-“

You’re cut off as he slams his dermas against your lips, effectively silencing you. Had you spoken anymore he might’ve just overloaded right then and there, and he can’t do that so soon when he hasn’t even gotten to touch you yet!

Swerve pulls off your lips and hangs his helm down on your chest.

“Don’t talk like that.” It’s cute how his vocie cracks and waivers just from a few dirty words.

“Ok, ok, use me how you wish then.”

His optics widen under his visor, watching you lay back in your pervious spot and spreading your legs just enough to give him a teasing view of your leaking slit, all the kissing and heavy petting earlier had gotten you going, you don’t want to stop now.

Swerve let’s out a strangled whimper at the mere sight, struggling to remain up right and now take you or devour you right then.

“Frag, you’re so pretty.”

You smile at him, a teasing laugh muffled by your hand.

“Not bad yourself, handsome-mm!” You’re cut off with a whine, dropping your head back against his berth as his tongue licks up your wet slit.

Swerve groans, ex-venting loudly at just the taste of you. The mech is quick to lose himself, his glossa lapping messily and wildly at your pussy, as if trying to devour you, drink up every drop of slick you have to offer him.

He's a fast learner, growing more and more confident and comfortable with setting a pace. He moans, groaning so loud against you, the vibrations making your thighs squeeze around his helm.

Fuck, the taste is even better

It's like a switch flipped inside him, going from hesitant and gentle, to a thirsty deprived man the second he tasted you and knew what made you tick.

What he lacks in true technique he makes up with pure, raw enthusiasm.

"H-hey I’m not- oh, haaa…so…so good..!”

You try to plead, try to reason with him, this is his first time going down on you he doesn't need to rush, but it's like he doesn't hear you, he can’t hear you. Shakily, you look down trying to meet the bright gleam of his visor, if only you could see his optics rolling back as he shoves his glossa into your clenching hole, messily slurping up all your dripping slick.

Stars above he can't believe he deprived himself of such a pretty valve! All this time such a fragging meal has been in front of him, and he had no idea! He has to make up for it, he needs as much as he can get, he needs more and then some.

You place a hand on his helm, trying to push him away to slow him down a bit, but yet it doesn't work. Swerve’s servos clamp down on your thighs, shoving his face plate impossibly closer to your pussy and making sure your thighs are tight around his helm.

There is no reasoning with a bot gone mad.

His grunts and feverish moans increase, making you look passed his helm to see his hips sloppily moving, humping the berth subconsciously, as if he has no idea he's doing it, merely fueled by his need for you.

You don't get time to think about it more before you're rocking your hips against his face plate, your eyes fluttering and crossing as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

Swerve is drooling, sounding more beast than machine as his body trembles. He had no idea giving pleasure would feel so good, it's like every sound, every twitch, every clench you make just sends a zap of ecstasy through him, making his heavy spike twitch and leak transfluid.

He can't get enough!

Swerve pulls his glossa out from you, licking along your hole to your clit, messily kissing your pulsing nub before wrapping his lips around it with a light suction. His valve clenches at how your thrash, near shrieking with him continuing to make you feel good after cumming not moments ago.

You dig your heels into his upper back strut, but the mild pain doesn't even phase him.

"Oh fuck, fuck, please, I can't!!" You can feel drool leaking down your chin, chilling your hot skin with the cold room air.

If he could just give you a moment, catch your breath-

Your back arches off the bed, a loud cry of yours echoes in the habsuite. Swerve kisses your clit once more, only pulling away to spit on your messy hole before moving one of his hands down and slicking up his middle and ring finger in the mixture of his spit and your juices.

His thick digits easily slide in, stretching you open around them.

"Swerve…you’re so…oh god.” you whine his name, missing the warmth of his intake but looking down you see him not even glancing up at you, clearly staring at your pussy, watching his digits disappear into you.

He's mesmerized, learning more and more about your body just makes him want to overload so badly.

You open your mouth once more, fully intending to talk him through fingering you, though you're swiftly cut off by a squeak ripping itself from your lips.

He's already moving his fingers, gently pushing them in and out, slightly curling his fingers, trying to find anything that makes you scream.

But he can't keep his intake off you too long, already licking and nipping at your throbbing nub, desperate to make you cum again, wanting to taste more of you. Your chest is heaving, panting and mewling as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

He's a fast learner, much faster than you expected, but that’s just the vicious need he has for you, it's like he's tuned to your body, watching and picking up the smallest cues you give and make.

You didn't expect him to find your g-spot so quickly.

"Ohhh fuck!...haaa..! Right there, please please right there!!" your voice breaks, whining for him to curl his fingers again.

And he happily does. His hazy optics finally glance up to your sweaty trembling body, watching in a daze as your hands grip his helm so tightly

Tossing your head back with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing down on his fingers with your cum gushing around them. Swiftly, he moves from your clit to your hole, taking his digits out and licking up your mess.

His spike throbs, spruting his hot transfluid onto the berth below him, yet he can't stop rutting against the now soiled bed, no matter how sensitive his spike gets he can't help himself.

Now two for two, but his greed and thirst only grow.

Swerve wants more, to keep eating you out until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess beneath him, he needs it so much, pussy whipped for his little human. But he’s so desperate to shove his spike into you, your cute little valve is all spread open, taunting him, tempting him, clenching down on nothing to lure him into fragging you.

“Fuck me…please just fuck me already, I can take it.” You’re near tears, just needing his fat spike inside you.

Your pitiful expression sends him scrambling up, moving his helm from between your legs and finally placing your legs on either side of his hips. Your eyes widen at the sight of just realizing how much bigger he is than you, his dick especially resting over your pussy, as he grinds his fluid covered spike against your slit, mixing your juices together.

You doubt he’s going to fit, could he even fit all of that inside you?

“Is this okay? I don’t want to move without you sayin so.”

Before he could ramble on a moment further you’ve made up your mind, seeing the large bot above you shaking, his cheeks flushed blue with energon, and that dorky smile of his wavering.

You reach up grabbing his cheeks and yank his face down, slamming your lips against his muffling his choked sounds. You barely pull away from him to speak.

“Don’t make me beg. I wanna feel you inside me, fucking me, please?”

Swerve makes a dumb sound, exventing loudly as he weakly mutters a rushed out ‘yeah okay’ as he scrambles to carefully line up the tip of his spike to your needy hole and slowly pushes in. Swerve chokes at the feeling, you’re so tight around him even after all that prep! It’s like you’re trying to milk him of all his transfluid, make him overload again and again.

Drool drips down his chin from his open intake, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as he tries so hard not to blow his load early. You are fighting to take every inch of him, he’s so big! His chubby cock fills out your cunt so much, too much even.

Every push just makes his shaft drag across your sweet spot, putting pressure on them the more of his spike he makes you take, your eyes flutter, slowly rolling back into your head.

“O-ohh! Don’t, don’t clench like that—!!” Swerve squeals, his voice cracking as your pussy clenches down on his spike. The bot nearly overloads at the sight of your human valve gushing around him.

A cry leaving your lips as you cum again, though it’s swiftly morphed into a loud sob as Swerve’s hips buck into you, shoving more and more of his spike into your stuffed pussy.

His hips moving on their own, he can’t stop it! Feels so good so good, he’s losing his mind! He hunches over you, folding you in half to make it easier to rut into you, fucking you, intending to make his claim, fill you.

You’ve lost track of how many times he’s med you cum, even how long it’s been since he managed to push his spike inside you, molding your pussy to his shape within hours.

“Just one more, pleasepleaseplease one more, overload for me, take my transfluid-“

He keeps rambling, muttering and crying out words your muddled mind can barely comprehend.

You weakly whine, feeling yet another gush of hot transfluid filling your already stuffed pussy. Swerve barely stops himself from collapsing ontop of you, his body trembling at the effort to hold himself up, but he wants so much more.

He leans back with a heavy sigh, his fans working overtime to cool him down.

“So…um…did I do good?” He looks hopeful, like a dog waiting for praise.

As if he hasn’t just fucked you stupid for hours on end, your pussy still leaking his spent.

#smut #spicy #🔞🔞🔞#valveplug #transformers smut #transformers swerve smut #transformers swerve x reader #transformers swerve x reader smut #transformers x reader #transformers idw x reader #transformers lost light

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starredblood · 14 hours ago

Text

NOWHERE GIRL

PART THREE

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: sae-byeok gets a concerning call from her brother while you start to get paranoid of yesterdays events.

wc. 2.3k

warnings: one mention of murder, mentions of bullying

(nowhere girl masterlist)

There is a lot Sae-byeok should thank Ji-yeong for in her life. They both met purely by chance. Whilst Ji-yeong had to do community service by cleaning up the park, she couldn’t help but notice a little pickpocketing thief roaming around. It amused her. When she approached Sae-byeok, the North Korean was the most guarded she’s ever been. It took Ji-yeong a year to finally get a name from her and her revealing where she truly came from and why she is living a life of crime.

Although Ji-yeong didn’t have much either, she felt bad for the girl who felt like the world had already given up on her. So, she gave Sae-byeok the opportunity to work at her old bakery job. Soon after, Ji-yeong suggested they should move in together as it would financially be beneficial since they can cut the cost of necessities like groceries. Surprisingly, Sae-byeok agreed but only with one condition: she will bring her little brother Cheol with her. Ji-yeong didn’t know that she had a sibling, nor that Sae-byeok was saving as much as she could through her job at the bakery and pickpocketing to have Cheol under her wing again. But she agreed nevertheless.

Sae-byeok knew that it would be hard for Cheol to transition from a children’s home to being under her guardianship and go to a proper South Korean school. Cheol, although naturally introverted, had a hard time getting along with the other kids at the children’s home. With all the trauma and isolation he had to endure at such a young age, he felt like otherworldly to the other kids. And he lets his accent slip from time to time so it worries Sae-byeok sometimes.

She thought that that the hard part was over, but new challenges arise everyday and she feels like she can never rest.

Sae-byeok was jotting down a customers cake order when the phone began to ring. The owner, Miss Ahn popped up from the kitchen to pick it up. At first she answers the phone with her usual warm tone which soon wavers into a worrying one. Sae-byeok takes a quick glance at Miss Ahn but didn’t have time to notice her concerned expression as she was still taking an order.

