#me writing this: *in tears* they are friends....
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funlovingfuzzball · 22 hours ago
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Bullet point time since I cannot be bothered to write cohesive paragraphs rn:
We were at a friend’s house for her birthday
We were like 9 at most
She had us hanging out on her trampoline
I didn’t know most of the others so I was alone on the side
I’m just bouncing by myself, it’s fine and I’m used to it
Suddenly my ankle feels weird
I look down and there’s this giant tear on my ankle
I am bleeding
I am bleeding a *lot*
Well fuck
Now what
Wait, friend’s mom is an occupational therapist
I bet she has gauze
Tries to walk off trampoline
Wait now I’m bleeding on the trampoline
Well fuck
Crawls off the trampoline
Walks into house
At least ten moms staring at me
“HisosorrytobotheryoubutcouldIbyanychancehaveabandaid?”
“Huh?”
“So sorry to bother you, but could I by any chance have a bandaid?”
Friend’s mom looks at me
Sees my ankle
“Oh my god”
Wraps me in so so much gauze and bans me from the trampoline
To this day I don’t have any clue what happened there. It was very strange. Truly, the first thing we noticed was that it felt like our ankle was wet, and then we discovered just how much blood was coming out, but we had no pain and we hadn’t even landed funny. Not a single clue what caused that one
- Reina
Reblog and put in the tags what’s the stupidest injury you’ve ever had
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mattybsgroupie · 2 days ago
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better ♡ matt sturniolo
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— CONTENTS: established relationship; fighting; cursing; slight angst; brief mention of smoking; slightly toxic; praising; fingering (f receiving); p in v; creampie; soft dom!matt
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— NOTES: fuck i got horny writing this and yes im feeling submissive and breedable tn so shhhh! i think we all need a break from all the kink shit on this blog right? been wanting to write a more vanilla, sweet, slow sex and anon requested make up sex so! not proofread, i apologize for any mistakes ♡ hope you enjoy it, let me know ur thoughts!
— REQUESTED BY: anon
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you stomped through the front door, taking a deep breath as the cold breeze brushed across your cheeks. you leaned against a random car parked nearby, left hand frantically searching for a pack of cigarettes into your pockets. folding your palm, you lighted the object in between your fingers, inhaling the warm smoke before releasing through your nose in a tired sigh. 
the sound of wood creaking slowly took over the silent street. you didn’t have to turn around to know how it was — matt’s careful footsteps were always recognizable. he stopped in front of you, crossing his arms. “what the fuck is up with you today?” matt raised his voice, watching as you inhaled once more. 
“what the fuck is up with you matt? my god, get a fucking grip” you mumbled, looking away from him. your free hand went to the top of your head, gently pulling your own hair, trying to relieve your headache somehow. matt clicked his tongue before huffing. he was getting angry and you could tell by the slight change in his tone, his voice getting raspier and louder.
“weren’t you busy with your friends? kissing chris and shit?” he hissed, the sudden accusation making you gasp. you threw your cigarette away, twisting your foot against it and walking towards matt’s direction. “fuck you!” you pointed your index and him, pushing your own finger against his chest. 
as you spilled your words, tears started to form in the corners of your eyes. you and matt had been bickering for a while, especially because none of you had time to be alone. you both needed and missed each other deeply, but frustrations took over and the words would come out too rough. 
“no, fuck you! what the fuck do you want from me?!” matt pointed back at you with his tattoed arm. you sighed in annoyance, a knot forming on the back of your throat. “leave me alone.” you managed to speak, leaning your body against the car. you raised your palm towards your face in a failed attempt to stop your tears from falling down. 
matt chuckled, clicking his tongue once again. “great, now you’re gonna fucking cry” he rolled his eyes and scratched his beard. deep down, you wished matt would stop talking. you wanted him to hug you, to tell you everything was gonna be alright — but he kept going. “why don’t you fucking ask chris to come here calm you down, huh? does he know how to do that? does he even know the things you go through? cause i was there, every single time. every fucking breakdown you had i was there to take care of you.” each word that came out of matt’s mouth felt like a punch in your stomach, and you could no longer pretend you didn’t care, starting to sob. 
“babe” he called, voice in a lower tone, trying to ease his own feelings. “stop. look at me, please”. you could feel the warmth of his body growing closer to you, his digits gently touching your wrist and removing your hand from your face. matt caressed your cheek with your thumb, wiping away your tears.
“let’s just forget this, yeah? let’s go back inside and we can talk later or tomorrow if you feel like it. can we do that?” he asked, opening his arms for a hug, allowing you to hide on his chest. you snuggled closer, sniffing against his shirt. “i don’t wanna go back” 
matt chuckled lightly, his large hand scratching your back in circular motions as he placed a kiss on the top of your hair. “‘m sorry. i always fuck things up with you, even when i don’t mean to” he said, tightening the hug as you tried to pull away, playfully punching his chest. his hug immediately washed your anxiety away, and you felt safe again. matt offered you his hand, interlocking your fingers and leading the way back inside the house. 
matt locked the bedroom door and placed his hands on your waist, pressing your back against the wall. your smudged make-up caused matt to smirk, and he leaned in to kiss the mascara smeared across your cheek. he continued to shower your face with smooches, lingering over your jaw and releasing a heavy sigh before slowly pressing his lips against your sweet spot. he proceeded to kiss your neck, nibbling on your skin and pushing his own hips against yours.
your fingers went to his brown strands, tugging at his scalp, making matt groan. “nhng, i miss you so much” he muffled, letting go of you and sitting on the edge of the mattress, patting his own thigh, a silent plead for you to join him.
you sat on matt’s lap as he held you by the waist. you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, happy to finally have some time alone with your boyfriend “been so long hm?” he said and you nodded, feeling his hands travel across your back all the way down to your ass. matt stopped there, gently palming your flesh and whispering “i’m sorry, princess. i’ve been so bad to you right?”.
you pouted, looking at him with puppy eyes. “i know, i know” matt repeated, his sneaky fingers reaching the hem of your shirt. “let me make it up to you hm? my beautiful, beautiful girl”, he said as he started to remove your clothes. you had nothing underneath your tee, letting your breasts hang loose as soon as matt removed the piece.
matt placed his palms on your chest, massaging your boobs and smirking before latching his lips around your nipple, his tongue quickly flickering against your hardened nub. goosebumps took over your skin — matt and you hadn’t been intimate in a while, every touch felt like the first one.
“matt” you moaned when he squeezed one of your tits a bit too hard. you could feel matt’s hardened cock pressing against your covered cunt, your panties completely drenched. “matty, please” you whimpered, begging for some attention where you needed the most.
“hm?” his blue orbs looked up at you, waiting for you to continue. “use your big girl words yeah? what do you want, princess?” you pouted once more at his request. you hated speaking up, especially when matt knew exactly what you wanted.
“it’s… it’s starting to hurt” you said, glancing at where your parts met. you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip as you watched matt’s bulge gradually moving underneath you. he was just as needy. “please, i need your cock” you spoke, a pink tone taking over your cheeks.
“oh yeah? that pretty pussy misses my cock?” he repeated, inflating his own ego. you nodded and matt scratched his beard before hugging you by the waist and flipping your body, laying your back against the mattress. “haven’t been inside you in so long” he continued, holding his weight with his elbows, positioning himself in between your thighs.
“think it’s gonna fit?” you moaned at the question, receiving a smirk from matt. he removed his own shirt and proceeded to take your shorts, pulling it down along with your panties, revealing your bare pussy. “yeah, i think she needs to be stretched out first right?”
“mhm, please” you whined desperately, adjusting yourself as matt finished undressing, standing fully on his knees. his cock was throbbing, pre-cum leaked from his slit, covering his veins. he pumped his dick a few time, gathering just enough of his stickiness to coat two of his fingers.
matt dragged his digits between your folds and you could feel him placing both fingers on your hole, teasing it before sliding the first one in. your oozing juices made it easier for him, and in a few seconds matt was already able to add another one. you let your mouth hang open as you felt yourself getting fuller, matt’s long fingers moving inside you.
“already taking me so well” he praised. “my good girl, gon’ make you feel so good” matt continued to thrust his fingers, your grip on the sheets getting tighter as you felt the pressure on your lower belly starting to grow.
“please please please” you cried out loud. of course his fingers felt good, but you knew if he hit your spot, it was over. and you wanted to cum around his cock, you wanted to feel it deep inside you, touching your cervix, opening you up.
matt understood your whines and chuckled, removing his fingers from you. he positioned himself between your legs, wrapping his knuckles around his shaft and bringing it near your pussy. matt pushed his tip on your clit, rubbing it slowly before returning to your hole. he held your thighs apart, gradually burying his cock in you. you couldn’t help but moan loudly — matt was huge. “fuck you’re so fucking tight” he gasped, feeling your walls squeezing him.
“like a virgin all over again hm?” he said, letting you adjust to his size. you nodded desperately. matt filled you up so perfectly, his veins pumping against you as his tip oozed pre-cum. “lookin’ so fucking perfect around my cock”
he began to move his hips forward, lazily dragging his dick in and out of your pussy. “matt, please, ‘m so close” you breathed out, one of your hands tangling on his hair while the other one scratched his back, trying to get him closer somehow.
“don’t need to ask baby” matt chocked on a moan, his own high approaching. “wanna see you cumming all over my cock, my perfect girl”.
“‘m gonna cum!” you cried, throwing your head back as your orgasm washed over you. your whole body trembled as you squeezed matt even tighter, which helped him reach his own high. as you were still cumming, matt suddenly released his thick, white spurt inside you.
matt slowed the pace of his thrusts as he finished inside of you, his body collapsing over yours. with a heavy sigh, he tilted his head, looking at you with puppy eyes. “kissy?” he asked and you chuckled, sealing your lips together in a tender, sweet kiss.
“feel better?” he asked and you nodded, silently thanking him. “promise i’m never gonna let this happen again, if we have a problem we’re gonna fuck it out.”
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— TAGLIST ♡⊹𑄽୧ @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia @riasturns @faiyaz555 @sturnslutz @alesturniolos @emely9274 @courta13 @elandrys @sturns-mermaid @mattsplaything @marrykisskilled @bells-sturn @mattsgstring @strnilolover @jetaimevous @aaliyahsturniolo @evie-sturns @loveliest-sturniolo
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matt masterlist | complete masterlist
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hannamoon143 · 2 days ago
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You drew stars around my scars ✮⋆˙
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Life is hard. Some people don't know how to cope with that. Some people just try to feel mentally better by causing physical pain instead. How ironical, isn't it? Oh but bless you, that lee felix is in your life. Because this man never misses a thing.⋆。°✩
Genre:Angst,Hurt/comfort
Warnings:Sh,a bit childhood trauma, Depression, Crying, mentions of food,mentions of bad eating habits
Lee felix x fem.Reader
Words: 3,9k
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a/n: hey everyone<33 To write this fic brought me some comfort too, and it's healing me a bit more everytime i can use my own experiences,emotions and thoughts to write something that comforts others too, and relate to y/n a lot. And i know i'm not the only one, so i hope this can bring everyone that reads it a bit comfort. And pls always remember what of a beautiful person you are. Hurting yourself is never ever the only solution. If you need someone to talk, reach out to someone, anyone, also me if you don't have anyone. I'd rather have literally any person cry for hours in my arms, or vent to me in my dm's than have them hurt their own bodies, that always supports them. Everything felix says in that fic is true, and they r my own thoughts about this. I love you all, take care of yourselves.<3
Depression takes a lot from you. It takes your motivation, productivity, the will to socialize, and your happiness. It’s unfair isn’t it? Little, happy children become tired, broken adults.
People always think depression is something where you sit in your bed the whole day and cry. Well that is half true. Yes, there are days like that, but that’s far not everything. The worst are those dull days, when you feel entirely numb, but your life has to go on anyways. No joy in your heart, and no tears in your eyes. Just a big nothing in your mind.
After a while you figure it out though. It’s always those numb episodes, until every emotion you thought didn’t exist the days before, crashes down on you. And it’s overwhelming. Every.single.time.
But what if you’d find something that could ‚help‘ you? Something that brought you pain and relief at the same time? That made you feel alive, in the numb episodes and distracted you from the pain in the days where you broke down? The price was just your beautiful skin, and blood...
A problem was though, once you’d start, it would be very hard to stop again. But why should you anyways? Why should you stop when it was the only thing seemingly bringing you comfort for some short time?
It started off by you, picking at your skin absimendtly whenever you felt anxious, or when you just didn’t pay attention. It felt relieving. It was the burning pain when you scatched on your skin so hard it was slightly bloody, making you feel like your feelings actually mattered. And then that one night. That night everything crashed down on you. Your friends wanted nothing to do with you anymore, the few you had before, cut contact. You couldn’t even be mad at them. Who wouldn’t be annoyed by someone who constantly cancelled plans, and gave off a „depressing, annoying attitude“? Well these were their words. Oh but you saw it coming. All the overthinking in the middle of the night, those worst case scenarios, they had come true.
And your family? You never had a healthy relationship with them. So now, that you were grown up, the contact was almost entirely dead. And yeah, there was your boyfriend felix, but you’d never burden him with your problems. He already had enough on his mind with the world tour and all the new released albums, of the band he was in.
And that was it. No one there that you could reach out to, no one to comfort you, when your heart and mind were breaking into millions of glass splitters. Every person reaches their breaking point someday. And that day was yours. You remembered the night clearly. You were sitting on the bathroom floor, crying out all the emotion you had been holding in for too long. You had no friends anymore. No family. And pretty sure soon no boyfriend too. Nothing to hold onto.