“Sae-byeok,” Miss Ahn says, cupping the side of her face with her hand and passing the phone to Sae-byeok when she finished helping the customer. “it’s…for you, dear.”

She mumbles a thank you to her and brings the phone up to her ear. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“N—Noona.” she hears a sniffling Cheol on the other end of the call and her stomach churns.

“Cheol, what happened? Are you alright?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“Can you come pick me up…I’m not feeling well.” he says weakly.

Sae-byeok’s breath hitches. “I’m on my way just stay put I’ll be there as fast as I can, alright?”

“O—Okay.”

Sae-byeok hangs up the phone and peers down at Miss Ahn, they both exchange a look of distress.

“Go. Don’t worry—and I won’t cut your pay for today.” she rubs the sides of Sae-byeok’s shaking arms, smiling weakly.

Sae-byeok isn’t used to kindness. “Thank you.” she whispers, although she isn’t sure if she actually said it out loud. Miss Ahn urges her to leave quicker, so she grabs her keys and wallet and sprints out the bakery forgetting that she still has her apron wrapped around her upper body.

She pulls out her phone to check whether taking the bus or running would get her to Cheol quicker. When the map shows that she’ll arrive five minutes earlier by bus she rushes to the nearest bus stop.

Although the bus arrived in a few short minutes, every second that Sae-byeok isn’t with Cheol feels like an eternity. When she got on and found a seat in the back corner, she stared out the window while bouncing her legs uncontrollably. She’s certain that people are throwing weird looks at her behavior but she doesn’t care.

When she makes it to the school, Sae-byeok has to wait another agonizing five minutes for the staff to retrieve Cheol and the anticipation was slowly killing her.

Cheol’s eyes were glued to the ground as he and a school staff walk side by side to the front lobby. When Sae-byeok spots him coming she kneels down and lightly grabs him by the sides of his face.

“Cheol, are you okay? Are you sick?” she presses the back of her hand on his forehead, he was warm but not enough to signal that he has a fever. But Cheol nods. “Are you able to walk or do you want me to carry you on my back?”

Cheol purses his lips in thought. “On…your back?” Before Sae-byeok spins around to carry him, he quickly speaks up. “Is it okay if we can get something to eat? I didn’t have lunch—but it’s okay if you can’t. I know we can’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, we’ll get some food want to stop by a food vendor?” Sae-byeok says without further thought. Cheol bashfully nods. “Hop on my back.”

Sae-byeok did her best not to show any signs of exhaustion as she carried her brother on her back so he wouldn’t second guess himself. Although the sun was beaming, it’ll all be worthwhile by the time they make it to the park with their lunch.

The two siblings found a bench shaded underneath a large tree. Sae-byeok handed Cheol the cup of tteokbokki from the street vendor.

“I already ate.” she lies, knowing that that’s the reason why he’s so hesitant to eat the food. He looks up at her, with round doe eyes then back down on the tteokbokki and to her relief he slowly starts eating. Sae-byeok’s eyes wander around the park while contemplating if she should ask Cheol the real reason why he wanted to skip school today. She already has her suspicions.

She waits for him to finish eating before she talks with him. “Cheol.”

“Hm?”

Sae-byeok exhales. “You aren’t sick, right?” Cheol bats his eyes up at her, cheeks burning red. “I’m not mad so you can tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want to stay in school?”

Cheol’s eyes start to gloss over and his bottom lip quiver. Sae-byeok rubs his back reassuringly.

“They’re all so mean here, Noona.” he whispers, wiping the tear streak with the hem of his sleeve. Sae-byeok’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach. This is what she was afraid of.

“Are they…bullying you?” she asks carefully.

Cheol shrugs. “They keep making fun of my accent.”

“Did you tell a teacher?”

“Yes but…they only do it during recess time.”

That’s why he said he was hungry. He wanted to skip recess time.

“But,” Cheol says hopeful. Sae-byeoks peers away from the ground to look at him. “I think I made a friend. He defended me the other day.”

Sae-byeok wants to be happy for Cheol, but things like kindness and empathy isn’t a luxury they tend to experience. But she tries her best to form a smile for him.

“That’s great, Cheol.”

He takes a final bite off the rice cake then speaks again. “He also likes to color so during lunch time we color with the oil pastels your new friend gave me.” he lets out a gasp of remembrance and starts rummaging through his bag. He hands his sister a drawing. The drawing was of him, Sae-byeok, and their parents all holding hands smiling.

Sae-byeok didn’t notice how hard she was clutching onto the sides of the paper, or how her eyes began to form tears.

“Noona? I’m sorry—“

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” she quickly says. “It’s amazing. You’re really talented.”

The Kang siblings share an embrace. After years of feeling isolated by this new world, slowly but surely they are getting there.

They spent another hour or so at the park until they decided to get back home, Sae-byeok carrying Cheol on her back the entire way home since she used her last bit of disposable income for the bus and Cheol’s lunch. By the time they arrived, Ji-yeong already made it back and she spoke loudly on the phone with someone until saw the two arrive so she tones herself down.

“Go get changed.” Sae-byeok tells her brother. He nods and scurries to their room.

She leans her body on the kitchen counter, waiting for Ji-yeong to end her phone call.

“My uncle.” Ji-yeong says when she tosses her phone across the counter. “He gave my piece of shit dad this address so now I’m receiving his letters.” she points with her chin at the stack of letters on the living room coffee table.

“What is he saying?”

“I don’t know—I haven’t opened them. Probably some bullshit excuse about why he murdered my mom.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t say anything. It always astounds her how freely Ji-yeong speaks of her past traumas. But they’ve spoken about them so many times it no longer takes a toll on them to say the words aloud.

“Why did you pick up, Cheol early from school?” she asks.

“Some kids kept making fun of him.”

Jiyeong purses her lips. “It’ll get better for him over time.” her roommate just shakes her head in agreement. “Also, this might be a bad time, but we need to get groceries.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It was easy to tell how defeated Sae-byeok appears to be. Her bangs still clinging to the sweat on her forehead, she still has on her work apron on, and her breathing is still unsteady.

“Actually,” Ji-yeong chuckles nervously. “nevermind. You can stay here with Cheol I will just go.”

“Okay.” Sae-byeok says, too tired to retort back.

When Ji-yeong leaves the kitchen to go get dressed in her room, Sae-byeok pulls out a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket and starts to unfold it. She grabs the kitchen magnet and hangs Cheol’s drawing on the fridge then makes her way to the couch where she lies face down.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

As long as you had your internship at the art gallery, your sanity will remain intact. Or so you hope.

However, today was a heavier workload at the art gallery with majority of your morning being unpacking and installing a new exhibition. And by the time you and your co-workers finished the morning task, it was lunch time and you both agreed to eat outside rather than in the break room.

“So, now can you tell me what happened?” your college friend and co-worker Mi-Cha asks once you guys found a secluded area in the outdoor dining hall of the gallery.

“Yoon came up to me in class and asked me if the ‘rumors’ were true.” you explain with fervor in your voice, stabbing your salad with a plastic fork. A gasp escapes Mi-Cha’s lips. “And I didn’t say anything but I guess she saw the look on my face which gave it away then after she went to tell her friends. So, yeah, I’m probably screwed.”

“No, you aren’t screwed. This is a very developed school—we go to an art school for goodness sake!” she says to soothe your anxious mind. “I’m sure no one will care, especially with finals season coming up.”

“You’re right.” you mumble. “But Yoon is so kind. Do you really think she’s—?”

“I don’t know. She seems cool but you can never really tell what people’s intentions are, it’s scary.”

“Well, I’d rather not try to figure it out. I just have to avoid her and her friend group for the rest of the semester.“ next thing you know, you let out a laugh. “This is so ridiculous! You would think that we are past bullying and mean girl cliques by now? The fact that I have to be afraid of running into Yoon of all people is so childish.”

“Some people just can’t let go of their high school years. It’s sad.” your friend sighs.

You two sit in silence for a bit to finish your food before it’s time to go to work again.

“Hey.” Mi-Cha says out of the blue. While still chewing on your salad, you raise both your eyebrows to signal to her that you have her attention. “How is that new place you’re staying at going?”

“Eh.” you shrug. “Ji-yeong, my old classmate, is nice. A little aloof but she’s really nice overall and keeps packing my lunches hence this salad. Her roommate though...”

“Ah. Bitchy?”

“Not bitchy more like—how should I put this—guarded? I’m pretty sure her and her brother are defectors so maybe that explains why she doesn’t trust me. Because she definitely thinks I’m going to steal their shit or something. But I’m only staying with them until Friday so.” you shrug.

“Where are you staying once you leave?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” you admit shamefully. “Maybe a shelter.”

“What?” Mi-Cha’s eyes widen. “No, come stay with me at my dormitory again—“

“I can’t it’s too risky. All the resident assistants recognize me now so if I get caught one more time I could lose my scholarship and then everything really go to shit. I just need to weight it out until this semester and summer break so I can live in the dorms in the fall.”

You two sit in silence to process the stressful situation you’re currently in. Your cheeks bloom red in embarrassment.

“Wow…I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” Mi-Cha mumbles.

Her pouty lips make you chuckle. “Hey, don’t cry before we have to go back to work. Again.” you say to lighten the mood.

“That was so embarrassing last time.” Mi-Cha facepalms. “That poor old lady endured my venting when all she wanted was to buy an art piece—I��ll never live that down.”

“At least she agreed that your ex was being a complete asshole.” you add.

“Yeah and she snuck a twenty dollar bill to my pocket. Gosh…sometimes old people are truly the best.”

You hum in agreement and wipe your hands with a napkin. Since there were only five minutes left till lunch is over the two of you start packing up your things and head over to the break room.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13

#kang sae byeok #kang sae byeok squid game #kang sae byeok x reader #kang sae byeok x fem!reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfic

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hannahssimblr · 22 hours ago

Text

Astrid,

Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you.

We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?

At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts.

Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.

xxx Jude.

I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway.

“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”

“No, I feel slightly better.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”

“Yes. Bring it to me.”

I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”

“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”

“To the post office.”

“Another postcard to Astrid.”

“Yes.”

I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”

“She’s an independent person.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what she is doing today.”

“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”

“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”

“It’s Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“I signed up for something today.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”

“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”

I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him.

“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”

“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”

“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”

“Not far off.”

“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”

I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”

“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”

“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”

I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2011 #his COLOUR #i feel a bit sick looking at him actually #feel better soon king

34 notes · View notes

zepskies · 3 days ago

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Hahaa this one was DEFINITELY meant to both tug and your heart strings and take you on a rocky ride, so I honestly love to hear that. 😘💜

honestly for a moment this scared me because of the chapter title/warnings 😭 phew! lol

loll gotchaaa!

i swear my brain short circuited for a moment, i was like where did i miss this ??? …and then i read the next few lines 🤣 that early morning spice was so good 🙂‍↕️❤️‍🔥 and the pregnancy added a nice layer of tenderness 🥹♥️ loveeeeeee protective dean <333

LOL yeah we did a bit of time jump there. 😏

Ooh I'm so glad you liked that part~~ I just love that slow early morning spice, both to write and to read. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 And yes now that she's pregnant, it's both softening Dean up even more from those hardened soldier layers, but also heaping another layer of responsibility and worry on his shoulders lol. 😅

no wayyyyyy😭 this is so cute loll, the mato x baby fandom is thriving :p

ahahaha ALL the parallels in this fic!! 😝🐴

sammyyyyyy!!!!!!!!🤍🤍🥹 i had a feeling it would be him, i’m so happy he showed :’)

Hahaaa it's about damn time he showed up, right? 😆

😭😭🥺 plsssssss this was so sweet 💗

They're developing that married couple telepathy.~ 🤣

cryinggggg 🥺 i love their brotherly bond. in this story especially it reminds me so much of “Brother Bear”, if you’ve seen that movie 😅

Omg I LOVE Brother Bear!! So sad/bittersweet but so good, and underrated as a Disney movie. Honestly I cry every time. 😭 That's a lot like Sam and Dean's brotherly bond in this case for sure. ❤️‍🩹

that being said, those moments of anger/frustration from sam (completely understandable) were written so well, they added so much depth to their reunion 🫶🏽 it was so bittersweet, which is exactly what their situation is :( i hope they can meet again someday 🤍

Aw thank you!! 🥹 yes I thought Sam being frustrated, even angry at Dean's responses would make sense, not only for the situation, but for Sam's personality. It's really bittersweet, but as for if we see Sam again in this series...

:(((((( man, rip buddy.

Aww thank you for highlighting that line and this moment in the chapter! Weirdly enough, that was a really simple line but it ended up being one of my favorites for this chapter. 💔

awwwwwwwwwww💖😭 sobbing. i’ll always love a good sibling duo. <3

Dean had to set him straight on that one, jerky be damned! lmaoo 😭😭

hmmm…I still don’t trust otaktay. what is he up to 🤔

Hahaa I don't blame you for being suspicious. For now he's just observing, but you'll see more of him in the final chapter...

oh goooooosshhhhhh

loll if you think there's been drama and action so far, just wait for Part 4. 😬

another wonderful chapter lovely!💗 looking forward to the finale 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽

Thank you so much, Julie!! I can't wait to bring you guys the finale next Friday!! 🥳💕

Outlander - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won?

AN: Back into the saddle, so to speak. 😏 Plus, we have a very special guest joining the cast...

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 8.1K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blood and character death.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: A Warrior’s Death

Mila has never enjoyed being an early riser, but sometimes, it has its benefits. In the rare times that she wakes up before Dean, she’s taken to counting the small nicks and scares that mark his body, from his chest and arms and back, down to his calloused hands. They mark him as a warrior.

Today, she slips her fingers through his brown hair. It’s grown a little more, and it’s easy to spike wildly in all directions. His breathing shifts from the deeper, slower ones of sleep to shallower ones.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbles, despite the way his lips twitch at a smile. His eyes are still closed.

“It’s morning, and I’m lonely,” Mila teases. She leans in to kiss his chin, then slowly and sensuously across his prickly jawline.

“Can’t you entertain yourself until the sun comes up all the way?” he says, in a voice laden with grit and sleep.

“That is what I’m doing,” is her cheeky reply.

Dean releases a deep breath that’s more like a sigh. Mila continues, smoothing her hand across his shoulder and squeezing warmly as she makes her way down his neck with kisses. She takes to nibbling his skin, then soothing it with her tongue. He makes a throaty sound of pleasure, gripping her hip.

“Wake up, my love,” she whispers.

Dean feels the shape of her smile against his skin. His lips tug upwards too, before he chuckles and finally succumbs to her wily ways. He twists onto his back and takes her with him, guiding her leg to slip over his lap. She squeals in surprise to be moved, but it ends with her smiling down at him as she straddles his hips. His hands travel under her the thin fabric of her shift and squeeze the supple flesh of her thighs.

Her fingertips drag down his chest, teasing his nipples along the way. She begins to tease him in other ways too, subtly rolling her hips, rocking against his hardening length. She wears a heated, playful look he knows all too well. He smirks up at her lazily.

“You’ve been more demanding than usual,” he remarks. His hold on her hips tightens, encouraging her to grind down harder onto him. He groans in pleasure at the feeling of her bare, wet folds against his clothed erection. Still, he can’t help but tease her too. “You already got what you wanted. I got you good and pregnant.”

His knees slide up to press against her ass, angling her more firmly against his cock. She hums in pleasure at the feeling of him, nice and hard and ready to fill her. It doesn’t matter that he’s right.

She’s pregnant, and has been for over a month now, according to Eyota. Even so, Mila still craves her husband. She wants to take advantage of a good morning, one where she doesn’t feel sick to her stomach.

“Yes,” she agrees, “but you think that means your duty is done?”

She takes his hands from her thighs and moves them up her body underneath her shift, until he can palm her breasts. He obliges her, rolling the sensitive buds under his thumbs.

Dean chuckles deeply. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“I will say when I’ve had enough,” she quips back.

He smiles, more genuinely this time. “Yes, ma’am.”

He takes back control of his hands. One holds her steady by her waist, while the other drags back down her body, brushing over the thatch of hair covering her mound. His fingers slip between her wet folds, and they find what they’re looking for.

She utters a keening moan when the pads of his fingers probe gently at her entrance, pushing inside for a few pulsing beats. He gathers some wetness there and begins to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves above her entrance. She grinds her hips down as she tries to press into his hand. A shudder of pleasure tingles down her spine and throbs deliciously in her core.

She grips his arms tight. “Please,” she says, “I’m ready for you.”

“Already?” he smirks. “I’ve barely touched you.”

Instead of answering him, she drags down his pants herself and reaches for his heavy cock. He moans at her touch, demanding, but still careful as she pumps him to full readiness. Then she notches him at her entrance. Dean grabs her hips and slowly guides her over him in one smooth plunge.

Their breathing becomes more labored as they take beat, just to revel in the connection.

During the day, they both lead busy lives. They each do their part for the tribe to make sure there’s food to eat, clothes to wear, and that the tribe stays protected—but the time they spend together here doesn’t need to be rushed. This is their time.

Mila hesitates to move though, her hands flexing on his shoulders. Her thighs squeeze his hips experimentally.

“How should I move?” she asks in a whisper. “I’ve never…ridden you.”

Dean grins. He rubs her thighs encouragingly. “Trust your instincts, baby. Try just rocking on me.”

He helps her by guiding her hips in a smooth, rolling rhythm, in and out. Mila moans as the shallow friction builds a slow momentum inside her.

“See,” he pants, “you’re a natural.”

She smiles, her face warming in a blush. As she craves more, she becomes bolder, letting his cock drag out of her almost to its tip, before she pushes all the way back in. Dean utters a faltering moan, and tries not to let his eyes close in pleasure. He wants to keep watching the way she gets herself off on his cock, the way her full breasts bounce with her movements.

Dean’s hands slide up her back to feel the gentle slope. He leans up to kiss and suck at her tightened nipples, his teeth catching on them. She gasps and arches against him. Her nails scramble for purchase between his shoulder blades.

Dean chuckles into her skin. “So sensitive. Being so fucking good for me, huh baby?”

Mila nods, half out of her mind. He blazes an upward path, kissing and sucking between her breasts, along the line of her collarbone, and then at her neck. He stops there to suck hard at her pulse point, burying his fingers tightly in her hair.

She moans and clings to him as she rocks a harder rhythm on top of him. She chases her release, and tries to help him reach his. But when his fingers slip in between them to massage her clit again, she shudders deeply and gasps. “Dean.” Her inner walls clench tightly on his cock and begin to flutter and pulse around him.

He drives his hips up into her with a few wild, harsher thrusts with his own release. He grunts sharply into her neck as he spills deep inside her.

Mila holds him tightly to her while her heart races. She pants for breath, huffing because her hair has fallen into her eyes. Dean brushes the strands behind her ear as he too catches his breath. He lays back down and takes her with him, gratefully stroking her back.

“Well, good morning,” he says. His voice is like hot gravel. “Fuckin’ hell…”

She giggles breathlessly against his chest. By now she’s learned many of the English curse words. They often sound both harsh and funny to her. Though she knows that right now, it’s a compliment.

They lay together for a while, even after she untangles herself from him and grabs a washcloth to clean them both. She finds herself led back into Dean’s embrace under the warm furs. His large hand spans her lower belly, resting there.

“You want a boy or a girl?” he asks. His deep voice is still a bit coarse with sleep.

Mila considers his question while pillowing her cheek against her folded arms.

“I want to give you a son,” she says.

Dean’s lips twitch into a smile. He hums thoughtfully while he slips his fingers through her hair.

“I guess that means I’ll have to teach him things. Things about the world,” he says. She turns in his arms to face him.

“What would you teach him?” she asks, with a smile of her own. She asks the question not only because she genuinely wants to know, but because she likes the soft glow of optimism and possibilities reflected in Dean’s eyes. In some ways, he’s already different from the hardened soldier she first met. Or maybe she’s just continuing to learn more and more of who he really is—layer by layer.

“Well, how to learn from his mistakes, for one thing,” he says. “How to protect himself, and his family. How to survive, but also how to live.” He thinks about it a bit harder for a second.

“Come to think of it, I’d teach my daughter all that too,” he says. “So I guess I’ve got no preference.”

And we can always try again, he thinks.

“He will be strong, like his father,” Mila says.

“Or like his mother,” Dean playfully replies. She smiles back, and she leans forward to kiss his lips. She cups his cheek with a gentle, loving hand. Dean squeezes her waist and pulls her tighter against him.