Then you reached out to a drawer. You didn’t really register what you were doing as you took it out. A simple, silver blade. A little cut on your wrist. A line of crimson red blood on your skin.
At first you were terrified. What had you done? Why weren’t you affected by the stinging pain on your wrist, and the blood building in the small cut? Why did it in fact feel good? And then you decided to try it again, just to answer those questions right?
That’s where it started.
You knew you had depression. But going to a therapist? You were scared, probably too lazy, and you could never tell all your problems to a complete stranger. And most of all you didn’t want felix to worry either. He was the only one left, and soon he would surely leave too. He was the sweetest, sunny person on this earth, he deserved someone that matched his energy, and wasn’t so… hard to love.
Every single task felt like a hard, impossible chore. Getting out of your bed felt like doing the unbelievable. Doing the most simple things like showering, or brushing your teeth seemed so far away, that you could only master them on your best days. Some days, you went to work, did everything you had to, with a straight, stoic face. That was until you came home, laid into your bed, and silent tears would build wet spots on your pillow.
But somedays, even crying seemed too overwhelming. All you could do was lay in your dark room, staring at the wall. It was just the darkness and you, and somewhere in your mind, a voice whispering that it would help to cut...
And then there were these rare days, on which you felt almost too overwhelmed. It were those days you came home, and added another scar to the gallery of them on your arms. You questioned your life on these days. Because truly, you didn’t see a reason why you should be here right now. No, you weren’t proud of it. But who was there to stop you? Why should you quit if it was the only thing keeping you sane right now? When it was only the stinging pain who could make you slip out of the monotone haze in your mind, for at least a little bit time.
But it would be stupid to assume felix didn’t notice something was off. Lee felix was a pure person. Someone who could make even the rainiest days shine bright. And he cared about the people he loved more than anything else.
When you started cancelling plans it was already alarming for him. You were someone who never cancelled plans with him. You were usually a happy person, someone who made jokes that were actually funny. Someone who made him laugh with your little quirks, that he noticed over time. Someone who comforted him when he felt bad. And most of all you were the most excited person when you two would meet up. You never missed to tell him how much you loved him, that he was your happy person, and your comfort person.
That was before
Before suddenly everything stopped. He rarely got to see your beautiful face now anymore. You took a long time to respond to his texts, and when you did, they were short, and dry. This didn’t feel like you. Felix knew you. And that wasn’t you. This wasn’t the happy girl he met. And he surely wasn’t planning on letting things go like this forever. Something wasn’t right. And no matter what you said or did, to try and get away from him, and shut everything out, he would stay by your side. He would find out what was wrong and do everything possible in this world to make you feel like yourself again.
It was another day today. Another number on the calendar. You stopped looking at it. It didn’t matter anyways. Those were just numbers on paper, and they would never change anything. So you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling even heavier than usual. Like a zombie you just quickly got dressed, not even registering what you were wearing, and drank a mug of coffee. It would make you feel a bit more awake for at least a few hours. Eating breakfast had become impossible in the last few weeks. You were barely eating anything the whole day, to be honest. Sometimes, you just couldn’t stand up and make yourself something. But most times, you just didn’t feel hungry.
You went your usual way to work. At the bus, you took a short glance at your phone. You used to be on your phone a lot for the silliest things, but now you hated it. You hated the brightness, and that everytime you looked at it you had to interact with others. And the worst was, it remdinded you of what you had lost. The spark you had in your eyes on photos from a long time ago.
Something popped up on the screen
A message from felix. Of course. He messaged you every single day. You couldn’t ignore him, no matter how shitty felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him. So you opened it.
Hey sunshine<3How are you today? I thought of maybe grabbing some takeout and watching a movie together tonight, since i have off early! I’ll even let you pick one of those cheesy romcoms you love so much. Love u^^
You sighed. He was still so sweet, so caring, when he should be really annoyed, right? His girlfriend was a walking zombie, why didn’t he already break up with you?
Hey lix, sorry no time today.
Then you quickly put your phone away. You couldn’t stand thinking of his lips turning into that sad pout, when he’d read your answer. But you couldn’t meet him. You didn’t care how stubborn that was, but you wouldn’t let him see you like this. He would see right through you, and get you to tell him what was wrong.
You stopped making excuses someday. Who even cared? Sooner or later he’d leave, just like your friends. No lame excuses would matter then. Someone like you was unlovable. And that would never change.
As felix read your response he sighed.
That was enough. He wouldn’t let your relationship carry on like that. He wouldn’t let you carry on like that. Something was clearly wrong and he wouldn’t stand so far away and watch you slowly shut down from the entire world. Not anymore. Tonight he would come to your apartment, if you wanted to or not.
You didn’t remember what you did throughout the day. When you tried to recall it, there were only hazy memories, covered in a grey, thick fog. You didn’t even remember how you came home. Everything just happened. Now, you were walking through your apartment door, kicking off your shoes and coat. With a deep sigh, you dragged yourself to the bathroom. You shut the door, immediately sinking down on the floor. You were exhausted. More than that. The past days, or maybe even weeks you had held everything in more than usual. You felt like passing out right then and there, on the cold bathroom tiles. But there was something else. You knew that feeling. When you would have spent too many days in numbness, then at one point, every emotion, everything you thought wasn’t there before, creeps up in your throat from the depths of your soul. You feel the grieve, the sadness, the anger, the guilt, every single emotion crashing down on you at once. And then you can’t stop it anymore.
Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you pulled your knees up for a bit comfort.
These were the moment you hated the most, besides the numbness. Being numb is uneblievably tiring, but when all the feelings, everything comes up at once, that is even worse. You never knew how to deal with your emotions well. When you were a kid you never got the chance to express emotions. Crying was not allowed. If you did, you’d hear „ Stop it, or i’ll give you a reason to cry.“ If you screamed or hit out of anger you’d get punished in some way. Only a polite smile was, what was allowed to show on the outside, what to show to other people. That was probably part of the reason why you’d grown into a person who had these unhealthy, shitty habits, instead of expressing and coping with their emotions well.
You knew you should just let it pass. Endure these feelings. Maybe text someone to try and distract yourself. But somehow, you always went back to drowning out emotions with physical pain. You took the sharp blade from the bathroom drawer, your hands going unbelievable shaky like they always did when you took it out. You only started to cry more. You hated that you did it. You hated that you were a person that couldn’t handle their own feelings like a responsible adult, and had to shut them out with self harming instead. And still you did it again and again. You hated the way your arm looked when you put your sleeve up now. White lines from old cvts. Slightly reddish ones from some that happened some time ago. And those brightred ones. Reminders of not too long ago. They made you so angry. Reminding you of who you were. Of what you were.
So you decided to look away. You just put the blade to your wrist, looking at the blank bathroom wall. It was already so familiar, you knew where it would hurt the most without even looking.
Felix was searching around his apartment for that gray hoodie you wanted to have everytime you saw him wearing it. Maybe it would cheer you a bit up. As he finally found it, he grabbed the brownies he had made for you earlier, and his keys, heading out his apartment, to head to yours instead.
He started his car. It was a short drive so there was not much time for thinking. But there were some thoughts in the back of his head. Wasn’t he overstepping? You clearly didn’t want to see him, maybe you were also just annoyed?
But felix shook those voices off. He knew you. He had known you for years, and this wasn’t you. He had to do this.
And then he was already at your apartment. Slowly he got out of the car, taking the things, and started to walk up the stairs.
Soon he was in front of your door. Should he knock? He knew where your spare key was but he didn’t want to be respectless. So he softly knocked on the door.
„Y/n? It’s me, felix. I know you didn’t want to meet, but… i was worried. Can we talk please, my love?“
He waited for a minute. But there was no answer. Maybe you really weren’t at home? He decided to just try it. To his surprises the door was unlocked. That meant you were home, but also why would you let your door stay unlocked? He sighed, and locked it from the inside. He quietly took off his shoes, and put them on the side. Yours were scattered messily on the floor, and your coat too. Usually you hated when something in your apartment wasn’t organized. Maybe you were in a hurry before. He went into the kitchen, wich was dark, putting the brownies on the counter. „Y/n?“ he softly called out again. Still no answer.
But there, suddenly he heard something. A quiet, mumbling or...crying? His brows furrowed and he tried to follow the sound. There. In the bathroom. It seemed like you didn’t hear him calling you. At first he considered just going back to your kitchen and waiting there for you to come out, but when he heard another deep sob from you, he knew what to do. Whatever was going on right now, he wanted to be by your side. So he took a deep breath and opened the door.
„Y/N, what is g-“ His eyes widened in shock, and your head perked up immediately at the door clicking open, your gaze changing from surprise, to confusion, to somewhat realization and guilt. The sight in front of him horrified him. His beautiful, lovely girlfriend sat on the bathroom floor, her face red and puffy from crying, and a sharp blade in her hand. And your arm… How couldn’t he notice? He just stood there, in the door, staring at you.
You couldn’t read his face. Was he mad…? Of course he’d be mad. You quickly reacted as you got to your senses again. You jumped up, letting the blade fall, and a drop of blood dropping down on your white bathroom tiles.
„Felix…. I can explain, i h-haven’t, it’s not what it looks like o-okay? I’m okay, p-please i know you’re mad but-“
You got cut off. You couldnt’t even say anything more, because suddenly you were wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s comforting, warm embrace. You forgot how good a hug from him felt… And when you got a little glance at his face that was it. No anger, no twisted kind of any emotion against you. There was pure sympathy and love. When you also saw a tear rolling down his face, you couldn’t take it anymore. You buried your face in his neck, and let go. You sobbed uncontrollably, your arms and legs trembling so much, to the point your knees gave in, and felix slowly sank to the ground with you. Why did the cvts on your arms suddenly really hurt for the first time? He had you pulled on his lap, rocking you back and forth, stroking your hair gently. „Shhh, it’ll be alright. I’m here now, you are not alone.“
Good thirty minutes later, your sobbing had stopped, and only warm paths of tears remained on your cheeks. Felix lifted your head from his neck a bit, so he could look into your eyes. Though you had just cried your heart out, it was still the most mesmerizing pair of eyes he had seen in his life. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
„Let me treat those, okay?“ He simply said, glancing at your cuts.
He was gentle. He desinfected every single cut, apologizing every time you hissed at the sharp pain. Then he put some healing ointment on your fresh ones, and some at your older ones too. Then, with gentle, calm hands he bandaged your arms. He ended his treament with featherlight kisses on them. Then he got up, helping you up too. He had his hands on your side, his eyes on your face.
„Love…I won’t ever judge you, or get mad at you for anything, i hope you know that okay? I know that this is probably your way to cope with things, and i know that you know it’s not healthy. But it’s okay. Please just promise me, you will come to me instead of doing that, from now on hm? Everytime you want to do it you call me, text me, whatever. I’d rather have you crying in my arms for hours, venting to me for hours, you screaming at me, or do whatever you need to, than have you hurt and bleeding entirely alone on the floor. I’ll come over, and do whatever i need to, to cheer you up alright? And don’t shut me out from your life. I want to be a part again. I miss the way you’d text me when you see something that makes you smile. Or when you send me pics of the cute cats you saw on the sidewalk. Or when you just simply tell me about your day. And most important of all, i’ll stay by your side okay? No matter what. I will do everything to help you recover, and build up your life in a way that makes you happy okay? Let me help you sunshine. You don’t need to do it all alone.No matter how hard it in the past was, I’m here now, and I don’t plan on leaving soon.“
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time you smiled at him. „Okay lixie. Okay. I’ll try.“
Then he softly smiled at you, and guided you to your livingroom, where he made you sit on the couch. He rushed off to the kitchen, and was soon back again with a plate of brownies and his gray hoodie. „It seems like you didn’t eat much lately, you’ve been getting a bit too skinny, love. But don’t worry, now i’m here to feed you with everything you want to eat. You don’t need to move a single finger.“ He mumbled, as he first handed you the hoodie, wich you put on immediately and snuggled into it. It had always been your comfort hoodie, since it was big, fluffy, and always smelled like him a lot. Then he put down the plate in front of you. Felix’ brownies had always been one of your favorite things. They were delicious like no one else’s.Everytime you asked him what he was throwing in there, he always told you that it was his love and care wich he made them with. You believed him, this man made everything better with his sunny personality.
You simply smiled at him, and took one of the brownies, taking a big bite
„That’s my girl.“ He chuckled, ruffling your hair. As you were munching, and he was watching you with a fond smile, he suddenly asked „Do you have a marker somewhere here?“ You looked up, raising a brow. „Yeah, in the drawer over there i guess, why?“ He just stood up, and opened said drawer, taking the marker. He was back by your side in an instant. „Please give me one arm love“ He said, politely like always. You were still pretty confused but how could you say no to that? So you slowly laid your bandaged arm in his hands. He kissed it once and then softly started to draw on it. „What are you doing?“ you asked, mouth full of brownie.
„Those my love, are battle scars. It isn’t beautiful how you got them, but they are a part of you now, and they make you the person you are. They deserve to be called beautiful now too, like every single body part of yours. I love every part of you. And when they are healed, I’ll kiss each and everyone of them, but for now, they deserve to be treated with care. They will only heal properly, if you let them. If you’d always be angry when you’d look at them, they would never really heal. You would never really heal. You need to forgive yourself, and someday you will be able to move on. They show how far you’ve come, that it was very hard, but you never gave up. Battle scars, my love.“
You looked into his eyes. He said all that so sincere, you believed every word. And then as he was done you saw what he did. A lot of little stars, and a pretty moon in the middle were drawn on the bandages. And next to the moon he wrote a little note
„Because i want you to never forget who you are. You are Y/n L/n, a fighter, and the most beautiful woman i know.“
„How did i deserve you lee felix?“ You murmured in awe.