“Are you two going to sleep all day, or are you going to join the rest of the world and start working?” Šóta interrupts, loudly from outside their tipi. “The horses need to be fed, Horsemaster.”

Dean and Mila break apart from the kiss, and they share a look, hers more annoyed than his. Her cousin has taken what she said to him before about being a leader to heart, if in some unexpected (and annoying) ways.

She sighs, but unfortunately, Šóta has a point. It prompts them to get up and start getting dressed.

“What do you got planned today?” Dean asks, while he tries to find a clean shirt.

“I have some mending to do and laundry to take down. Then I will help my aunts skin the hides and prepare the vegetables for lunch and supper,” she says.

He pauses, leveling her with a warning look. “Hey, remember to take it easy, all right. Don’t strain yourself.”

She just smiles and touches his cheek. This man is a protector in all senses, and it seems, also a worrier.

Dean takes pride in corralling the horses and making sure they’re fed, brushed, and given water. Just like he suspected would happen, Mato and Baby have been getting along a little too well. She’s now pregnant too.

Ironically enough, it means she’ll give birth to her foal around the time Eyota believes Mila will deliver their child, maybe a month or two after.

Ain’t that just life, he thinks.

There’s another colt that Dean has spent the past week breaking in. He’s wily and precocious, giving Dean a challenge, but that’s what he likes about the guy.

“You’ve got spirit, kid, I’ll give you that,” Dean says.

He has a rawhide lead tied around the horse’s neck while he runs around the corral. He’s waiting until the horse tires himself out, so Dean can really begin training him, getting him used to a bridle, teaching him verbal cues, and all the rest.

Back at Fort Laramie, there were those like Colonel Sanderson, who believed that breaking a horse meant you had to break his independence, his spirit. Dean’s father had always taught him that a bond between him and an animal, a bond based on trust, will serve him better with a loyal horse rather than just an obedient one. He’s glad that the Lakota here share his views on horse rearing.

At about mid-morning, Chatan comes over to inspect Dean’s progress. His ankle has healed, mostly, but he’s allowed Dean to take over the harder work when it comes to breaking the horses. Chatan is still teaching him their ways in training them, making bridles and simple saddles, and all the other ways they care for their horses here. He inspects Dean’s work with the colt and nods.

“You’re doing well,” he says.

That’s a big improvement from all the times he’s given Dean some form of correction or instruction. Dean is about to reply, when Šóta and Takoda come over the hill on horseback. Šóta calls for both Chatan and Dean—especially Dean.

“You should see this,” Šóta says.

“Are the other men coming?” Dean says, keeping his voice low as Baby plods along beside Šóta.

“No,” Šóta replies. “We must keep the group small.”

Dean namely meant Otaktay, who still tries his best to ignore him.

Takoda has warmed up to him more though. He doesn’t call him Outlander anymore, let alone wašíču. He’s also the tribe’s best fisherman, and when they eat lunch together, he’s started to save Dean the second-biggest fish after Šóta.

Takoda even showed him how to fletch his own arrows. And when Dean broke his whet stone while sharpening his knife, Takoda gave him his own whet stone.

“I make new one,” he said, in broken English, even with a smile. “This one old anyway.”

At first, Dean used to wonder why some people in the tribe seemed to have better English, like Mila, Tahatan, and Šóta, but others didn��t. After he thought about it more, he supposed he wouldn’t want to learn his enemy’s language. He asked Šóta about it once.

“It’s the opposite for me,” Šóta told him. “I want to know what my enemy says behind my back. Then, I will be ready when he strikes.”

He now leads them away from the forest and across the grasslands. In an hour, they reach a desert valley, where Dean already hears the construction. A new stretch of railroad is being laid out, courtesy of the U.S. government. Dean even spots Benny, Jack, and Colonel Sanderson himself supervising the construction.

Shit, Dean thinks.

They stealthily crept back into the forest and returned to the village. They bring the news of what they saw to Chief Tahatan in his tipi. His wives are there, along with Chatan, Weaya, Mila, Eyota and her husband Hanska. The last two are the medicine man and woman of this tribe, but Hanska is also their wiseman. He advises the Chief.

“We should move the village again, farther north along the river,” Hanska suggests.

“And what? They will keep pushing us back until there is nothing left—until we fall of the edge of the earth!” Šóta shouts. He’s getting more and more angry as the conversation becomes a deliberation on what to do next.

“It’s the Northern Pacific Railroad,” Dean says. He doesn’t know if it’s place to speak, but he feels that he has to. “They mean to keep building until they reach the coast in the Northwest.”

“See? They will rape more and more of the land to do it,” Šóta says. “Our land. We cannot let this stand.”

Dean gives him a wary look. “This is bigger than the tribe. If you try to hit them, they’re just gonna hit back harder. And they’re going to bring the full weight of the U.S. Army on top of you.”

“So what do you suggest we do, Dean Winchester?” Tahatan says. “Sit and do nothing while they continue to carve into our home, where we have lived and died for generations?”

“I think…you should look at the faces around you,” Dean says. “Ask yourself how many of them you’re willing to lose.”

That evening in the privacy of their tent, Dean tries his best to soothe Mila’s worry, but his own trepidation and sense of urgency wins out as he paces back and forth.

“Just moving up the river won’t be enough,” he says. “We could go southwest into Montana, towards the Yellowstone River.”

Mila shakes her head warily. She sits by the fire and watches him cross the room again. He makes her anxious, and so she grabs onto his hand and leads him to sit beside her.

“The Crow people live along Yellowstone,” she says. “The Lakota have fought them for generations.”

“About what?”

“Land,” she admits. “Our tribes are proud and do not like to share hunting territory. The Crow are bitter enemies. They will not accept us there.”

That is putting it mildly. She shudders to think what the Crow would do to them if they crossed paths in their own land.

Dean nods. “Okay, well, what about if we go further north?”

She ponders the idea. Even though she doesn’t like the idea of leaving the river, where her people have settled for decades, she believes what he says is true. Her people wouldn’t win in a head-on fight against the U.S. Army.

“East of Big Cheyenne, there is a bigger territory of land. Other Sioux tribes live there,” she says. “The path is long from here to there, but it could be the answer.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Dean nods. “…I just don’t know how Tahatan and the rest of ‘em are gonna take the idea coming from me. To them, I probably sound like a coward.”

Mila shakes her head and grasps his arm. “You are no coward, Dean. I will help you talk to my father. When he understands, then we will speak to my uncle.”

“And Šóta?” Dean says wryly.

“Šóta is young and wants to prove himself to my uncle. He is brave and strong, but doesn’t consider what we could lose,” Mila says, holding a hand over the small swell of her stomach. Dean covers her hand with his.

“Whatever comes next, I’m not letting anything happen to you. You understand?” he says.

Her face, and the tension in her shoulders, relax. She doesn’t quite manage to smile, but she rests her head against his shoulder.

“Yes,” she nods.

Days become a week, and the men of the tribe begin to notice Cavalry patrols edging closer to the village. Too close.

Dean tries to convince Šóta to let them pass by in ignorance. Attacking them would not only heighten the risk of the military discovering Dean’s alive, but it would just put the entire tribe in more unnecessary danger.

It’s getting harder and harder each day to persuade Šóta to stay his hand, so it becomes even more important to convince the Chief to mobilize the tribe.

While Dean and Mila manage to get Chatan to see the wisdom in the idea of moving the village north of the railroad, Tahatan isn’t so easily convinced that they should leave the river where their tribe has tilled the land, fed their families, built their traditions and their way of life. It’s understandable, but it leaves Dean with a worry in his gut that only grows with every new day.

Mornings are no longer peaceful for him, and while he knows Mila’s beginning to notice, it’s something he can’t help.

They dress for the day in silence after breakfast. He straps his gun to his right thigh and his knife on the other—a new precaution he’s started taking.

“Don’t go past the corral by yourself,” he warns Mila, when he sees her piling up a bundle of clothes for washing. She glances up at him with raised brows.

“I’m only going to the river,” she says.

“Take someone with you,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Like your mom, or a couple of your aunts. Hell, take Šóta with you. Or at least Takoda.”

She gives him a look that says she’s trying to be patient. “I will see if others have washing to do.”

Dean stops her with a hand on her arm.

“Or you could wait ‘til I get back,” he says. “I don’t mind going with you.”

“Dean,” she replies, her brows furrowing. “I may be with child, but I don’t need a caretaker. I’ll be fine.”

Again he stops her from moving past him. “Hey. Just listen to me, damn it!”

She gives him a sharp, surprised look. He stops himself short and realizes he’s losing his temper. He takes a breath, his face tight with frustration.

Mila frowns at him, trying to keep her own temper from rising to the surface. She knows he only wants to protect her, but nothing has even happened. Cavalry patrols haven’t gotten more than a couple of miles close to the village as the railroad construction continues. She’s begun to wonder if it’s necessary to move north after all.

Dean sighs, raising his hands in apology. He gently grasps her arms and looks down at her, meeting her gaze.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just…humor me, okay?”

Her brows furrow. “Humor? You want me to laugh at you?”

At that, he actually breaks into a chuckle. It eases some of his tension, but doesn’t completely expel his worry.

“What I mean is, I know how I’m being right now. I just want you to be safe,” he says, staring into her eyes. “Actually, I need it.”

Mila softens with a sigh. She reaches up and caresses his cheek, and she nods in agreement. She reaches up for his kiss, and he holds her tighter, more securely.

Okay, he thinks.

Dean leaves her to see to his responsibilities, caring for the horses, while Mila goes her own way to resume her daily chores. But when she asks her mother, Misae, and even Eyota if they want to go with her to the river, they say they’re too busy with other tasks to wash clothes. Her mother does give her an extra bundle to do for her though.

So even though it makes her uneasy to go against Dean’s wishes, she carries the bundles by herself to the river. Honestly, she prefers to do this alone sometimes, so she can be alone with her thoughts. Dean’s being overcautious.

Sure, it takes extra effort for her to get down on her knees at the riverbank, considering her protesting back, but she manages to do it. Because in her tribe, one does what they need to in order to live and eat.

She settles into her work after a few minutes, and bit by bit, she feels settled enough to relax. She even hums a little tune to herself. It’s part of a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was little, and now Mila sings it for her child, even before she gets to meet him…

Or her, she thinks, smiling to herself.

Her smile drops with a sharp inhale of breath.

She hears hoof falls on the earth. A horse treads nearby.