„You deserve the world, and more my love.“
And that really was a turning point. Thanks to felix, your days weren’t dull anymore. He was always there with you, laughing and talking a lot, but he also respected when you wanted some alone time. And when you came to him somedays, crying and telling him that you wanted to do it again, he took you in his arms, wrapped you both into a blanket and rocked you back and forth, until no tears were left anymore, and the world seemed a bit brighter again. Then he mumbled soothing reassurances into your hair, kissing you on the forehead.
And like this, you were willing to try. You were willing to try and recover, and create a life that you loved living, with him in it.
a/n: now a note to: @athenawindwolf because I didn't have the courage to say it that night ( we ignore that i'm writing this while you are texting me,still in that night), i'll be your chan friend, and in the context of this fanfic your felix friend, whenever you need me. I hope yk, I never judge anyone, and i've been through a lot too so rlly i would never ever judge or tell anyone if you tell me smth. We said we r the big sisters of our friends now, so that means we r sisters right? Come to me whenever you need to talk. Now this was for u, and I also have to say i'm thankful someone is sharing one of my interests now<3 Ily di angelo.@athenawindwolf (and i hope i didn't make you cry with this fic)
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ourhees · 3 days ago
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WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ⟡──𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾
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𝒊𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗗 .. ❛ 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗉
𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf! hyung line x gf! reader── && angst + crying, mentions of depressing lifestyle❔ 𝖶𝖨𝖲𝖯 & 𝖪𝖨𝖲𝖲𝖤𝖲
◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ : perhaps writing this after i saw my first love .. i’m glad to see he’s well and he’s taking care of himself..
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𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦
you spent hours talking to heeseung, thinking this was going to be your way of healing from the breakup, the breakup you both agreed upon. being friends with heeseung only hurt you more, and it was time to put an end to that hurting. “are you alright?” heeseung asks, pulling you closer to him. “i don’t think we should be friends anymore.” your voice broke, and the tears began to fall. you tears soaked onto his jacket, he pressed one final kiss to your forehead. “im proud of you for trying.” heeseung tried to smile, tears forming in his eyes. “i’ll always love you, princess.” you cried into his chest, knowing it’d be the last time you’re able to do that.
𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖩𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦
being friends with jay after the breakup wasn’t apart of the plan. you thought that, being friends with jay would heal the part of you that yearned for him, yet it only hurt you. you found yourself crying daily, wishing for a chance with him again. all you could think about was every good memory, you shared with him. this was too much, you couldnt push forward anymore. you called jay, sobs forming as you let the phone ring. “hello?” he answered. “we can’t be friends anymore.. this hurts.” you sobbed, trying to hold it together.” jay took a deep breath, before speaking again. “i understand.. im always here if you need me.” you hung up the phone, your tears seeping into the fabric of your satin pillowcase, soaking it.
𝖲𝖨𝖬 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭
the breakup was mutual, but the final terms were one sided. you tried everything in your power to make sure you don’t lose jake, but the friendship was only flowing one way. jake didn’t make an effort to take you the way you texted him, he barely responded as he tried to keep himself busy from the pain he was feeling. you couldn’t get mad at him for it, you couldnt push him away it would hurt you even more. maybe this one time, you needed to push him away, to stop this depressing lifestyle you’ve grown to live. “we can’t be friends anymore, i just can’t do it.” you texted jake, your year drops falling onto your cell phone. you heard an instant buzz once you tossed your phone, a message reading’”okay. i’m sorry for everything.” on your lockscreen.
𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭
being friends wasn’t an option, especially to sunghoon. the only reason he agreed to heing friends was because he didn’t want to see you hurting without him, falling apart piece by piece without his warming presence. eventually though, you still fell apart with him. you tried to keep it together, but sunghoon couldnt bare seeing you like this. crying for him when things go wrong, sobbing hard into the sweaters he gave you. “for your own good, im putting an end to this situation.” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. “if i’m the reason you’re hurting, this cant go on any longer.” sunghoon pulls you close to him, his grip tightened, giving you the final embrace you needed. the final embrace youll ever receive.
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taglist open 🎀 ! send an ask or comment . remember: you are always loved ♡
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gracie-eilish · 2 days ago
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Peachy🧡✨🍑 pt. 2
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an: here she is y'all. i was NOT expecting all the excitement from part one so thank you for that!🥹 that was so exciting to see!! im not used to writing any kind of smut, so please forgive any bumps in the road if you find any🥺 i’m trying over here!🫣🤪 anyways, i hope you like it!!
warnings: smut, fingering (r! receiving)👀, billie being a total flirt cause duh
It had been about a week since you last saw Billie, but for some reason you felt like no time had passed. Because for you at least, you'd subconsciously spent every day with her since that night. Her little flirts and nicknames had been ringing in your mind, making you blush and your heart skip a beat even just thinking about it. In fact, you couldn't even look at a peach without your breath catching. And don't even mention what happend at night when you were alone with your thoughts...
Tonight your friends were all getting together again but this time at Billie's place. You guys all rotated around apartments so it wasn't one person's responsibility to host everyone. You were already in the area so you decided to head over a little early, wanting to return the favor of Billie helping you clean up the other night, hoping you can help set things up tonight.
You gave yourself one last glance in the car's mirror before reaching to open the car door. You stopped yourself remembering your mini perfume in your purse. You spritzed some vanilla and peach scented perfume, your signature scent, onto your pulse points, and a few extra sprays on your neck before tossing the bottle back into your purse and getting out of the car.
You weren't deliberately planning for something to happen tonight... but if something did you wouldn't be mad, your little friendly crush was growing to be not so friendly anymore.
Within seconds of you ringing the doorbell, the door flew open revealing Billie. She had a surprised but sultry smile on her face.
"Hi peach," she said. “You’re here early! D’ya miss me that much?” Her words sent a shiver down your spine and a flush to your face.
You giggled trying to brush it off. “Stop Billie. I wanted to return the favor from the other night and help you get everything ready for tonight!” You said sweetly.
So sweetly it made Billie’s heart start to melt. It was quite obvious to everyone Billie had some kind of feelings for you. And for a while Billie just thought it was her normal kind of crush on a hot girl. But recently she felt the shift too. It was something more and moments like this made it hard for her to keep up the charm.
Well, not that hard.
“God you really are an angel aren’t ya?” She said with a smirk, finally letting you into her apartment. You just giggled and continued down the hallway towards her kitchen, leaving Billie standing in the cloud of sweet peachy perfume you left in the air. Billie inhaled your sweet perfume as she shut the door and leaned back on it for a second before composing herself and making her way to the kitchen.
After a little while, the rest of your friends started to arrive, tearing the two of you apart. But Billie kept her eye on you subtly all night. She just couldn’t get over it.. The way your hair just fell perfectly over your shoulders, and the sweet freckles dotting your nose, and how the sound of your giggle could win grammys in Billie’s opinion, and that god damn sweet peach perfume that was now stuck on every surface in her apartment infiltrating her space like you were infiltrating her mind. And the sweet little looks you gave Billie right back across the room, made more than just her heart throb.
As the night grew on and conversations grew tired, someone suggested putting on a movie. More as background noise but everyone gathered around and snuggled up in their chosen spots.
Naturally Billie patted the spot next to her when you made your way over. But being the flirt she is, Billie pulled you down onto her lap (not that you were complaining), wrapping her arms around your middle as you got comfy.
“You cozy, peach?” You blushed at the nickname. You had just started to get used to the spontaneous “baby” or “mama” but having a nickname all to yourself was kind of driving you wild.
You just nodded, not trusting your voice right now. Billie hummed in satisfaction, smiling before pressing a soft kiss right below your ear making you breath hitch.
As the movie began, Billie pulled you in closer to her, your hands brushing against each other on your tummy.
The movie being a rom-com, provided the perfect backdrop for you and Billie. As the movie went on, and tensions rose, so did the tension between you and Billie. Billie's hand slowly moved under the blanket, her fingers gently brushing against your thigh. The touch was subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You bit her lip, trying to suppress a gasp, as Billie's fingers began to explore, slowly inching upwards.
Billie's touch was deliberate and teasing, making your breath catch in your throat. She knew your friends were just inches away, oblivious to the intimate game unfolding beneath the blanket. The contrast between the innocent movie and your hidden passion was exhilarating. Billie's fingers traced lazy circles on your inner thigh, her touch feather-light and teasing. Your heart raced, and your body tingled with anticipation.
"Can you stay quiet for me peachy?” Billie whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "Mm-hmm." you nodded, unable to properly speak.
“Is this okay?” Billie whispered, even the flirty little minx she was, of course made sure you were okay first. You smiled softly before nodding again, letting her continue.
Her nose nuzzled into your jaw before she pressed a few kisses there. “You always smell so good peachy,” she purred making you let out a breathy, quiet moan. Billie's fingers continued their ascent, slipping under the hem of your shorts, finding the soft lace of your panties.
With expert precision, Billie hooked her fingers into the fabric, slowly pulling it aside, exposing your folds. Your breath hitched as you felt the cool air on her sensitive skin, your body already responding to Billie's touch. Billie's fingers traced the outline of your pussy, teasing the edges, making you squirm under the blanket.
"You're so wet already, for me peach," Billie whispered, her voice dripping with desire. "I love how responsive you are mama." Your cheeks flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, knowing your friends were mere feet away, unaware of the erotic scene playing out beside them. And forget about the fact that of all the ways you thought about hooking up with Billie, this surprisingly was not one of them… not that you minded either way.
Billie's middle finger dipped into your slick heat, eliciting a soft moan that you quickly stifled with a hand over your mouth.
Billie's finger moved in slow circles, massaging your clit, her thumb pressing gently on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body trembled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to focus on the movie, but Billie's touch was too distracting, too pleasurable. You could feel your juices flowing, coating Billie's finger as she worked her magic.
“You’re doing so good baby love,” she whispered in your ear, pressing another kiss to your neck. “Being such a good girl.. bein’ such a peach.” Her words sent you into overdrive, biting down on your lip so hard you were sure you would draw blood.
As the movie's dialogue filled the room, Billie's finger slid deeper, curling upwards, searching for your sweet spot. Your breath quickened, your body tensing as you fought to keep your moans silent. Billie's thumb continued to rub circles on your clit, her touch firm and relentless. Your hips bucked involuntarily, your body betraying your attempts at control. You turned your head slightly to look at Billie who until you turned your head, looked totally un-phased while watching the movie. As if she wasn’t ravishing her complete dream girl under the blanket.
"Let go f’me, angel," Billie whispered, her voice a soft command. "I want to feel you come around my fingers." Her words were like a spell, pushing you over the edge. It was so good you heard a ringing in your ears.. wait no. You actually were hearing a ringing.
You and Billie looked away from each other towards the sound of the ringing.
Of fucking course it was your phone.
You hit decline, if it was that important they’d call back. You sheepishly apologized and giggled at your phone being so loud right in the middle of the movie. You turned your ringer off with a sigh and settled back into Billie’s lap.
She pinched your clit, sending a jolt through you, you kinda forgot her hand was still in your pants. Giggling, you snuggled back into her and her arms tightened back around you as she started to rub slow circles on you clit, building you back up.
Until your fucking phone rang again.
Well it didn’t ring, but the screen lit up with your siblings contact across the screen again. With a huff you situated your shorts and got up to leave the room to take the call. Billie followed quickly behind, watching you stumble like a baby deer a little bit. She stifled a laugh as you picked up the phone.
“Hello?” You answered with a bite in your voice. Billie came up behind you, snaking her arms back around your waist. She nuzzled her nose on your jaw before kissing the area.
“This better be fucking important,” You groaned into the phone.
🧡✨🍑🫧
an: and with that i would like to formally introduce you to evil gracie hehehe🫣🥰 do you wanna part 3???👀
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crowsofdarkness · 3 days ago
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Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Thirty One[END]
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-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.
Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?
Authors Note: Okay so when I originally wrote this ending a few years ago for my other blog, I had it kind of abruptly end. Now rereading it, I'm not too fond of it. So I'd be more than happy to eventually write a little epilogue if people are interested!
Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr
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“Careful, Y/N. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Bucky cooed in my ear as he slowly and carefully helped me up the stairs. 
I hissed in pain, the soles of my feet still cut up and raw from my excursion into the woods during my escape. He sensed my discomfort so with a quick scoop, I was in his arms as he ascended up the last few stairs and into our room. 
“Steve called the doctor, he’ll be here soon,” Bucky informed while setting me gently on the bed. 
He stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly, as I did my best to get comfortable and when I rested my eyes on him, my brows knitted in confusion. 
“Why are you standing there?” I asked. 
Bucky shrugged when his eyes traveled down all of the cuts and bruises on my body. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with me given what you went through.” 
I simply patted the bed in front of me, a silent invitation to sit next to me so he sat on the edge of it in front of me and brushed my hair back with his fingers before tying it up away from my face. I couldn’t stop the small smile at the comforting touch. 
I cupped his cheek, my eyes raking over the cuts all over his face. “Did you fight Clint?” 
He nodded in my grasp then left a kiss on the inside of my palm. 
A soft knock on the door brought my attention to the figure behind Bucky and my lips curled in a small smile once again. Bucky didn’t need to look over his shoulder, he already knew who it was. 
“Everything taken care of?” He said while still keeping his eyes on me. 
“No trace left behind,” Steve said. “Dr. Banner is downstairs in your office whenever Y/N is ready.” 
Bucky gave him a nod of thanks before Steve went to leave but my voice stopped him. The look that he gave me broke my heart, the pieces falling into my stomach. While Bucky seemed to be held together and strong for me, Steve seemed broken and tired. 
“Thank you,” was all I said. 
They didn’t have to tell me what exactly he did to save me, I knew that the both of them did whatever they could. 
That brought a smile to his face before he nodded. “Anything for you, Y/N.” 
Bucky and I were alone again so I let out a deep breath. 
“Are Clint and Natasha-are they dead?” I stumbled out the words. 
Bucky’s vibranium hand covered my shaking ones. “We weren’t going to let them get away with what they did to you, Y/N.” 
Tears brimmed at my eyes as I let out a breath. 
“She was your wife at some point, Bucky. You shouldn’t have done that.” 
He brushed his lips over my knuckles. “I would do anything for you, doll.” 
There was a question that had been burning in the back of my mind the whole two hour drive back home. Bucky and I didn’t speak one word but he did have his hand linked with mine. 
“Why did it take you so long to come for me?” I sobbed, tears now falling down my cheeks. 
Bucky sighed while sitting right next to me now, wrapping an arm around me to pull us closer. I buried my face in his chest, the broadness of it muffling my cries. 
“Steve and I never stopped looking for you. The night you were taken, I heard some commotion from the kitchen and when I ran down there you were gone. All I saw was a note on the table,” Bucky said. 
I looked up at him. “Natasha said she wrote the note pretending that I did.” 
“I knew you didn’t. You always sign your notes with your name and a small heart,” Bucky said while wiping a tear from my cheek with a vibranium finger.
My heart warmed at the tiny detail that he clearly paid attention to. 
“Clint had you hidden really well. No one knew about his cabin upstate. It took Steve days to find you.” 
“What about you?” I asked. 
There was one tear pooling at the corner of his eye but he blinked it away fast, not wanting to cry in front of me. 
“I was a complete mess. Steve had to stop me a few times from destroying everything here. As soon as he found your location, I ran out of here like my ass was on fire.” 
I wrapped a tight arm around him while he carefully lifted my legs over his lap, rubbing my back in soothing circles. We sat like this for a while and with his arms around me, I felt a sense of safety that I hadn’t felt in so long that my body relaxed into Bucky. Slumber was creeping up to me and with heavy eyes, I allowed myself the much needed sleep. 
Until I felt Bucky’s body shake uncontrollably. His cries were not quite by any means. 
I looked up at him and my heart fell to the far depths of my stomach again when I noticed he was crying, tears falling rapidly down his face and onto his lap. His breathing became erratic, choking out sobs. 
“Oh, Bucky,” I breathed while grasping his face. “Please don’t cry.” 
“I thought I lost you, doll,” he said through gritted teeth. 
Bucky tried so hard to keep it together for me, knowing that the last thing I needed was to comfort him. 
“I’m right here, alright?” I forced our eyes to lock, not daring to look away for even a half second. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
To seal that promise, I collided our lips together in a tender kiss. One that was short but had the right amount of passion fueling it. There was no hesitation from Bucky as he slid his vibranium hand behind my neck to deepen the kiss, our tongues exploring each crevice of the others mouths. 
“I love you,” he muttered against my lips. 
My ears rang with white noise while my heart jumped into my throat and I pushed Bucky away, eyes looking at him wide. 
“Wh-what did you say?” I stammered. 
The corner of his lips curled up, the corner of his eyes crinkled. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a very long time. I only hate that it took for what happened to you that made me say it.” 
I was soaring, on cloud nine as some would say, hearing his proclamation. I knew that it took a lot for him to say that, let alone feel this way. 
“I love you too, Bucky.” I replied. 
We shared another kiss only this one was cut short due to Steve calling for us from the bottom of the stairs, Dr. Banner was ready to check over all of my wounds. 
Bucky lifted my chin with his flesh finger. “I promise that I won’t let anything like this happen to you again.” 
I nodded with a smile. “I know.” 
In the days that followed, recovery wasn’t easy but I knew I could do it as long as I had Bucky by my side. In the beginning, our relationship might have been a moment of weakness but the love we began to develop for each other proved that we were always meant for one another. 
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atlabeth · 3 days ago
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I desperately need you to give me some jealous nikolai lanstov I'm not even jokinh
my love mine all mine
lowkey continuation of bad luck and im with you; can be read standalone though!
pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem reader
summary: after your return to ravka, nikolai's resolve is tested at a ball.
a/n: i have saved this ask since september because i knew one day i would get around to it. i love nikolai lantsov and i dont write jealous fics often so here we go!! this is technically a continuation of bad luck and im with you but you can read it separately. i keep going back to these two for some reason lmao?? idk. theyre childhood friends to lovers with so much strife in between and that's so special to me lmao. but yah enjoy i MISSED WRITING FOR HIM<3
wc: 2.8k
warning(s): nikolai is a lil jealous obviously! small bit of angst, mostly fluff, lil steamy at the end.
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Nikolai feels his lip curling, feels his hand tighten on his glass. 
This is a party. A ball, more specifically, but a celebration nonetheless. He should be smiling, mingling, talking up some baron or duke in the name of Ravka’s economy. He is a prince, after all—a bastard, second son of a prince that plans to take the throne at that—and he’s just returned from years at sea. It is in his best interest to do what he does best and talk as much as possible. If anything, he should be arm in arm with the Sun Summoner to boost both their positions. 
But all he can do is stare at you. 
You’re the embodiment of grace. Your practiced smile looks wholly genuine no matter how long you have to keep it up. Your laugh seems to make others smile without even realizing, ringing out clear like church bells. It’s a sound Nikolai knows he would worship to the end of his days, at least. 
You stand in the midst of noblemen and Nikolai only recognizes one—Artem Aslanov, a son of nobles that the two of you spent much of your youth with. He wonders if you remember each other as well. He certainly seems to, the way he stands just a bit too close to you, the way he’s absolutely eager for your attention. Nikolai holds back a scoff. 
The others are likely from various other Ravkan settlements, though one has to be Kaelish, with his almost offensively ginger hair. 
Not that any of it matters, though. Not one of them can tear their eyes away from you as you talk, magnetic with both your words and inherent charm, and they drink up every bit of your presence. 
Something stirs inside Nikolai at the sight. Logically, he knows he has little to worry about—he knows this is your duty as much as it is his, and you care little for any man’s affections but his. 
But Saints, his heart does not want to listen to silly things such as logic. In this moment, Nikolai is reminded of the truth at its barest—you’re a noblewoman of good breeding, quite extravagant wealth, and considerable beauty. Your years at sea have caused you to develop a quick wit and sharp tongue, and it only serves to make you more appealing.
Your flashy return to Ravka has made you perhaps the most desirable lady at court, and Nikolai is forced to realize he no longer has you all to himself anymore. 
Nikolai has planned to come back and take the Lantsov throne for years now, but he can’t help but long for those days again. Teaching you all the ins and outs of the Volkvolny, how to do every sailor’s knot he knows, showing you the misty mountains of the Wandering Isle and the rolling fields of Novyi Zem and the wonderful world outside of Ravka’s courtly constraints. 
Taking over the ships of slavers and clashing blades with drüskelle and watching a thousand sunrises and sunsets together, unbound by anything but tangled up in every part of each other. 
It was almost laughable. You were worried of Nikolai charming others upon your return, and yet here he was, unable to look away from you for even the slightest second because he was jealous of some noble son.
“Your Highness, are you alright?” 
Nikolai turns back to the conversation he is meant to be paying attention to, already offering a smile that he hopes will make up for his utter lack of focus. Of course, he doesn’t really care what this Kerch merchant thinks of him, and Nikolai’s word will probably mean little to his parents at the moment. They’re still quite angry at him for all his Sturmhondish escapades. This man, whose name he has already forgotten, doesn’t seem to know he’s wasting his time. 
“Of course I am,” he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. He means to say more, but then he catches a glance of Artem pulling you to the side, his hand lingering on your waist much too close for comfort. He’s surprised he doesn’t break his glass with how his fingers clench around it even tighter.  
“Then I would be honored for you to consider my—” 
“I apologize, Jansen.” Nikolai ignores the look on his face at both his interruption and being called the wrong name as he drops his hand. “It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but I’m afraid I must take my leave.” 
Nikolai departs before he can get another word out. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his ‘disrespect’ but again, he really could not care less. 
He expects to have to weave his way through the crowd, but a path parts for him wherever he moves. Benefits to being a Lantsov prince rather than another privateer on the sea, he supposes. He feels a number of eyes on him as he walks, but he’s focused on one thing and one thing only. 
Artem seems to be as well, seeing as he doesn’t even look up while he continues talking to you. Nikolai doesn’t blame him for being enraptured, but he does wonder what he thinks that boorish smile will do to you. 
Nikolai exclaims your name as he comes up next to you, sliding his arm around your waist like he’s done a thousand times before and claiming his place at your side. “I’ve been looking for you, milaya. You’ve been awfully popular tonight.”
Your gleaming gaze turns to him and Nikolai feels like he can melt. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him—not even Alina can muster up something to rival your brightness. 
“Nikolai!” 
Again, the way you say his name makes him weak at the knees. The poshness of your Ravkan faded while you were at sea around common sailors and vagrants, and though he can tell you’re trying your best to hide it in the name of courtly etiquette, it still bleeds through. He adores your accent, how it shows the woman you’ve become rather than the girl you ran away from. 
“I’ve been looking for you,” you counter as you lean into him. You’ve applied some fanciful perfume, and it’s intoxicating. He has to stop himself from inhaling deeply—he has little shame when it comes to you, but he’s got to have some poise. “You’re the belle of the ball, Mister Prince.” 
“And you’re the apple of everyone’s eye, lapushka,” he says. “Especially mine.” 
Your heartbeat has been steadily increasing ever since he slotted himself at your side, and he can feel it speed even more with his words. It makes Nikolai smile without even fully realizing it. 
He feels Artem’s gaze on him all the while, and Nikolai chooses to ignore it until now. He looks up, making sure his eyes widen cartoonishly and his smile deepens with the same caliber. “Aslanov! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you!” 
“Your Highness,” he says, polite but terse as he bows his head. “It’s good to see you—it has truly been too long.” 
“Oh, no need for titles,” Nikolai admonishes. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”
He puts particular emphasis on that word, and Artem shifts ever so slightly under Nikolai’s gaze. So he makes him nervous—good. 
“We are,” he agrees, and he looks back at you. “We were merely catching up—it has been years since I last had the good fortune to be in your presence.” Artem smiles at you once again, far more genuine than anything he’s given Nikolai. “Of course, I look forward to hearing about everything you learned at university.” 
“I’ve certainly learned a lot,” you say. Very tongue-in-cheek—you don’t even try to hide it. 
Of course. The cover story for Nikolai’s being away from court was his apprenticeships, culminating in his studies at the University of Ketterdam—it would be a shame of the highest order for your parents to admit you ran away to avoid the marriage they’d planned for you, and even more so to admit it had gotten their daughter kidnapped by slavers, so they simply said you joined him there. 
Advancing your studies for a better view, they’d spouted. We want our heir to be well-educated on all matters of the world. Nikolai knows you learned more on the seas by his side than you would have in a classroom staring at endless amounts of books. He only regrets he can’t shout how amazing you’ve been for the past few years from the rooftops. 
“Perhaps we could discuss it privately some time.” Nikolai will give it to him; his smile is a bit more charming this time. He still wants to punch it off him. “You know, my family has only refined our winemaking over the years—we’d have a wonderful time with a bottle of our finest red—”
“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” Nikolai cuts in before you can respond. He can’t help it—he’s raring to have you to himself, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take of Artem’s flirting. “My parents are eager to speak to you, darling. We’ll see you around, Aslanov.” 
He pulls you away, once again feeling Artem’s eyes on the two of you. He purposefully pulls you closer against him—your warmth against him does wonders to quell the spike of jealousy in his chest.
“You really are impossible,” you say wryly, but you make no move to part from his side as he leads you through the crowd. 
“I’m just making sure he understands the situation,” Nikolai says innocently. 
“We were just talking,” you say. “You know, it has been years.”
“You were,” he agrees. “But our friend here was very interested in trying to be more. Couldn’t you tell?”
You laugh and you place your hand on his chest. “Nikolai Lantsov, are you jealous?”
“He was talking about his family’s vineyard.” He smiles back at you in turn. He can’t help the bit of bravado that trickles in. “For me to be jealous, I’d have to think he had a chance.”
“Saints, you are!” you exclaim. You stop, halting him in turn, and you grin at him with a twinkle in your eye. Again, he smiles subconsciously just at the sight of it. “Nikolai, I cannot believe you!” 
“How?” he asks, cocking his head boyishly. “Have you caught a glimpse of yourself tonight?”
“I’ve looked at myself in the reflection of every glass,” you say dryly. “After all the time spent in sea-faring clothes, it’s very strange to be back in gowns.”
“Then you should know how absolutely stunning you are,” he says. “Breathtaking, showstopping, the very image of perfection…” Nikolai runs his finger over the embroidery on one of your off-the-shoulder sleeves. The rest of his hand lingers on your bare skin, and he longs to remove the barrier his gloves have created. 
“And yet it still doesn’t beat how you look in a privateer’s garb,” Nikolai says. 
He places his hand over yours and brings it up from his chest. He entangles your fingers and uses the grasp to pull you even closer to him, your chests nearly touching. The warmth of your body tempts him to go even further, but he holds back. 