Slowly, she lowers the wet clothing back into the basin. She sees two reflections growing on the water: a horse and a man. The man gets down from his horse first.

“Hey there, miss—”

Mila swiftly turns and unsheathes the knife she keeps strapped to her ankle.

Dean finally takes the colt out for his first ride out in the open. He’s a little twitchy, but he responds well to Dean’s commands, enough that he chances leading the horse farther out of the village.

Maybe he’ll join Šóta and the rest of the men. They’re likely planting in the fields today, some of the women too, if they’re done at the river. Dean thinks of Mila then, and he hopes she’s finished her work there. He wonders if she got her mother to go with her, or maybe a couple of her friends. They’re new mothers, just a few years older than her.

I’ll just check on them, make sure everything’s on the up and up, Dean thinks. He guides the horse towards the river. He’s relaxed and focused on how the colt is behaving, until he hears a man’s voice on the wind. Dean looks up sharply and sees his wife there alone, crouched down on the riverbank.

A man stands just a few feet away and towers over her.

Dean’s gun is in his hand before he realizes it. With a small but purposeful kick, he urges the colt to a full gallop.

The man seems to be approaching her, taking meaningful steps forward. Mila says something sharply to him as she brandishes her knife and prepares to use it. He stops short.

“Hey!” Dean shouts.

He aims for the dead center of the man’s chest. His hair is long enough to brush his shoulders and obscure his face, but the closer Dean gets, a certain twinge runs up his spine and triggers his senses.

When the man looks up and raises his hands in shocked surrender, it’s like a physical blow to Dean’s chest. The man staring back at him is broad-shouldered, slightly taller than him in his dark brown duster coat, Stetson hat, and boots. He’s scruffier than usual, but unmistakable; he too stares at Dean like he can’t believe his own eyes.

“Dean,” he says, a hint breathless. His gaze drifts from Dean’s face to his pointed gun. He chuckles. “You gonna shoot me?”

Slowly, Dean lowers his weapon. He quickly moves to Mila first and slips an arm around her waist to help her stand with him. He makes sure she’s all right by the silent conversation that passes between them, through their eyes.

Then, he looks over at his brother and smiles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Hey, Sam,” he says. His gaze roams over the younger man’s face, sporting what he’d call half a beard. “What the hell’s that ferret on your face?”

Sam laughs. It ends with a too-bright smile that’s a little teary. Dean’s throat begins to close up on him a bit as well, but feeling Mila stir at his side, grasping his arm with a questioning look on her face, he gives her a reassuring look.

“Sweetheart, this is my brother. Sam,” he says.

Her eyes widen, but as she looks between the men, her face dawns with understanding. She smiles and releases him, only to guide him towards his brother with a gentle push.

Dean needs no further encouragement. His grin widens as he goes to meet Sam, who’s already coming straight for him. They meet in a warm, solid embrace, even if they’re both still on shaky ground on the inside. Sam’s grip is just as strong and desperate as Dean’s is reassuring, cupping the back of his neck.

“They told me you were dead, you bastard,” Sam says. His laughing words have a suspect shake in them.

“Yeah, my fault,” Dean says. He chuckles too, as if that can make this easier. “Why’d you come all the way out here?”

Sam pulls back after a moment. “Because I didn’t believe them.”

Dean’s smile falls. How the hell is he going to explain this? To Sam, to the Chief and the rest of the tribe…

He notices Sam looking past him, and finally Dean remembers himself. He keeps a hand on Sam’s shoulder and beckons Mila over to them. She’s hesitant, but she trusts him. She goes to him and leans into his side while he wraps his arm around her waist.

“Sammy, this is Mila…my wife,” he says.

Sam brows raise high, his mouth nearly falling open. Dean recognizes the question in his eyes.

You married…an Indian?

Dean just raises his brows.

To his credit, Sam gets ahold of himself and internalizes most of his reaction.

“Ah, right. Nice to meet you…ma’am,” he says, chuckling awkwardly as he extends the offer of his hand. She just looks at his hand curiously.

Sam clears his throat and takes his hand back.

“So, when did—uh, how…”

Dean smiles slightly. He can’t remember the last time he saw his brother this tongue tied; maybe since the time Jessica Moore kissed his cheek when he was nine after he gave her his last juice box.

“Come on,” Dean says, tightening a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got a lot to tell you before we get back.”

“Get back? Where are we going?” Sam asks.

Dean doesn’t answer him just yet, but he wishes he had brought Mato. He doesn’t trust putting Mila up on the colt, who’s still being broken in, but he doesn’t think she’d feel comfortable riding with Sam. So they walk back together to the village while leading their horses. Dean tells Sam the story of how he and Mila met—the good, the bad, and skimming over most of the ugly. Though he does admit to killing Dick Roman. And Dean admits that he made a choice to help her based on gut instinct alone.

“I knew what I was supposed to do, but…” Dean trails, glancing over at Mila. She’s been holding onto his arm as they make their way up a grassy hill, and now, their eyes meet. “I guess I’m just not the man they wanted me to be.”

She smiles a little at that, squeezing his hand.

Sam watches them together. He’s unable to stop the wonder from crossing his face, along with his smile. But his smile fades.

“You let us believe you were dead, Dean,” he says. Anger creeps into his voice, earning Dean’s sigh.

“It’s not like I could mail you a letter, Sam. It was…easier this way.”

“Easier?” Sam scoffs. “You think it was easy for me? Easy for Mom?”

Dean looks away. This chips open every part of his grief.

“We had a funeral for you,” Sam says. “Not that we had anything to bury.”

“Okay, I get it,” Dean says, rubbing at his eyes. “Maybe easier was the wrong word…safer is. For you, for me, for my wife, and for her people.”

Sam glances at Mila, who stares back at him with reservation in her eyes. She understands his anger, but she’s grateful to Dean. She knew what he’d done to protect her all this time. However, faced with part of the family he let go for her sake, she now feels guilty. So she doesn’t speak as she walks beside Dean.

Sam also stays quiet for a while. The gentle plodding of the horses and their boots on the grassy earth are the only sounds for a while, along with the wind in the distant trees of the forest.

“So, her tribe just…accepted you?” Sam asks.

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it hasn’t been that easy.”

“He has worked hard to earn the Chief’s respect, and the respect of everyone in our tribe,” Mila says. It’s the first thing she’s contributed to the conversation, but she feels that this is something that must be said.

Once again, she and Dean share a meaningful glance. He’s going to need all of that respect and goodwill if he’s going to bring Sam to meet the Chief.

Dean is actually glad Šóta is gone on a hunt with most of the other men. Tahatan, Chatan, and Hanska are enough of an audience when he brings Sam to the Chief’s tipi. He and Mila explain why his younger brother came to find him, and Sam fills in the rest of the blanks from his point of view.

Apparently, he and their mother, Mary, received a letter from the U.S. Cavalry that Dean had been killed in the line of duty, but when Sam reached out to military personnel through his law connections, no one could tell him specifically how Dean had died.

So Sam took a train out of Lawrence, Kansas and headed to Wyoming. He travelled the rest of the way on horseback to Fort Laramie. There he requested to speak to Colonel Sanderson, but the only one who would talk to him was Captain Benny Lafitte.

“Captain now, huh?” Dean remarks. He smiles to himself. “Good for him.”

“He’s the one who told me that you had fallen into the canyon…in pursuit,” Sam says, tactfully when he glances at Mila. “But I looked all over that canyon. I never found your body, or your horse. So I just kept looking.”

Dean sighs. He can’t fault Sam for not leaving it alone, because he knew if he’d been in Sam’s shoes, he would’ve been searching all over the state for his little brother too, even if it was just a body to bring back to his mother.

“What if they followed him here?” Chatan speaks up. It reminds Dean that it’s not just him and his brother here. In fact, his father-in-law and the Chief are wearing similar grim looks while they seize up the younger Winchester. To see if he’s a threat to their tribe.

Dean meets his brother with a firmer look. “What did you tell them, Sam?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. “They lied to me.”

“Yeah, but what did you say to Benny? To Sanderson. To anyone. Did you tell them you didn’t believe I was dead?” Dean asks.

“No, I didn’t even talk to Sanderson. He couldn’t be bothered with me,” Sam says. “All I told Captain Lafitte was that I was going to find your body.”

Dean breathes out in relief, but the feeling is short lived. Šóta and Otaktay bring in a wounded Takoda into the tent. He’s bleeding and groaning in pain, clutching at his chest with a hand covered in scarlet. Blood drips to the ground where they lay him before Hanska. Tahatan calls for Eyota, the healer. Mila and Dean go to help Takoda.

“What happened?” Tahatan demands to know.

Šóta can’t look his father in the eye at first. He opens his mouth to reply, but Takoda groans in agony. Mila pillows his head in her lap and brushes her half-cousin’s hair from his face. She feels someone’s gaze on her, and she finds that it’s Otaktay. He hasn’t spoken to her since his fight with Dean several weeks ago, and she’s certainly not gone out of her way to speak to him. But there’s no time for awkwardness right now. Takoda writhes in pain while Hanska examines his wound.

Dean recognizes what it is right away. Takoda has been shot twice—once in the shoulder, and once all too close to his heart. Dean looks up at Šóta with furrowed brows.

“These are bullets, not arrows. Where did it happen?” he asks.

“I warned you not to engage the White Men!” Tahatan reproaches angrily. “Now look at what has happened!”

Šóta looks like he wants to bow his head, but he holds stubbornly to his convictions.

“They’re starting to build closer to the village. We were just watching them at first, but we were spotted,” he says.

“You got too close!” Chatan growls.

Eyota arrives with more supplies to help stem the bleeding. Dean is no doctor, but he knows a gunshot wound better than the others do, even Eyota and Hanska. The problem is, they don’t have the tools to get at the second bullet in his chest, and he’s bleeding out fast.

“I gotta dig it out,” Dean tells Šóta in English. He translates to the others. Dean looks down at Takoda and tries to reassure him. “This is gonna hurt like hell, brother. Just hold on.”

Takoda nods. He literally holds onto Dean’s shoulder and pleads without speaking. Help me.

His jaw clenching tight, Dean tries his best to find the bullet with the thinnest utensil Eyota has for him. Takoda attempts to keep still. His writhing is too much though. Even Sam comes to help hold him down. He’s a lawyer, not a doctor, but he knows what Dean is doing is the man’s only chance.

It just takes too long. Dean eventually does find the fat piece of the bullet and pulls it out, but the fight has drained from Takoda along with his life blood. His sweaty chest stills in its movements. His grip on Dean’s shoulder and Šóta’s knee become lax, and then limp.

His dark eyes stare up at the ceiling of the tipi, now unseeing as the light drains out of them.

Takoda. His name meant Friend to Everyone. And so he was.

After Hanska and Eyota clean his body, they dress him in his best clothes and wrap him in robes. Then they bring his body to the highest point near the village, at the top of the grassy hill. Under the night stars, it’s the closest they can bring him to the heavens, where the Lakota believe his soul will ascend to the spirit world. They won’t bury him in the ground, but instead will give him an “air burial” for a warrior’s death.

When a member of the tribe dies, usually the night is spent telling stories, laughing at old jokes, and food passed around. But this isn’t a night for joke-telling. The whole tribe is gathered in mourning at the foot of the hill.

Tahatan sings a somber song for his second son, and his voice rises high over his second wife’s wails. She kneels beside her son and cuts her long hair jagged with a knife while she weeps. Mila grieves more quietly, but she tells Sam and Dean that hair cutting is part of the custom, and even cutting at their own bodies if their grief is that great.

Eventually, the tribe disperses for the night. Tahatan leads his wife away, but Šóta and Otaktay stay with his body. They will sit in a vigil with him all night.

Meanwhile, Mila and Dean take Sam to their tent. She finds bedding and furs for Sam to sleep on, and Dean helps her lay it all out.

“Thank you,” Sam says to her sincerely.

She offers him a small smile, then she prepares to sleep herself. Dean stops her by taking her hand. He leads her into a comforting embrace. She lets out a shaky breath as her fingers curl into his clothing.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t save him,” Dean confesses quietly.

Mila shakes her head. “It was not your fault.”

In her mind, she can’t help but put that blame on Šóta. It hurts to have that anger in her heart, but it’s there, no matter how hard she tries to let go of it. She clings harder to Dean, pressing her face into his chest while her body shakes with silent sobs. He caresses her hair, kisses the top of her head, and then her cheek.

After a little while, she pulls away from him and rests a grateful hand over his heart, before she goes to bed. Dean helps her settle down on the ground and pulls the fur blanket over her form. He squeezes her shoulder one more time before he joins Sam on the other side of the room.

All the while, his younger brother has been watching him, admiring the way he’s always been a protector, but also a man who takes care of the people around him. Sam remembers it well, when they were kids.

Dean gives him some bison jerky to snack on, and for a few minutes they eat in silence while a small fire burns in the coals piled in front of them.

“You’re all in danger here, Dean,” Sam says, breaking the silence. “It’s only a matter of time before the Army finds this place.”

Dean nods slowly. “I’ve been trying to convince the Chief to move the tribe up north. Other Sioux tribes have been able to settle there, but more and more, they’re being forced out of their land.”

Sam considers that with a slow nod. A grim realization dawns in his eyes.

“It’s not fair,” he eventually agrees. He falls into his thoughts for a moment, trying to decide how to say what he wants to. “You should come home, Dean. Come back with me.”

Dean sighs. He knew this was coming. It might as well be now. He glances over at Mila, who finally seems like she’s sleeping peacefully. He rests an elbow above his knee and looks back at his brother.

“You’re asking me to leave my wife?” he asks. “She’s pregnant, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widen. That news probably shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did, but he’s a little hurt that Dean would think he’d suggest leaving her.

“No, Dean, of course not,” he says. His frown fades, turning into a smile. “Congratulations.”

Dean lightens, his lips curving slightly into a smile as well. He nods in thanks.

Sam sighs. “Look…ask her to come with you. With us. You can live out with Mom on the farm and raise your kids there.”

“You forget that I’m supposed to be dead? Hell, for God’s sake, you already had my funeral to prove it.” Dean rubs tiredly at his face. “Lawrence is a small town, and Mom has, what, fifteen, twenty people working that farm? Word’s gonna get out, one way or another. If the Army hears it, I’ll be court martialed for desertion, not to mention all the rest of it.”

Sam opens his mouth to argue back with that earnest, determined look in his eyes. Dean expects nothing less. It’s what makes his brother a good lawyer, but Dean raises up a hand against whatever he’s going to say. Again, he glances back at Mila.

“Sam…this is what she knows. These are her people, her family,” he says. After a hesitant pause, he adds, “They’ve become my family too.”

Sam’s jaw clenches. He glances down at the ground between his feet, before he’s able to meet Dean’s eyes again. There’s hurt and anger in his own.

“And me?” he asks. “What, I’m not your family anymore?”

He doesn’t know just how deeply that hurts Dean. He shakes his head, drops his jerky into the dirt. He reaches out and grasps Sam’s shoulder.

“Sammy,” Dean says. For a moment, he can’t speak. His throat constricts, and no matter how tight he presses his lips together, he can’t stop the slight tremble in them. “You don’t know how hard it’s been…to convince myself that I wasn’t ever gonna see you again. But I’m happy. I’m so fucking happy that you found me.”

Dean tries and fails to blink past the way his eyes burn with tears. Sam’s eyes are getting just as red and shiny. He lays a heavy hand on Dean’s knee, and they sit like that for a while in silence, until the embers on the coals dim from red to black.

Šóta hasn’t slept. It’s evident in his red-rimmed eyes and unkempt, dirty clothes, but he’s still adamant about hitting back against the railroad construction.

“Father, they stand at our doorstep!” he argues to the Chief. “They take our horses, run off our wild game with their machines, cut down the forest, and now they build iron tracks through our lands. You went to war against the Crow for less!”

Tahatan seems heavy in his thoughts as he listens. The words of his eldest son, and from his first wife, have weight—not just with him, but with the entire tribe as they sit together in the place where they typically have group feasts. Otaktay stands behind Šóta in support.

Dean is reluctant to single himself out, but after sharing a look with Mila, he stands.

“Chief, what happened yesterday was more than just a tragedy or a crime. It’s a warning,” he says. “We need to leave, before the Army finds this village.”

“You suggest we run like cowards,” Otaktay says. His tone is icy and angry.

Dean shakes his head. “I’m not doubting your courage or your skill. I’m not doubting any warrior here. But this ain’t a fair fight.”

He shifts his gaze, addressing Tahatan directly.

“We’re out-manned and out-gunned, literally. Arrows and knives against bullets—pistols and rifles,” Dean says. “They’ll tear through this village until there’s no one and nothing left. We have to go north. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”

Chatan sides with Dean, and Mila stands with him too.

Tahatan thinks hard. After a long, silent moment, he stands from his chair of whicker and wood.

“We will pack the caravans today and move out tonight,” he says.

Then he commands Šóta and Dean to start preparing the horses. Šóta shoots Dean a hard, angry look, but Mila steps in and pushes at her cousin’s arm.

“Don’t look at him,” she warns tersely in their language. “This is the cost of what you have done.”

Šóta is affronted by her words, but he doesn’t answer her. He just turns away with a sharp pivot on his heel. Otaktay glances back at Mila and Dean impassively, but he follows after Šóta, his friend and his leader.

Dean understands what she said; he’s spent enough time here that he’s able to follow every word. He gives her a look that’s mostly resigned, but he holds her to his side in comfort. He knows this isn’t easy for her either.

“I will start packing,” she says.

Dean nods. “I’ll come help you in a bit.”

He watches her leave his side to make her way back to their tent. Sam approaches him, and together they walk to the horse pen, where his horse is grazing with the others under the great sycamore tree that shields them.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Dean says. “You should head home.”

“What if something happens to you on the road?” Sam says.

Dean smiles ruefully. “I could say the same thing to you…but it looks like you don’t need me to protect you anymore.”

“Yeah well, doesn’t mean I won’t always need my brother.”

They share a smile, followed by a strong embrace. Dean thumps his back.

“Take care of yourself, Sammy,” he says, a coarse whisper.

Sam chuckles weakly. “You’ve got a harder road than I do.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s gonna have to face Mom.”

Dean says it as something of a joke, but all it does is sober both of them. Sam pulls away reluctantly.

“I’m not going to get to meet my niece or nephew,” he says.

“I’m sorry about that too,” Dean says, meeting his brother’s glassy eyes. “I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

Sam jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Another beat passes between them. He clears his throat.

“I’ll tell Mom…”

“Take care of her,” Dean says.

Sam nods his agreement. Dean finally releases his brother’s shoulder, and there below the sycamore tree, the brothers part ways. Sam straps up his provisions and climbs up on his horse. Dean opens the pen for him, long enough for Sam to ride through.

He stops at the foot of the hill and looks over his shoulder at Dean, who gives him one more lax salute. Sam smiles, nodding back at him. Then he keeps riding.

Dean watches him cross the grassy plain until it becomes too hard to look straight into the afternoon sun. Distantly he hears Šóta’s voice behind him, giving out orders to other men. Dean looks away from the sun.

He has work to do.

He locks up the rest of his grief to begin with the horses, not knowing that Otaktay watches him.

Dean doesn’t want to load up Baby with too much cargo. She’s still early in her pregnancy, and he could even ride her if he wanted to, but he can’t help but want to protect her more. It’s going to take days to move the tribe across the state, maybe longer. So instead, she can help pull one of the caravans with the colt and a couple of the other horses.

He saddles up Mato to ride. Hopefully he actually cooperates with Dean this time.

Mato begins to stamp nervously though, like he senses something coming. Dean perks up and notices the way the horse’s ears flick back and forth. Baby makes an anxious sound as well. Dean turns his head in the direction of the village with furrowed brows.

Šóta draws near to find his horse, who’s just as unsettled as the rest of them.

“The horses are spooked,” he says.

“Something’s wrong,” Dean nods in agreement. His gut tells him so, while a spark of unease licks up his spine.

And then he hears it. A warning blow of a buffalo horn on the air, followed by screaming, shouting, and gunfire in the village down below. His eyes widen.

Mila.

AN: 😬 Sorry about the cliffhanger, but we're almost to the end! What did you think of Sam's big entrance into the story? 😉

Coming up, the grand finale...