“Really?” you ask. “This gown cost more vlachkas than anyone deserves, took the labor of a small army to create, and weighs as much as you do, and you like me more in that dingy jacket with pants that smell like gunpowder?” 
“Oh, yes,” Nikolai nods. “They don’t just smell like gunpowder—they make your rear look very appealing.” 
You laugh louder than you should and it draws eyes in your direction. You don’t pay them any mind, gaze still locked on Nikolai, as you hit him on the chest. 
“You still have the mind of a sailor, I see,” you drawl. “But I must admit I also miss it. The simplicity, if anything.” 
“Just because I didn’t keep a king’s mantle on deck doesn’t mean I wasn’t outfitted in the same gaudy way,” Nikolai says. “A Lantsov must always be prepared, you know.” 
“Well, I used to hate that blue frock of yours, especially when we first reunited,” you muse. You extract your hand and trail your fingers down his current coat—he shivers at your touch even through the material. “Now I think I prefer it over anything else in your wardrobe.”
He frowns. “You hated my coat?” 
“I hated a lot of things at the time,” you say wryly. Your hand finds its way back to his and you intertwine them together again. “Besides, it’s grown on me.” 
Nikolai chuckles, and the two of you fall silent when you shift and rest your head on his shoulder. You’ve managed to find your way to the edge of the ballroom, and it gives you a little more privacy. You stand together, watching as everyone mingles, half bearing a fake smile and the other half lying through their teeth. He didn’t think the Ravkan court would like to think they had more in common with his lying, cheating, stealing crew than they thought.  
“So,” Nikolai says, finally breaking the silence, “is being back everything you’ve imagined?”
You huff. “Hardly. Everything is so… restrained.” 
He hums in acknowledgement. “Speaking of restrained, have your parents gotten over their fit yet?” 
Your laugh is sharper this time. “Once again, hardly. You’d think I murdered the queen the way they’re treating me.” 
Nikolai expected that, to be honest. He insisted on being by your side in the initial reunion and they didn’t dare act out of turn in front of royalty, but you said the moment you returned to your palace apartment with them, they yelled at you loud enough to be heard in Novyi Zem. 
“They should be thankful,” Nikolai scoffs. “It’s like they don’t even care what nearly happened to you because of their haste to marry you off.” 
“I don’t even like to think about it,” you murmur. He feels you shiver and he pulls you even closer to him. “But I was right—they want me to be who I was before I left. They’re even convinced that they can get me to agree to the marriage they’ve got planned.” 
His frown deepens. “Saints, must I sweep you off your feet in front of all of Ravka to get everyone to realize you’re a taken woman? I am a very good shot, but I’ve only got so many bullets—”
“Nikolai,” you interrupt with a laugh, raising your head to look him in the eye. He’s glad to see the lightness has returned. Your near fate isn’t a subject either of you like to talk about. “You don’t need to worry, and you certainly don’t need to worry about that.” You cup his cheek with your hand and he leans into your touch. “If one thing has stayed the same through all of this, it’s that you’re the only one out there for me. After all the pomp and circumstance you have to perform with Alina is over, you can tell them yourself.” 
“Good,” Nikolai says with a slight smile. “Because I don’t think I can stand to hear Aslanov talk about the grapes his family’s been growing for another second.” 
You laugh again, and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. Nikolai beats you to it as he covers your hand with his own, using his other to draw you even closer. Practically every part of you is touching as he kisses you like a starving man, with your lips against his and your perfume invading his senses and your soft moan that’s muffled against his mouth. After a night spent away from your side and having to watch other men compete fruitlessly for your affections, he might as well be. 
When you finally pull away, lipstick a mess and pupils dilated and expression nothing less than adoration, it takes everything Nikolai has in him not to take your face in his hands and do it all over again. He wants to mess up your hair, your makeup, kiss your lips until they’re swollen and ravish, worship your body until you can think of nothing but him, say nothing but his name. 
“Nikolai,” you gasp, interrupting his sinful thoughts, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?” 
Whatever restraint he previously had dissolves with your words as he kisses you again, harder this time. You’re water when he’s dying, a lifeboat when he’s drowning, the very air he needs to breathe. Everything has come to a head after such a boring, strength-testing night, and all Nikolai wants is you. 
He brings you even closer with the arm he has around your waist, already starting to pull you along as he heads towards the doorways. He’s sure to stick to the walls, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary when even the flushed warmth of your heated skin through his jacket is enough to drive him crazy. 
Nikolai doesn’t know how he ever spent seven years away from you. He could barely handle half a ball. 
“More than anything,” he breathes. 
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the-heliophile · 1 day ago
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SAVE YOUR TEARS - VI
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FROM FOURMI 🐜💌 This is my first time ever writing fanfiction and English isn't my first language so please don't go too hard on me! OMG THANK YOU FOR THE 24 NOTES 🫶🏻
song. save your tears, the weeknd
pairing. emo!Vi x reader (post Caitlyn)
content. angst, pining?, longing, Vi fumbled you
word count. around 1K
“I saw you dancing in a crowded room,
You look so happy when I'm not with you”
Vi was in the club, celebrating another victory in the pit by getting shitfaced with Loris, using whatever earnings she had gotten to buy them both drink after drink. The swirling colors of the lights were all blurry by now, her vision impaired by the several glasses of alcohol in her system, the burning in her throat a small distraction from her thoughts of you. She looks around the bar, barely able to make out people's faces when her chalcedony eyes land on a familiar figure dancing with a woman. Vi squints a bit, trying her hardest to make out the expressions of the woman making her heart beat faster and she manages to make out a smile, your smile, your face contorted in an expression of pure mirth while your company flirts with you. 
“But then you saw me, caught you by surprise,
A single teardrop falling from your eye”
You were enjoying the attention your date was giving you, not hesitating for a second before flirting back until the gnawing feeling of eyes on you pushed you to look around the crowded club, your gaze landing right on Vi. The sight of her is enough to bring back the painful feeling of your heart clenching to the surface, your throat suddenly closing while your eyes get watery and you quickly look away. You pretend not to have noticed her, wiping a fallen tear from your face as fast as you can, the sight not lost on your ex, if you could call her that. 
“I made you think that I would always stay,
I said some things that I should never say”
The truth was, you had been foolish to believe she would ever reciprocate your feelings. It seemed as if everything you did for her did not matter, as if her heart would forever belong to Caitlyn. By the time you had met Vi they had already parted ways, you picked her up after she passed out from celebrating, lying unceremoniously on the stairs leading to her rundown studio. You had offered her a hand, lent her your ear to vent in and your shoulder to cry on and yet she had never looked at you as more than a friend. Until one day, during one of her drunk ramblings she uttered the forbidden words, slurred but unmistakable. “I really love you, you know ? You mean a lot to me..” You had been foolish to believe her, to take this confession as more than drunk words she would forget the next morning.
“Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine,
And now you won't love me for a second time”
You ended up making the mistake that cost you your friendship with Vi, you confessed. A month ago, at her studio after helping her lay down, you brought her a glass of water and cooked her a warm meal to comfort her before asking her to have a heartfelt conversation. You poured your whole heart to her, explained the depth of your feelings and how you would even be willing to wait for her, however long was needed for her to make her choice. You handed her your heart on a silver platter just to be met with a scoff and a scowl, her words piercing right through the organ “Don't try to make it more than it is, we're friends and that's all we'll ever be.” That night you left her apartment without ever looking back, that night you had realized that no matter what you did you could never compare to Caitlyn, she'll always be there in the back of Vi’s mind.
“I don't know why I run away,
I make you cry when I run away”
Seeing you again, looking so beautiful and happy made her clench, a familiar feeling setting in, longing. She had missed you, spent countless nights making up apologies in her head, kept looking for you every time she woke up hungover. She regretted her words more than anything, wishing she could take them back and welcome you into her heart. It did not take her long after your departure for the realization to hit her, that night despite how drunk she had been, she had never felt so sober. She had lost you, she was blind to your affection because she was too busy pursuing memories of someone who looked down on her and kicked her out of her life like she was nothing more than a dirty rag. She misses the high of being with Caitlyn yes, but you provided her with a sense of serenity, gave her a sense of safety and sanity in her otherwise trouble filled life. She did not mean to be that harsh, never wanted to outright reject you like that, with a shaky voice she ordered another drink, downing it in one go before standing up from the stool she had been sitting in to stare at you. 
“Girl, take me back 'cause I wanna stay”
Vi stumbles slightly on her way to you, grabbing your arm before pulling you away from your date without even asking and bringing you to a more secluded place. “Sweetheart, I..I missed you so much..” She searches your eyes, looking for any hint of affection, a glimmer of love or even just a sparkle of happiness at seeing her but her search is met with nothing if not for your unimpressed gaze. “Do you ? Or do you just miss everything I did for you ?” Vi stared at you, incredulous for a second before uttering that she missed you, as a person, as a friend and a companion. She felt stuck, like she was facing a wall, her words seemingly doing nothing to affect you but the memory of you wiping your tears away a few minutes earlier is still etched in her mind. She waits for a few moments, watching you take a deep breath before you chide with a frown “Get yourself in check Vi, I was foolish to think we would even work, I could not be with someone who comes home drunk every time and spends her time fighting for a few coins a night just to spend them all on booze. I want something real Vi, and you'll never be able to provide me with that, I've made peace with it and so should you.” She feels her heart breaking at your words, and she holds her tongue, fighting the urge to argue with you as she reluctantly lets go of your arms. With a shaky breath, she nods, admitting to the truthfulness of your words “You're right, I'd just pull you down with me eh ?” She gives you a half-assed smirk, her tone a lot sadder than she had expected before she resigns herself to her fate and walks away from you, thankful for the dark lighting of the club concealing the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. 
“I realize that I'm much too late
And you deserve someone better”
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frutigerfischl · 2 days ago
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what about a jinx x reader where the reader kinda has a joker from the DC universe attitude. :)
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⌗ TITLE┆BITCHES LOVE ME ┆song: bitches ★ ₊ ˚⟡
⌗ TAGS┆gn!reader, joker!reader, jinx/reader, hcs ★ ₊ ˚⟡
⌗ NOTE┆shorter than my usual hcs so sorry about that, you didn't specify if you wanted hcs or a oneshot so I did hcs, my friend helped me write this because I had writers block ★ ₊ ˚⟡
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⊹₊⟡⋆ DYNAMIC
Jinx loves that you’re just as unpredictable as she is. You’re the only one who can keep up with her wild mood swings, her constant need for stimulation. Some days, you’re the instigator, other days, you’re the calm in her storm, your dark humor grounding her when her mind spirals.
You both feed off each other’s energy, and while it’s exhilarating, it’s also dangerous. There are nights when the mayhem gets too big, too loud, and you’re left sitting in the wreckage together, your laughter echoing hollowly.
She’s the only one who gets your jokes—even the really twisted ones—and you’re the only one who can make her laugh until tears stream down her face.
⊹₊⟡⋆ PROTECTIVENESS
Jinx might seem carefree, but when it comes to you, she’s hyper-aware of every potential threat. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, she’s got her finger on the trigger, ready to blow them away.
You find it hilarious, of course, playing up the drama just to watch her fume. “Oh no, Jinx, they might have insulted my hat. Guess I’ll have to fight them at dawn!” She groans, but you catch the flicker of relief in her eyes when you dismiss the situation with a wave of your hand.
She loves that you can hold your own, though. You’re not afraid to throw yourself into danger, laughing all the while. It terrifies her, but it also makes her heart race in a way she can’t explain.
⊹₊⟡⋆ LOVE
Romance, for the two of you, is as unconventional as everything else. Grand gestures are your specialty: a trail of fireworks leading her to a rooftop picnic, a glitter bomb “present” with a heartfelt message scrawled inside, or a shared moment of laughter as you dangle off a building together after a particularly daring escape.
Jinx’s affection is more physical—wrapping herself around you like a vine, draping herself across your lap, or tangling her fingers in your hair while you ramble about your latest idea for chaos.
She makes you gadgets: a jack-in-the-box grenade with your favorite color scheme, a pair of goggles with lenses shaped like hearts. She doesn’t say much when she hands them to you, but the way her fingers linger on yours speaks volumes.
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lucycore · 3 days ago
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Let me make it up to u - Fred weasley
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₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊ ˚ ☁️💌☁️ ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊
Kinda enjoying to write fluff one shots these days..weird..
Summary: You catch Fred talking to Angelina in a place not visited often so it brings misunderstanding with it.
☁️ Fluff one shot ☁️
˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.💌༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.💌༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.💌༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.💌⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.💌༘
Fred and you were dating for 10 months so almost a year. Since the Yule ball you became more in love with each other.
After class you were making your way up to the tower to enjoy the nice view and some peace. It was rare that people went up there but you needed that and it was your favorite spot to hang around even with Fred.
Finally up there you raised your head just to see Fred talking to Angelina. Your heart stopped. You almost couldn't believe that it's real life.
You stood there frozen for almost two minutes. They didn't notice you after you grabbed onto the railing of the stairs, feeling like you gonna pass out in a second.
They gave you a shocked look. You were good at holding your tears back while giving Fred an look of absolute desperation and devastation.
"Y/n.." Fred whispered before you turned around, running down the stairs with tears escaping your eyes.
He immediately left Angelina to run after you.
'Y/n wait!' He called after you but you ignored him. You just wanted to be alone, not wanting to see him.
'It's not what you think it is!' He continued trying.
You ran out of the castle getting few looks even from Harry and his friends.
'Oh no..That smells like trouble..' Hermione said to the round.
You hid behind a big stone and sinked to the ground, just crying while the wind was blowing through your hair.
Fred was quick enough to see where you hid and went to you without hesitation kneeling in front of you.
'Y/n please let me explain..' He placed his hand on yours which was wrapped around your knees.
You pushed his hand away and looked at him with red, tears filled eyes.
'There's nothing to explain, Fred..I saw you with her alone away from others..' You stood up ready to leave but Fred grabbed your arm, moving his hands to your shoulders.
'We were just talking...About you actually.." He said calmly looking into your eyes. He clearly felt guilty, continuing: 'I thought talking face to face in a place filled with people would bring false suspicion..Clearly I was wrong and I'm so sorry if it seemed like I betrayed you..You know I would never, my love..' He placed his two fingers under your chin, stroking your cheek with his thumb, moving your chin up to let you see his soft smile.
'I wish I could trust you but..' a tear ran down your cheek.
His smile disappeared immediately and turned to a worried look.
'But I don't know if I can trust you..It seemed-' Fred cut you off. 'I know it looked like I was betraying you but I swear that's not the case..'
He took a few steps closer to you.
'What were you discussing about me then and what would she know? We aren't even friends..'
You looked up at him, still resisting his touch so he gave you some space and put his hands into his pockets.
'Well..You know I never had a girlfriend nor were interested in any girl but I still wanted to spend a nice day with you..take you on a date so..' He struggled a little, feeling slightly embarrassed about it but then looked back at you.
'So I asked her what girls like to do on a date and she gave me some ideas..We decided on one..Well I won't tell you cuz I want it to be a surprise but you should know that I'd never betray you..I can consider myself the luckiest guy on this planet..I wouldn't ruin it like that.'
Fred carefully took your hand and gave it a kiss like a gentleman.
You finally stopped crying but Fred reached up to wipe your from tears wet cheeks.
'I'm really sorry, baby..Can you please forgive me?' He asked.
You nodded. 'Yes I can..'
He gave you a smile and pulled you into a kiss. The both of you closed your eyes, enjoying your lips on another.
You had your hands placed on his chest while he had his on your waist. After kissing he pulled you into a hug.
'Let me make it up to you..Let's go on a date tomorrow by sunset.' He suggested.
'Sure let's do this.' You smiled while looking up at him. All happy and giggly again.
'Love to see you smiling again.' He smiled and the two of you returned to the castle.
The next day in the evening, Fred lead you hand in hand to the place next to a big tree, where the two of you could have some privacy.
You didn't know what he had planned until you saw everything prepared.
The date idea from Angelina was a picnic. One of the most romantic date ideas. You loved it. You couldn't stop smiling while holding onto his hand.
Next to the food on the blanket laid a bouquet of your favorite flowers. It was absolutely beautiful and you immediately threw yourself around his neck hugging him. He loved seeing you this happy and it was a great apology for what happened yesterday.
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kimingyuslover · 2 days ago
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Love me not
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Love isn't too late for anyone, right? Word count : 2,324 words Pairing : kim mingyu x reader Genre : angst, love triangle, bestf to (?) Warnings : uhh, as always, tears (duh), mingyu is straight-up asshole, reader is a girlboss and also a resident doctor, wonwoo's a cardiothoracic surgeon, mingyu's job is not specified, mentions of drink, kind of minimal dialogue but at the same time it's not & like 1 (one) curse word, lmk if i miss any! ★ i'm in my active era, with nothing to do in my life so I just decided to write this in like, what, total 8 hours? it’s just a random thought that caught up in my mind for dayssss. need to repost this (cry)
☆ check out my other works > main masterlist
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Mingyu's smile flattered when he read the invitation envelope he received this morning. There, he found a picture of you with another man— the man he saw at the coffee shop.
He could feel the way his heart clenched, and he sensed a twinge of jealousy in his heart.
Perhaps it's his fault, not caring about you enough that makes you think that you can't handle him anymore.
Or the way he would cancel your meetings abruptly because he just got a call from Jira where he rushes to everywhere she goes without asking any questions. Leaving you hanging alone in the restaurant that you both had decided to have dinner together.
The way he always mentions her names in every conversation, bringing her like she's the goddess god sent from the sky himself.
God, he can even imagine the way your smile slightly dropped and the disappointment evident on your face when he brought up her name that he had once not noticed, not caring about what you had said earlier.
Despite that, you stay by his side, offering your shoulder everytime he feels sad because of her, assuring him that he’s enough.
Mingyu remembers the day when everything started to shift.
You're not as welcome to him as before. Always avoid meeting him in person, and you are always busy.
He thinks it's normal at first, you're a resident after all, of course you're going to get busy someday that you can't even spare a glance or reply to his texts.
Meanwhile you, on the other hand, think that it's the best for you. Well, it is.
You're willing to step-out from the “more than friends but not in a relationship” situation with him, your heart also aches really great while you have to stay calm for him when he's telling his story, with her in it.
So after a while, you decided that you had enough of his & Jira's story, and you need to move on.So you do what you have to do earlier this time, you avoid him, busying yourself with patience, and always looking for surgery that needs an assistant, minimising your interaction with him.It's not that hard, actually. You're literally a cardiac resident. You will always get busy.
There you met who you called now– the love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo. He’s the main doctor for organ transplant operation, and you're the assistant.
After the operation was successful, he treated you to a coffee shop down the road and both of you had fun, talking about patience cases that you have, and even some stories on the ER where you are located right now.
“So, any interest in a relationship, or you're just single?” He asks while sipping his cup of ice americano– he claims that's what keeps him awake in every before or after a big operation.
You think for a few seconds, this is the first time when you feel like yourself again and have people asking about you, not any other person.
Feeling like you zoned out, he calls your name again, in which you respond with a shy smile on your face, and you apologise for spacing out.
You open your mouth to speak again, “No, I don't have any interest in a relationship for now, I want to focus on being a doctor first, like you!” you said with a light-hearted laugh. He did the same.
Then someone opens the coffee shop door, making the bell rings, your eyes trained to the glass door, you freeze when you see Mingyu, in all his glory.
He seems to notice you too, but when he looks in your direction, you already turn your eyes towards the doctor in front of you. Yes, he searched for you in the ER, but the receptionist said that you're currently in a cafe with a doctor.
After placing his order, he sat next to the counter, waiting for his name to be called by the barista.
He noticed the way you laugh so freely, like the burden on your shoulder just lift up when you are with that man.
He frowns, you never be as free as you are right now when you're with him, you always keep your distance, and he's your best friend! That doctor is just someone you met along the way.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“What do you want, Mingyu?” That's it, no more ‘gyu’ and the tone of your voice is cold, stabbing him in the heart.
He took a long breath, “What's wrong with us? You never seem to notice me anymore. Hundreds of my messages go unread, and you never gave me a check”
His words really make you wanna laugh. What's wrong with you both? You don't know, but one thing for sure, he needs you to tell the story about him and his beloved to you, crying his heart out and then leaving like nothing's going on between you.
You bite your bottom lip. Before allowing yourself to let out a chuckle, Mingyu cuts you off.
“Why are you laughing? It’s not a time for that” You seriously want to punch the guy in front of you, “You not here anymore when i needed you the most, Jira and i–”
That's where you draw the line, you put your “I don't care, Mingyu. Actually, fuck you kim mingyu” His breath hitched when you said that, hands growing cold.
“You are always nagging this and that about you and Jira, I don't care about her, I only care about you, all my whole life I only cared about you” Your finger pointed at him accusingly.
You stop yourself for a second, trying to catch your breath, you see Mingyu opening his mouth, wanting to speak but you cut him off.
“No, you don't get to say anything about this. All i ever do is just a backburner, the person who you came when you have any problems and dump all your problems with me, and then when you feel better you always go to her even you knew that she would make the same mistake over and over again and you will come running to me with your tears stricken face”
“You promise to listen to me too, I've had enough of your drama, I've talked to you before you even brought her up, and somehow you still did even if it's not relevant. I'm sacrificing my own happiness for you, Jira had everything i've ever wanted and that is you”
You snatched your bag from the seat beside you, pulled out a 50 dollar bill, put it on the table and you stormed off.
Mingyu was just sitting there, and that's when he felt it come back. The ache in his heart, he feels his heart clenched in the worst way possible.
Only you can make him feel like this, not even Jira can do this to him. Hearing the words fall off from your mouth is hurting him, and he doesn't know why.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. It's been approximately 7 months since the last time Mingyu saw you and heard from you.
You moved out from your old apartment the next day, making him ponder since when you start to pack your things, have you been planning this all the months back?
In the first month, he felt so lonely without your presence, no one sent him a ‘good morning’ ‘evening’ and ‘night’ text, his apartment also felt cold without you.
You used to come here often on saturday and sunday night, warming up the apartment with movies ready on your disk.
Now, his weekend nights feel empty, no one would play and watch his favorite movie with him.
And in the third month he realised when he saw you again, this time with Wonwoo beside you, talking and laughing together. He felt a throbbing pain in his heart when he saw that scenery.
oh.
oh.
All the times he felt in your presence, is the sign that he likes you or worse yet— loves you.
He realised he never felt anything towards Jira, that it's just a passing crush to keep his true deep feeling. He has liked you since the day you turned 14, the way your eyes light up when your family and him decide to surprise you in your sleep.
The memory just made his wound that he considered still fresh getting sprinkled by a handful pinch of salt.
It burns him alive and he loses all the respect he has for himself.
He thinks he has moved on, the old trick under the sleeves, getting over someone by getting under someone.And finally, it's now been a year and a half since he last heard from you.
Mingyu walks to his apartment with groceries on both of his hands, and then when he gets inside, he puts the things on his kitchen counter and goes to the bedroom to change his outerwear.
He's not in the mood to do anything today, so he took his laptop to watch some movies, but then an email caught his attention, it's from you.
So he opens it, and finds an envelope there.
Mingyu read the body of the email, because a word cought on his eyes.
hi, sorry. I know we have been in no contact for a year and a half, but I want to invite you, we once have something, don't we? :) Love is in the air.docx
He lets out a shaky breath, scared if he opens the document then his heart would shatter to the ground beneath his feet.Oh well, he opens it with hesitation on his face and heart. He takes a deep breath before finally opening the invitation.
The document has three pictures of you with him, the doctor he hates so much with all of his heart despite there's no interaction between them.
It’s a wedding card.
There's the date and time of your wedding ceremony and the reception.
He feels his tears on the edge of his eyes, threatening to fall right now and then, he already has his heart shattered the day you leave and now he feels another throbbing pain with the fact that you will never be his.
[⋆✴︎˚。⋆]
“Don't marry him” You feel like the time has just stopped right now.
Seeing Mingyu all dressed up in your wedding was definitely on your bingo list— well, last year. but seeing him now? It's just like the burden you had on your shoulder a year ago came back to you.
You used to imagine yourself going through a wedding ceremony with you as the bride and him as the groom.
You're very much confused by his behavior, so you open your mouth, though you didn't say anything because you’re speechless.
Mingyu repeats the words he just said the second time to you, looking at you with hope in his eyes.
“Why?” you asked, you want to add something after that but you halt your actions, waiting for him to answer you.
Mingyu started at the ground for a moment, before looking at you, yet again, “Why? You know why”
You snap, saying no to him only for it to be denied by him, making you say no to him again.
“What?” Then he asked, after pinning him for years, hearing him say that makes your blood boil.
You want to slap Mingyu, but you compose yourself, not wanting to make your special day be ruined by a man that doesn't know and seems like he's not willing to know about your feelings even when you gave him a clear sign.
“No, no Mingyu– You're being mean. stop it.” he can hear the finality of your words, but he didn't want to stop there, “How am i being mean?” there's a stern expression on his face.
“I have been second to Jira my whole life, in everything and that including you. I'm not going to be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her”
“I won't do it, because i've been wasting my entire life loving you but all you see is just Jira, never once i crossed your mind, and you don't have the right to stop me from marrying the man i love” You don't even want to cry anymore, tears for him is already dry long time ago.
Mingyu tries to hold your hand, wanting to confess his feelings, but instead he lets out a question and the second he finishes his sentence he regrets it, “Isn't I the man you love?” his voice is silent, not quite above a whisper.
“Don’t make me laugh Kim Mingyu, you get rid off me as soon as you and Jira reconcile, even both of you were not in a relationship, you run into me when Jira is busy and then the next day you gone for a week and the cycle keep going leaving me stressing over my own feeling”
Before he could say anything, you told him to get out of the room, but you know he's a rock headed person, so you already told the groomsman to wait outside the door after he gets in.
Mingyu heard the door open and he knew it's time for him to get the fuck out and wait for your ceremony, he said something before he leaves, “i love you, i'm sorry” and so he get his last words to you.
For the rest of his life, Mingyu can only hear your voice from a distance, the way Wonwoo kisses you is heart wrenching to the guts of his body.
Now he can only see you again when suddenly bumps into you, or when he goes to your favorite places and on his screen.
And even then, you're not alone, you will be with your new husband that you're marrying today, there's no chance for him to be in your picture.
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sugarcubeindulgent · 23 hours ago
Note
can you do pete's first kiss? (fem reader pls)
head over heels | pete dinunzio x f!reader
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synopsis. finding out something interesting about your boyfriend pushes you to do something you've been wanting to.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. fluff. established relationship. suggestive content. swearing. insecurities? maybe?.
a/n: thank you for the request anon! had so much fun writing this!!