Next Time:

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

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sevenboarproductions · 2 days ago

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[Rabicha] Drama Collection 2 Winter: Nanase Riku

Nanase Riku:

Kujou Tenn:

Nanase Riku:

Nanase Riku: It’s Tenn-nii!! I’m happy you replied so fast

Kujou Tenn: Good evening. It’s because I had just opened rabbit chat.

Nanase Riku: I see! Maybe you were just about to send me a rabbit chat

Nanase Riku: Just kidding, I just thought it would be nice if that was the case!

Kujou Tenn: You’re right.

Nanase Riku: what

Kujou Tenn: I was just thinking of texting you, Riku. I wanted to tell you to not get cold, since a lot of the filming was outside today

Nanase Riku: Tenn-nii～～～～～～～～～～～～

Nanase Riku: I took a bath as soon as I got home, so I’ll be fine! What about Tenn-nii? Are you wearing warm clothes?

Kujou Tenn: I am. I’m wearing the matching ghost hoodies Momo-san gave all of us actors today.

Nanase Riku: Aaah~! It’s so cute with the patch of the ghost that shows up in the drama

I might put it on, too, now

To match with Tenn-nii

Kujou Tenn: We’ll have to thank Momo-san for those

Nanase Riku: Yeah! I’ll send him a rabbit chat to thank him again

Nanase Riku: I just thought of a nice idea Will you listen to it, Tenn-nii?

Kujou Tenn: Alright. What is it?

Nanase Riku: When we wrap up filming, why don't we take a commemorative photo wearing the hoodies? We’ll tell Sougo-san and Momo-san to bring theirs, too!

Nanase Riku: Since we got to perform together, I wanna take a photo with everyone

Kujou Tenn: It might be good promotion for the drama as well. I’ll be sure to bring mine with me.

Nanase Riku: Yayーー！ Can we take a picture with just the two of us, too,,,? I won’t post it on social media!

Kujou Tenn: Do you want to take one?

Nanase Riku: Yeah….

Nanase Riku:

Kujou Tenn: Sure. I’d also like that.

Nanase Riku:

Kujou Tenn: But please don't get too excited and call me "Tenn-nii" on set again.

Nanase Riku: I managed to just barely hold back today!!

Kujou Tenn: You didn’t. You already said as much as “Tenn-ni—”.

Nanase Riku: Eh~! Wasn’t it more like “Tenn-ni”?

Kujou Tenn: That’s not that much of a difference, is it?

Nanase Riku: But I was fine because Tenn-nii covered me

Kujou Tenn: But I won’t be able to do that every time

Nanase Riku: I think Tenn-nii could do it! Let’s try to recreate that one time

Nanase Riku: (door opening) Me: “I’m done changing!”

Kujou Tenn: I guess we’re doing this now…

Kujou Tenn: (clack)

“I’m done, too”

Nanase Riku: Me: “Wow! Your ghost costume suits you so well today too! That’s just like Tenn-ni”

Kujou Tenn: “It feels like I’m in heaven, being able to appear in a drama that provides such wonderful costumes”*

Nanase Riku: Amazing! You even managed to recreate it perfectly, Tenn-nii! With this, I’ll be fine

Kujou Tenn: Somehow I’m also beginning to think it’ll be fine.

Nanase Riku:

Kujou Tenn: Seriously. We were shooting such a sad scene with you today, Riku, but rabbit-chatting with you like this, it feels weird.

Nanase Riku: Was my acting good!? I wanted to ask Tenn-nii about it

Kujou Tenn: It was. Especially the scene where the bellboy you play prays to the wish granting tree

Nanase Riku: The one where the bellboy went to pray because ghost Tenn-nii’s body kept getting harder to see each day, and he worried he’d disappear…

Kujou Tenn: Yes.

The scene where he begs the tree with a mix of sadness, confusion and impatience, saying “Please don’t take my friend away”. It captivated everyone on set.

Nanase Riku: When the ghost noticed he was going to disappear, he confessed to the bellboy, “You were the first friend I ever had. Maybe that is why l feel so reluctant to let go of you.”

Nanase Riku: There might be many things you only truly notice after you lose them, but I don’t want to feel that way again. I want to treasure everything, without suddenly losing any of it. I feel like that’s why I gave it my all in the scene where I go to pray.

Kujou Tenn: We got to see Riku give his all, eh.

Nanase Riku: That’s right. Because I was able to act with Tenn-nii!

Nanase Riku: I can’t forget Tenn-nii’s face. When you opened up about your feelings to me, you looked lonely, yet so happy to have discovered we care for each other. I was moved by how one expression could convey so many emotions.

Kujou Tenn: Even though the ghost had always been lonely and playing pranks on humans, when he made a friend for the first time, his lingering attachment to the world faded and he started to disappear. But he didn’t want to leave his friend, either.

Kujou Tenn: It was a difficult scene, but I’m glad to hear that from you, Riku.

Nanase Riku: I’m happy~. I like talking about acting with Tenn-nii

Kujou Tenn: Me too.

Nanase Riku: If there really was a tree that could grant wishes, what would you wish for, Tenn-nii?

Kujou Tenn: I wonder. I might not wish for anything Because I want to make the important things come true by myself

Nanase Riku: I see… That sounds like like Tenn-nii

I wanna hear Tenn-nii’s wish though

Kujou Tenn: Then, one thing

Nanase Riku: What is it!?

Kujou Tenn: I wish for Riku to accept my invitation.

Nanase Riku: I’d accept any invitation from Tenn-nii though!?!?!?!?

Kujou Tenn: I’m glad. There’s a donuts shop that recently opened near me, so I’d like to go with you, Riku

Kujou Tenn: What’s your wish, Riku?

Nanase Riku: I wish for Tenn-nii’s wish to come true!!!

Nanase Riku: My next day off is next Saturday… What about you, Tenn-nii? If it’s alright with you, we could go on that day…

Kujou Tenn: What a coincidence. I’m off that day, too. My wish came true right away, huh

Nanase Riku: Yay!!!! The tree I just saw growing at the dorm must be granting wishes too!!! I’ll go say thank you!!!!!

Kujou Tenn: That made me laugh. Make sure you don’t get cold, alright

Nanase Riku:

TL note courtesy of Haruka-kun:

* TL note: It's a play on words. As you probably know, the kanji for Tenn’s name (天 ) means heaven, which is why, when Riku almost calls him Tenn-nii, Tenn covers it up by supposedly “finishing” Riku’s sentence with a saying that involves the word heaven. Riku’s “-ni” becomes the Japanese grammatical particle “ni” in that case, so it covers the tracks of Riku’s mishap almost perfectly.

Hello, it's Mod Riku! Haruka-kun and I never worked on the same google doc at the same time, but I guess there's exceptions to everything when you're enthusiastic. Don't expect rabichas to be regular occurrence, and have a great day!!

Special thanks to Iori-P for alerting me to this chat!

haruka-kun didn't like the tenn-nii pun but i did btw

#idolish7 #idolish7 translations #idolish7 translation #i7 translation #kujou tenn #kujo tenn #nanase riku #tenn kujo

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 1 day ago

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"You’ve Got This, Love"

Pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of stress, mild language, lots of fluff and comfort.

Author’s Note: Life can be stressful, but that’s okay—our lovelies are here to remind us that we’re not in this alone. Hope this story brings you some comfort! 💜

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The faint sound of the front door unlocking pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your hands rested on your laptop keyboard, frozen in place, while papers and open books formed a chaotic circle around you. The air in your shared apartment felt stifling, a physical manifestation of the pressure weighing on your chest.

“Love?” Kyle’s voice called gently, the familiar warmth of it immediately soothing some of your frayed nerves. His boots landed softly on the mat by the door, and his duffle bag was set aside with a faint thud.

You didn’t respond right away, too caught up in the swirl of worries that had been your constant companion lately. Instead, you rested your head in your hands, exhaling shakily.

Kyle appeared in the doorway of the small living room-turned-office, his dark eyes scanning the scene: the cluttered desk, the untouched tea gone cold, and you, slumped over with stress practically radiating off of you. Without a word, he crossed the room and knelt beside your chair.

"Hey," he murmured softly, one hand coming to rest on your knee while the other gently nudged your hands away from your face. "What’s going on, sweetheart?"

You looked at him, and the genuine concern in his expression made your throat tighten. “It’s everything,” you whispered. “Getting back into college, work deadlines, just… life. It feels like no matter how much I do, I’m always behind. And I don’t know how to keep up.”

His brows drew together in a mixture of sympathy and determination. “You’ve been carrying all this on your own, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low but steady. When you didn’t answer, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing soothingly across your skin. “Love, you’ve got to let me in. You don’t have to do all of this by yourself.”

“I don’t want to burden you, Kyle,” you said, voice trembling. “You’ve got enough on your plate without me adding more.”

“Burden me?” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. His gaze softened as he leaned closer. “You’re never a burden, sweetheart. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to carry this stuff together. That’s what love is about.”

Your lips quivered, and you tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “I just… I feel like I’m failing. Like I can’t get anything right.”

“Hey now,” Kyle said firmly but lovingly, tilting your chin so you couldn’t look away. “Listen to me. You are *not* failing. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough. You’re smart, hardworking, and so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I see you, love. I see how hard you’re trying, even when you don’t think it’s enough. And I’m so damn proud of you.”

A tear slipped free, and he caught it with the pad of his thumb. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. He cradled you against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down your back in slow, comforting strokes. “You’ve been so busy worrying about everything, you’ve forgotten to give yourself a break.”

Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt as you let out a shaky breath. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else had all day. “I don’t even know where to start, Kyle. It’s all just too much.”

“Well, for starters,” he said, his lips brushing your temple, “you’re going to close that laptop and step away from the desk. No arguments.”

“But—”

“Nope.” He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his grin soft but unyielding. “You can’t take care of everything if you’re running yourself into the ground. So, we’re hitting pause. I’ll make us a fresh cuppa, and we’ll sit on the couch and just… be. No work, no school talk, nothing stressful. Just you and me.”

You hesitated, but the warmth in his eyes and the gentle squeeze of his hands over yours made it impossible to argue. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Atta girl,” he said, kissing your forehead before standing and offering you his hand.

You took it, and he led you to the couch, grabbing a cozy throw blanket along the way. Once you were settled, he tucked the blanket around your legs, making sure you were comfortable before heading to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he returned with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. Setting them on the coffee table, he joined you on the couch, pulling you into his side. His arm wrapped securely around you as you curled into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

“There,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “That’s better. Now, let’s talk about something good. What’s been making you happy lately? Anything at all.”