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“Oh! Babe what the fuck! Take off your shoes.”,you whine softly, sitting down on the edge of your bed after turning on your lamp on your nightstand. Sleepy and groggy still, you rub your eyes in a tired way with a big frown at Pete’s sneakers covered in mud pressing into the soft carpet of your bedroom. Too tired to bitch and moan past the initial remark, and about his slightly wet state from the drizzle outside, you yawn and look at him holding his jacket over something lumpy. “It’s almost one a.m, Pete, if my dad catches you here he’s going to throw you off the roof.”,you say, speaking softly and quietly.
Pete shakes his head, grinning at you after kicking off his boots behind him and walking over. “I come bearing gifts.” And you look up at him a bit groggy as he tugs out two Burger King bags from within his jacket. Your eyebrows furrow and you blink away the sleepiness, eventually rubbing the heaviness out of your eyelids. A soft laugh leaves your lips behind your hand when you realize he really is holding Burger King bags. Pete shrugs and he kicks your ankle while walking over to the foot of your bed. “C’mon, wanted to be with you tonight.”
“You saw me literally five hours ago.”,you remark but you’re getting up with a fuzzy and warm feeling in your heart and walking over to join Pete.
His acne-riddled face grows a bit red, you pluck up a towel in passing and sit down beside him as he shrugs off his sweater and sets it aside. “You complain when I’m with the guys too much and you complain when I wanna be with you – pick.”,he grumbles without any real malice. Rolling your eyes, you smack him upside the head, making him wince before you begin to dry off his dark hair while he turns your television on. That red snapback sits beside you as you dry him off.
Eventually you set the towel aside on the carpet and you yawn, some sleepiness lingering as you turn to the bags he tears open to allow your combos to be laid out on the brown paper bags. “How was the campaign with your friends?”,you ask, not ever really understanding what Pete is talking about with his geeky crap but you try. Pete’s silent for a moment focusing on the crowns in a way that makes you smile and feel butterflies in your stomach.
“It was alright. I died four fuckin’ times but the other guys were worse off.”,he laughs quietly, shaking his head. Then he looks at you and he grins, setting the crown on your head. “There we go. How was the family dinner? Your ma and pa still ridin’ your ass?”
The subject of the family dinner and your mom make you sigh in annoyance, grabbing the other crown you turn away from Pete to face the television while you put the golden cardboard crown together. But in that anger and irritation there’s some guilt. “Yeah. My dad’s at least blunt about…his feelings about everything but my mom was doing that sneaky, snide thing she does.” Pete feeds you a fry when you jerk your chin to your food. Chewing on it, your guilt worsens and you shake your head. “I wish they were more like your parents about…us.”
When your eyes meet Pete’s dark ones, you set the crown on his head and he expels a sigh. You can see some of the hurt in his face, knowing just how much your entire family seems to hate him and disapprove of your relationship. But he tries to lighten the mood like usual, smiling at you and putting up his hands once the crown is settled. “You kidding? My parents were startin’ to think I was a gay at this point. You could be some junkie hooker and they’d be overjoyed you’re a woman.” You smile in amusement and he rolls his eyes with a wave of his hand. “Some well-adjusted valedictorian, you were there when my ma started crying.”
You laugh into your hand to muffle the noise, shoving his shoulder. “Oh stop, I felt so bad. Thank God your dad reassured me. Not like you were any help.”,you scoff while turning to look at the horror channel. Grabbing your burger, you shake your head and Pete snickers.
“What? You’re probably the only girlfriend I’ll ever have – tellin’ you she was havin’ a stroke was funny.” He snickers again when you flick a fry at him. “We ain’t got no drinks because they fell when I was climbing up to your window, by the way.”,he says.
Rolling your eyes in a lighthearted way, you don’t pull your eyes from the television. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Then you both start to eat the meal in silence, watching the channel playing an original Frankenstein re-run.
It’s half-way through your meals when Pete hums in a realization of something. “Oh shit!”,he swears, making sure to not shout. You nearly jump in surprise, his little “outburst” coming during a silent part of the movie. Frowning at Pete, you set down your burger and wipe your mouth. “I forgot I got somethin’ for you. Hold on.” He digs in his front pockets before finding his wallet in his back pocket attached to his chain. Curiosity absorbs you, watching him with a gentle tilt of your head.
Then you narrow your eyes. “Pete, if it's a dental dam, I’ll call for my dad.”
Pete laughs, he shakes his head while digging through his wallet of various cards and coupons. “Oh that was one time, lighten up.” You roll your eyes again. But when he tugs out something with a triumphant noise, you notice a small paper slip out of his wallet and slide on the carpet to your socked foot. Before you can look at it, he’s holding out a sticker roughly the side of your inner palm. “Look. Finally fuckin’ got ‘er.”
And you smile big when you notice it’s a sticker from these blind pulls he does for one of his favorite games. You told him your favorite character, some badass woman with the most ridiculous uniform ever but she’s the coolest in your eyes. And you smile big looking down at the sticker. You look at Pete and he’s smiling a bit in anticipation, with an annoyed whine, you lean forward and hug him tightly. “Thanks, babe. I love it.”
Immediately melting into you, Pete inhales at your neck as he always does when he hugs you. His arms are tight around your waist before he shakes his head. “Course.” When you pull away, you smile down at the sticker as he shuts his wallet. Remembering the little paper, you look down and pick it up while setting the sticker on your bed.
“Oh wait something–”
Your words stop when you look down. It’s a small I.D sized printed photo, color. And it's you. Some photo off of your MySpace profile. Pete quickly snatches it from your hand and he forces a light laugh. “Shit, sorry.”,he apologizes, you watch him quickly shove it into his wallet. Your eyebrows furrow and you frown, but your heart is beating quicker and your stomach is surrounded by butterflies.
“You keep a picture of me in your wallet?”,you ask softly, leaning closer to him.
Dark eyes dart around as he faces down at his wallet, then he looks at you and looks away quickly. His face is blooming redder as he swallows hard. “Uh yeah, I do.” Then he shakes his head and forces another laugh. “Well I–y’know sometimes when you’re all busy I just – like lookin’ at it. Plus I gotta have somethin’ to prove you’re real to the guys at Joe’s.” He’s talking a bit quickly. Absorbing his words, your eyes flicker down to his lips a bit redder than usual with his constant biting of them.
You gently cup his cheek and pull his face to yours, his eyes widen and lips part when you lean in. But before you can kiss him for the first time in your relationship, he moves his head and he seems to almost cringe. You blink and you hesitate. “Uhm…”,you clear your throat,”I’m sorry do you not wa–”
“No, no! I’ve never–”,he interrupts you quickly, dark eyes looking at you. He’s cringing, you can see it in his tense face and body. Your eyes squint in confusion before they widen in realization. “I-I know it’s fuckin’ weird but I–don’t wanna fuck it up. Porn, nudie mags, giving you condoms as jokes and shit it’s all different than–”
“Pete.”,you interrupt him this time. He shuts up and immediately looks at you. You smile gently and you shrug gently. “Let me kiss you, yeah?” Pete blinks and he gets a stupid smile on his face before he nods.
When you lean in, your mouth presses to Pete’s. You feel him tense up like the first time you had ever hugged him. But just like then, he relaxes and his hands find your waist as you sit up on your knees. Leaning in to kiss him a bit more confidently, he kisses you the same. Pete smells like his cheap cologne and shitty aftershave, scents you’ve come to want smothered all over your bedding and everything you wear. His hands are clammy on your exposed hips in your sleep-shirt and too-big sweats. But you still want him.
Pete begins to tremble when your tongue passes his lower lip. He opens his mouth tentatively in the kissing and his tongue peeks out to meet your own. The moment your tongues touch, slipping along one another, he groans and you smile into the kiss that’s become a bit of a slow makeout. But your lungs begin to burn and you pull away despite Pete’s tightening grip on your hips. Sitting on your legs, you look at Pete’s face bathed and shadowed in the glow of the television. He’s smiling like an idiot, practical swirls in his eyes.
“Fuck.”,he breathes, panting softly. You laugh a bit and lick your lips, then he nods and he tilts his head. “Did'you...like it?”
Grinning, you nod your head eagerly and you grab him by the shirt, pulling him down on top of you and connecting your mouths again.
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dfortrafalgar · 3 days ago
Text
Rectify- Part 2
Law x Fem Reader
There's no shame in using a safety net to catch you when you're falling.
Warnings: direct mentions of past domestic violence, hurt/comfort, unspoken romance, fluffy ending
A/N: this is a sequel to my request fic 'Rectify'! I typed this on a whim after re-reading my own work, and after having a few really rough days recently, it was pretty cathartic to hammer this out. It's not my best fic recently, but sometimes you just need something simple.
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There was a handwritten note taped to the door of your apartment.
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Your feet stayed planted in front of your door as your eyes glazed over the sloppy writing over and over again.  You couldn’t even bite the inside of your cheek as a nervous tic, the harsh bruise still covering your jaw causing aches and pains even two weeks later.  It was embarrassingly noticeable.  Your friends questioned it, your professors questioned it, passersby on campus gave you strange looks.  It was humiliating.
A victim of domestic abuse.  That’s what the school psychiatrist had told you.
Humiliating.
The note was snatched from your door, the tape on the back of the paper ripping off with an obnoxious tearing sound.
Right.  Law was still there.
Standing next to you, he crumpled the note with a firm scowl on his face, steely golden eyes seeming to flicker with a barely-subdued rage.  In the two weeks since the incident with Bellamy, he had barely left your side.  And you liked it better that way.
“Pussy,” the medical student swore under his breath, his gentle hand against the small of your back a harsh contrast to his words.  “Come on, let’s go inside.”
You silently nodded, blinking out of your paranoid daze and fumbling for your key in the pocket of your coat, undoing the lock and pushing the heavy door open.  The apartment was still occupied by only you, with your roommate having gone home for winter break.  In her absence, however, Law took over.
It seemed the two of you had formed an unconventional routine, with Law making sure to keep tabs on your mouth injury every single evening.  For the first four days, he continued to supply you with an antibiotic rinse for your tongue, going out of his way to cook bland and soft foods for you to easily ingest without irritating your injury.  He masterfully reduced the inflammation of your bruise and even helped you apply concealer for the first few days before you grew exhausted of the tedious ordeal (and the pain of your beauty blender being blotted over your tender jaw).  He did all of this without question, without expecting any thanks or repayment, and you, likewise, didn’t comment.  You were afraid that if you did, the influx of tears behind your eyelids would finally spill out.
So instead of vocalizing your questions, your concerns, and the nagging confession in your mind, you insisted that Law sleep in your bed, under your sheets, with your legs tangled together and his calloused, tattooed hands planted safely on your back and waist.
“Hey.”
A quiet, firm voice saying your name shook you from your thoughts.  When had you been seated on your couch?
“What are you thinking about for dinner?”  Law was washing his hands in the kitchen, peering around the doorframe to where you sat.
You shrugged.  “I don’t think I’m too hungry.”
The faucet was turned off, the sound of the man drying his hands on a cloth towel following suit before he entered your living space, sitting next to you on the couch.  You wasted no time crawling into his lap, resting the uninjured side of your face across his legs.  His hands ghosted across your shoulder, and you couldn’t see the way his eyes softened with remorse.
“I still think you should go back to the school psych again,” Law mumbled, rubbing your skin through the fabric of your shirt.
“They won’t help me,” you replied, voice muffled thanks to your curled up position.  “She’s just gonna tell me to go somewhere different.”
“Maybe that’s what you should do,” he added.
Those same hot tears began to sting, slipping out of your eyes and pooling across the bridge of your nose.  “It’s fucking humiliating.  All of this.”  You balled your fist against your chest.  “I don’t even feel safe in my own apartment anymore.  Why did I let myself get involved with that crew?”
“You couldn’t have known,” Law added.  He lost count of the amount of times the two of you had this conversation in the past 14 days, but that didn’t matter to him.  He’d tell you as many times as you needed to hear it- none of what transpired was your fault.
“All he did was hit me once and yet I’m a mess because of it.”
Law’s jaw clenched.  “Doesn’t matter how many times.  He hurt you.”
“But–”
“No ‘buts’,” Law’s firm voice refuted, shutting down your protests.  “You were hurt, end of story.  You’re not accounting for the emotional abuse he put you through, the words and comments.”
“I hate that word,” you uttered.  “Abuse.  It’s sour.”
“It is.”
You rolled onto your back, gazing through your teary eyes at Law, who gazed down on you with nothing but patience and tenderness.
“Don’t you ever get sick of me acting like this?” you suddenly asked.
Law’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, his throat tightening with pity at how feeble your voice sounded.  “Never.”  He leaned over your form slightly, tracing the backs of his inked fingers over the unblemished side of your face.  “Have you ever felt sick of me when I have bad nights thinking about my dad?  Have you ever thought I was annoying when I’d come to you crying as a teenager?”
You frantically shook your head.  “Of course not.”
“Then you need to believe me when I say I’ll never feel like that with you, either.”  His words were level, soft yet firm, and you were left with no choice but to believe him.  “Doesn’t matter if he hit you once, twice, or not at all.  You were hurt by him regardless, and you deserve to be able to feel the emotions that come with that.  Because it was you who got hurt, no one else matters in this situation but you and your emotions.”
“I suppose so,” you said back meekly.
“And,” he began again.  “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help from a professional to guide you through this.  I could even join if you wanted me to.  Regardless, I think it would be good for you to talk to someone with more experience than me.”  A small smile crawled onto his lips.  “I’m really only good with physical illness.”
“Nah,” you replied, your own shaky grin appearing.  “You’re patching me up on the inside just fine.”
“You know… if it would help you feel safer…” he suddenly blurted, anxiously averting his eyes from your tender gaze.  “I wouldn’t be opposed to you lodging in my dorm until all of this blows over.  Or… longer than that, even.”