You thought for a moment, the tension in your chest beginning to ease. “I saw this video earlier of a dog trying to carry a stick that was way too big for him. He kept getting stuck between trees but refused to let go. It was ridiculous.”

Kyle chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “See? That’s the kind of stubborn energy I like. You could take a page out of that dog’s book—don’t give up, no matter how hard it gets.”

You rolled your eyes with a small laugh. “Are you seriously comparing me to a dog right now?”

“Only the best kind,” he teased, his grin widening. “The determined, unstoppable kind.”

His playful tone and unwavering support made you smile, and for the first time in days, the overwhelming weight on your shoulders didn’t feel quite so heavy.

As you sat there, wrapped up in his warmth and love, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you really could handle it all. Not alone, but together.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

#x reader #141 x reader #tf 141 #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #cod 141 #mw2 141 #task force 141 fanfic #141 #tf 141 x you #kyle gaz x you #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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brookiemonsterfics · 1 day ago

Text

Summary: Aubrey takes you out to eat because she’s been super busy due to work but while your out a waiter flirts with Aubrey causing you to have an attitude the rest of the night pushing you guys to leave early.

warnings: just 18+, you guys will find out.

authors note: don’t start the song until they get home🙏🏽‼️ and there’s a lot of time skips because i never cared.

AUBS: hey baby, i wanted to take you out because i’ve missed you these past weeks. So get dressed but wear that dark red set i got you so we can match.. i love you be there in 40.

PRETTY GIRL: okay baby, i can’t wait to see you!!

after aubrey sent me that text i immediately got up from me and Aubreys bed and walked to our shared walk in closet and pulled out the dark red matching flowy skirt set with an off the shoulder tank top that shows a little bit of my midriff just like aubs wanted with gold heels and gold bangles to match, i walked back to the bedroom and set the outfit down and walk to our shared bathroom and started playing ‘sex on the beach’ by pnd.

TIME SKIP 40 MINUTES LATER

As i was combing my hair i heard the door unlock so i walk out of our room just to see Aubrey with a bouquet of dark red roses in her hand, “hey mama, you look so beautiful” i smiled and said “thank you pretty” and walk over while my gold heels clank on our hardwood floors. As i walked over she puts the roses on our island counter and as she reaches out for a hug i put my arms behind her neck and while i’m doing that she hears your bangles and rests her head on my shoulder and gets a whiff of my lost cherry perfume by tom ford and lets out a slight moan, i let go and finally get a good look at her and her black louis vuitton black suit on (basically Paige’s draft fit) with her curly hair and start to look her up and down, “you like what you see mama?” i giggle and say “girl come on before we miss our reservation” and walk past her and grab my gold clutch and wait by the door.

AT THE RESTAURANT

Aubrey opens the door to the restaurant, “thank you baby.” i say and walk in and immediately get hit with the smell of cooking steak and the sound of people talking and plates clanking against the table. Aubrey walks past me and grabs my hand and brings me over to the hostess.

“Hi, we have a reservation for 2 at 10:00 under the name of Aubrey Griffen.”

just the sound of her voice made me crazy inside. “Okay, follow me to your table!” Aubrey grabs my hand as we follow the hostess to our table while i was following i started to smell her cologne moving through the air making me feral and more needy for her.

“Here you go guys, and your waiter will be right with you!” she says and turns around to walk away. “alright baby, how do you feel about this restaurant?” i look at her and say “ this is really pretty thank you so much!” i grab her hand and look at her and smile slightly “i really do appreciate you for taking the time out of your busy schedule for me” she chuckles and starts to open her mouth to say something until she got interrupted by a talking snake with blonde hair.

“Hey you guys! i’m Amber and i’ll be taking care of you tonight, is there anything i can get you started with..starting with you pretty?” i look at her and back and aubrey just to see her ass smiling and looking at the menu. She lifted her head up from the menu and looked at the waitress and said “can i get a margarita please?” the waitress wrote it down and then looked at me with the most basic look in her eyes “and for you?” i look at her and roll my eyes slightly “i’ll take a margarita also.” she nods and walks away.

“y/n.. why were you so rude to her?”

i look at Aubrey with with a dumbfounded look on my face “Aubrey..she literally skipped over me and called you pretty, like whats not ringing a bell to you?” she looks at me and slightly rolls her eyes

“babe, i’m pretty sure she didn’t mean it like that at all!” i let out a deep sigh “okay Aubrey whatever you want to think.”

I look over to my left and i see Amber with only one margarita in her hand walking over with a smile looking at Aubrey.. “here you go!” i look at Amber and say “where’s mine?” she sighs and looks at me “i forgot, i’ll be back.” while she walks away i look at Aubrey and say “does that prove my point?” she looks at her drink then at me and says “i don’t think she meant it that way.” and starts to drink her margarita…i gasp and mutter under my breath “omg..”

Amber walks back finally with a margarita in her hand “okay now that you have your drink.. what do guys want to eat.” she looks at Aubrey and Aubrey says “i’ll have the steak and potatoes please.” she nods and writes her order down in her notepad, she turns her head to me rolls her eyes and asks “what would you like?” i gasp and say “i would like for you to stop rolling your damn eyes at me” she rolls her eyes again and says “please just tell me your order instead of having a bitch fit” i look at Aubrey then exhale “i’ll have the roast and mash potatoes with truffle fries” she writes my order down and walks away. “aubs please, you can’t tell me you didn’t fucking notice that!”

30 MINUTES LATER

Amber comes back minutes later with our food and refills of our drinks “okay..here is your food and refills of your drinks.” she hands aubrey her food first then sets my plate down and as she grabs my drink she spills it on my skirt. “wtf!!” i exclaim loudly in the restaurant amber smirks lightly and says “I’m so sorry, i truly didn’t mean to” i scoff and say “ you know that wasn’t a fucking accident”. “Can you go get us some to-go boxes” Aubrey says to amber, she turns around and walks away.

“Aubrey, that fucking bitch did that on purpose” she hands me napkins and looks at me “i know baby i’m sorry i didn’t notice earlier.” amber walks back with the check and 2 to-go boxes. Aubrey puts her card down and hands it to amber so she can pay for our food. “here’s your card and your to-go bag.” aubrey puts our food in the boxes and puts them in the bag and gets up to grab my hand so we can leave.

IN THE CAR

The car ride home was silent but you could feel the tension in the air, usually Aubrey has her hand on my thigh with music playing or us talking and forgetting about the music playing but tonight everything was different.. i break the silence first “Aubrey so your just gonna sit there and act like you didn’t see that bitch flirting with you?” she sighed and says “i’m sorry baby i thought she just being friendly or nice to get a tip or something” i sit upright in my seat and look over to her “are you serious she called you pretty when she seen me sitting there?, even if she was trying to get a tip that’s not the way to get it!”

As we pulled into our parking structure i opened my door and got out feeling irritated and appalled at the fact that Aubrey would act like that at the restaurant. when we got in the elevator up to our apartment the air was thick and silent due to the fact that we hadn’t said a word to each other since the car, the elevator doors opened and i walked to our front door, opening the door waiting for Aubrey so she can come inside, after she walks in i close the door and lock it while hearing her set the to-go bag on our island i take my heels off and walk into our room and walk to our shared closet to take my jewelry off.

i hear aubrey walk to our room and walk into our closet.. “hey baby..” i turn to look at her and see that her face is desperate.. “hey..” i say and walk past her to our bathroom she follows behind me and grabs my arm and pulls me closer to her. when i have my heels off i’m 5’7 but when they’re on i’m 5’9 so i’m still severely shorter than her so just seeing her face and how desperate she looks makes me so weak for her.

“i’m sorry baby,i truly am and i feel so stupid for not knowing that she was flirting with me and being rude to you.”

“it’s okay, but i’m about to shower and lay down.” i say and turn around to walk to our bathroom.

TIME SKIP

after i got out the shower i got in the bed and turned on the tv, after a while Aubrey walked out of the bathroom with her robe on and got dressed and walked to our bed and sat next to me and put her arm around me and laid against the headboard “mama are you still mad at me?” i look at her and snicker “i don’t know..” she laughs and looks at me “can i make it up to you?” i fake think about it and shrug “i don’t know can you?” she grabs me and lays me in between her thighs resting my back on her stomach and my head on her shoulder.

“i think i can” she says with a cocky tone and trails her hand down my stomach into my underwear immediately feeling how wet i was for her causing me to let out a whimper and throw my head back slightly “you’re so wet for me mama” she said softly and started to rub her finger up and down my slit collecting my slick before finally pushing her finger in causing a breathy moan out of my mouth and my back to raise up “uh uh baby, take it” aubrey says while pushing her free hand on my stomach to make me fall back against her.

i grab her wrist signaling for her to slow down “p-please baby, slow down” she moves my hand and puts it to the side of me “no, i told you i would make it up to you so take it.” and just because i asked her to slow down she added another finger making me let out a whimper “please aubrey, i’m close” she chuckled “oh yeah? you coming baby” and brought her free hand up to my breast and started rubbing it and gently rubbing my nipple, her doing that made me pull her hair slightly, receiving a groan from her.

aubrey decides to speed up her fingers causing my head to fall back into the crook of her neck while letting out a soft moan near her ear. aubrey slightly laughed and said “you sound so pretty mama” and brought her free hand to my clit rubbing it while speeding her fingers up hitting my g-spot causing me to squeeze my thighs together, aubrey removes her hand off of my clit to re-spread my legs. “keep these open for me baby.” i wanted to respond but i could only respond with a moan due to me about to cum on her fingers.

“baby..i’m coming” she nods “i know pretty, i know” shushing me, finally i finish on her fingers

she removes her fingers and brings them up to my mouth “open” she orders. i start sucking and moaning at the taste of my release, she glares at me with an intense look in her eyes and says “you look so good baby.” and removes her fingers from my mouth.

she puts both of her hands on my stomach rubbing it softly “are you still mad at me?” i giggle and say “no, but only because of your fingers nothing else.” she laughs and nods softly “that’s fair, i love you mama” i sigh and look at her hands rubbing my stomach “i love you too pretty.”

#Spotify #aubrey griffin #smut #fluff #kk arnold #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #uconn huskies #ayanna patterson #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #wbb #uconn women’s basketball

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