You felt your face warm up at his offer.  “You mean it?”
“He’s leaving notes on your door.  If I’m being honest, I’m too anxious to leave you here alone.”
Law had a justified point.
“I have a futon,” he added.
“I don’t want the futon,” you stated.
Law’s knuckles continued to stroke the side of your face, the softness of your cheeks feeling like the finest velvet over his rough skin.  “When the school psych opens again next semester, we’ll go and get you a referral.”
“And I can move my favorite pillows onto your bed,” you chirped with a grin, the weight of the situation finally lifting off of your shoulders, even just slightly.
“And I’ll start carrying around my nodachi on campus–”
“NO!  I don’t want you to get arrested!” you nearly shrieked, a full laugh erupting from your lungs at the thought of Law’s obnoxiously large sword that he purchased in high school for the hell of it.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to lay on the couch next to you.  “Just promise you won’t leave me alone…” you mumbled shyly, voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s the easiest promise you could ever have me make,” he replied, nuzzling his lips into your hair.
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jaggedamethyst · 15 hours ago
Text
circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part six)
tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au
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content: after a week of sessions with jayce, you finally have to take your quiz
i dont think there's any warnings here...sad ekko like the chat requested though!!!
notes: i regret nothing
word count: 2.6k
series master list
。·:*:·゚★,。·:*:·゚☆   。·:*:·゚★,。·:*:·゚☆
The start of class almost always was filled with you and Viktor talking. In fact, it was the way you first met—casually asking one another about the syllabus. There was a nostalgia whenever the two of you would meet before your scheduled start time. Viktor was truly a good friend, you’d always thought. You wouldn’t pass up your chats for anything. 
“Me and Jayce had a few sessions this week, I feel like I’m prepared for once.” You looked down at your planner as you spoke. 
Viktor dug in his bag, “I’m glad to hear that. It’s great to know that Jayce is a good tutor.” 
“He is,” you nodded, continuing your writing. 
A sound of your instructor coming in made you grab your laptop. On Fridays it went unspoken that the first task of the day was the weekly quiz. You shook off your hands, feeling a sudden nervousness. 
Viktor placed a hand on your shoulder, “You’ve got this.” He sent you a soft smile before turning to open his laptop—not at all phased by the quiz. 
“Not to change the subject, but,” you leaned over to Viktor, “How’s Sky?” 
You immediately noticed the blush prickle on his cheeks. “I think…we should focus on the task at hand.” 
A knowing smile found its way to you, “Send her my regards, then.” 
The both of you stifled a laugh, your whispers echoing over the quieting class. Soon, the only sound to be heard was that of paper being written on and calculators clacking. It comforted you to know that everyone seemed to take this seriously. In the sea of people, you thought, maybe there were others who also had a lot at stake. You let the thought carry you, almost sinking you into a warmth that made you feel surprisingly comfortable. 
Scrolling through the questions left you to picture your sessions, to imagine Jayce outlining the graph for you. The color coordinated arrows filled your mind, and the answers came flooding in. You had to be sure; you checked, double checked, and even triple checked for simple mistakes you’d made before. Before you knew it, you were submitting the quiz with a sharp breath in. 
You glanced over to Viktor who’d already finished. He looked at your screen expectantly, just as eager to see your result. With one click, the submission page loaded—with another your score appeared on the screen. 
“Oh my gosh?” You whispered quickly and looked to Viktor with wide eyes. 
“Does that say what I think it says?” 
“Viktor… I got an 87%.” 
“I can see that,” he mirrored you wide eyed expression but kept his tone low. “Well done.” 
“With the midterm in two weeks I really needed this.” You nodded to yourself, feeling the tears well in your eyes. As embarrassing as it might be, this was a reflection of your hard work and perseverance—you could do this. 
Viktor rubbed your now shaking arm encouragingly. “Good job.” 
You exhaled the weight of everything as you spoke, “Thank you.” 
With a quick flip of your hand, you pulled out your phone. You made sure to not make much noise, wiping the tears that threatened to fall from your lash line. Scrolling through your recent messages was much more conflicting than you’d imagined. The urge to press on Jayce’s name, to tell him immediately was immense. You let the thought come and go, deciding against bothering him with something so minuscule. Ekko, though, he’d understand. 
You grimaced at the last messages you sent to each other being so plain—empty, even, after what happened with Jayce. You didn’t intentionally push him away—there was just so much going on. 
hi
i miss you !!! 
btw i did good on my quiz…so you should come out with me to celebrate tonight…because im def celebrating 
please? 
You frowned at your phone. Enough time passed where you thought Ekko might be ignoring you. But you couldn’t pester him—that would be even worse than simply being left on seen. Deciding to let it go for now, you paid attention to the lecture, typing away notes that you would undoubtedly bring back to Jayce to decipher later. Just before you closed your laptop, a notification popped up on screen and illuminated the top corner. 
let me know where the celebration is you know i love a good party
As the first text from Ekko went away another popped up in its place. 
i missed you too
——————
For once your afternoon and evening weren’t spent in worry about the next big thing you had to do. Your quiz was done, you’d done a good job, and you still had time to prepare for the midterm. On top of this, you had the opportunity to reconcile with Ekko; you were truly grateful. 
Arriving at the bar, you were immediately bombarded with the sound of people talking and the overwhelming background music. Your eyes trailed the sea of people, searching for any familiar figures until you settled on two. Viktor and Ekko were sitting in the corner, tucked away in a spot they knew you’d like. It was slightly intimate and allowed you to actually talk—you appreciated the thought. 
You approached the table, waving at the pair. 
“Look who finally decided to show up.” Viktor joked, nudging Ekko.
They looked at each other, Ekko speaking up, “Hey, it takes time to look good, right?” 
“Absolutely,” you high fived Ekko as you slid in beside him. The booth was rounded, which you always liked. Instead of being forced to choose what side of a seated booth to be on, you could sit and see everyone equally. You’d mentioned that particularly annoying feeling before—and they remembered. “So is anyone gonna get the fries or should I?” 
“Already ordered,” Viktor said, “Ekko made sure to get those and your drink.” 
Ekko nodded, “Shirley Temple so you can be fake drunk like you do…for the vibes you know?” 
Just then, the ordered arrived. You exchanged looks with your friends, “I love you so much.” 
“And we love you,” Viktor spoke up. “But don’t be angry with me. I saw Sky walk in just a few minutes ago.” 
“In any other circumstance, I’d be a hater…but I know you like her so go ahead.” 
“You are an amazing friend.” He moved to stand, putting pressure on his cane. “I’ll be back, but you’re in good hands.” With that, he walked away and moved toward Sky on the opposite side of the bar. 
The sound of Ekko beside you broke your gaze, “Hi.” 
“Hi.” 
“Congrats on your quiz, knew you could do it.” 
You nodded, “Thank you.” You let silence fill the space for a few seconds before speaking. You didn’t want to face the awkwardness, but it was inevitable. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry, it wasn’t your fault.” 
“But Jayce showed up to help me and it interrupted our whole thing—and I feel so bad.” 
“Dont,” he twisted his lip, and reiterated. “It’s not on you.” 
“You sure?” 
“I just dont like people trying to walk all over you…you don’t deserve that.” 
You agreed, “I know.” You moved to start in on your fries, taking a sip of your drink between your chews. 
You and Ekko fell in and out of conversation, sometimes letting the comfortable quiet sit between you before laughing together again. Between the sweet giggles from the both of you and the crinkles in your eyes from pure enjoyment, Ekko paused. You watched him look at you with a more serious look on his face. 
“What,” you reached for a napkin, “Is there something on my face, or-“ 
“No,” he laughed, then. “There’s just nobody like you, really.” He punctuated the sentence with a slow roll of your name from his lips. You straightened up at that, looking down at your plate of half-eaten fries. 
Usually, you just liked the ambience of a bar. The social setting got you just out of your comfort zone enough to fulfill your quota without overwhelming you. But the ruckus had done just that. To top it off, you weren’t even a drinker. You never drank, in fact. It just wasn’t a taste you enjoyed. So you settled on the somewhat enjoyable appetizers they offered and would call it a night. Tonight was different. You became increasingly aware of the sensory overload, and whatever Ekko was trying to say had you feeling stir crazy. 
“I have to pee.” 
Without another word, you pushed out of the booth and beelined it for the back of the building. You moved away from the blaring sounds of people talking, cutting the corner toward the bathrooms. Even if you didn’t have to go, the solace of a quieter room sounded nice right now. You took your time, going through the motions slow—even making sure to take extra time to dry your hands twice. Your mind wandered between the hand dryer and paper towels; the time dragged but not enough to allow you to avoid the reality waiting just beyond the door. 
You stepped out, a bit disoriented by which direction you had to go in. 
“Funny seeing you here.” 
You perked up at the sound of Jayce’s voice to the side of you. Without thinking, you approached him and paused, before reaching to hug him in gratitude. 
He continued, voice muffled by you pressing into his chest. “Heard someone did well on their quiz.” Viktor must’ve told him, you figured. 
“That would be me,” you looked up at him. “With your help, of course.” 
He backed up, breaking the hug and wiping his hands in a dramatic motion. “Oh no,” he shook his head, “That was all you.”
“Oh, please. We both know I wouldn’t have done remotely well without you.” 
He grasped both of your arms at your sides, shaking you reassuringly. “What did I say about giving yourself more credit?” 
Peering up at him, you didn’t speak, just twisted your face in recollection. You took the time to observe him, his hair looking slightly different. The volume had fallen through the day obviously, and the bags under his eyes were more visible than you’d ever seen them. 
Jayce spoke again, “So how was it? Tell me all about it.” 
You stayed close to him, recounting the details of the quiz. “And like in our sessions, I made sure to go back and check my work. Made me feel way more confident and obviously… it paid off.” You put your hands on your hips, “Eighty freakin seven.” 
Jayce just smiled warmly. Not responding, but rather just admiring you and how happy you were. He reveled in the pride you showed, knowing he had a part but that it was ultimately you who had done the work. 
With a hand on your shoulder, Jayce finally spoke. “You’re really smart, you know that?” 
You suddenly became aware of how desolate the hall to the bathroom was. The sound of people socializing only echoed as opposed to resounding in your ears. Music seemed to dissipate where it would screech. You were left with nothing but the tingling of Jayce’s grip on you and the intense focus of his eyes. 
You continued to study him, watching as his chest rose and fell—mirroring you. You blinked, finally responding through a whisper. “I have a good tutor.” 
The words just barely passed your lips—tumbling off of them slowly in a way that had the man mesmerized. You watched his eyes flicker down and then back up to you. 
The hand on your shoulder found itself snaking around and up to your cheek, a thumb rubbing small back and forth motions into your skin. Jayce allowed his other hand to mimic the motion—both of his hands now cupping your face in intrigue. 
He tilted his head slightly before pushing himself forward with urgency. You hadn’t registered how quickly Jayce’s lips connected with yours until they slowed against you—appreciating the feeling. The tension in your body had released, allowing you to reach your arms up and around Jayce’s neck. Your lips molded into each other’s, like they were meant to be there and intended to stay. You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to nip at Jayce’s lips. 
You pulled back slightly, observing only the lower half of his face. The way the ghost of facial hair lingered there. How the swell of his lower lip almost always resembled a pout—even when he smiled. 
He couldn’t stand the distance and pulled you back in, working on a lip at a time. He groaned to himself, drowning in the sweetness of your lips. He continued to nudge into you, accidentally pushing your back to the wall. Your hands roamed his back, clawing at anything to ground you. His rough stubble, the fabric of his clothes, that scent of him that you loved so much, it was all too much. 
The sound of an approaching person startled you, even more so when you heard it was accompanied by the noise of clinking metal. When you realized, you pushed Jayce away—an apologetic look all over your face. 
A call of your name had you straightening your clothes; Jayce remained still, watching you. 
Viktor had come into view, pausing his steps at the sight of the pair of you. 
“Hey,” you spoke first. “You okay?” 
Viktor looked at Jayce, then at you. “I’m well. Just curious to see where you disappeared to.” 
“Oh…I just,” you smoothed over your shirt again, “Just had to use the bathroom.”
Viktor quickly flickered over to Jayce. “And you?” 
Clearly not paying attention and still looking at you, Jayce let out a sound. “Hmm?” 
“Are you also using the bathroom, Jayce?”
“Right, yeah…” he cleared his throat. “I just stepped out. We ran into each other.” 
With your lips? Viktor wanted to say. 
“Right, well.” You interjected, “I think this celebration’s lasted long enough.” You clasped your hands together dramatically. “I should head home for the night.” 
You allowed your peripheral to linger on Jayce, expecting something from him, before fully turning your head. He masked a smile—but the quick upturn of his lip made the motion apparent.
You awkwardly raised your hand, waving to Jayce and slipping past Viktor’s standing form. Flustered didn't even begin to explain it. You moved fluidly through the now growing crowd of people, the bar becoming more packed as the night went on. Without a second thought you approached Ekko, tapping his shoulder and motioning for him to leave with you. 
“I’m tired, I think. You wanna head out?” 
Without a reply, Ekko stood, following you toward the exit. The brisk air whipped around your skin—a chill there that hadn’t been before the sun went down. You shivered, then, both at the temperature and at the lingering feeling of Jayce’s lips on yours. 
Ekko broke your train of thought, “You okay?” 
You looked over to him, “Yeah, why?” 
“It’s just,” his focus was quickly drawn to your lips. “Just that you wanted to leave so suddenly, I guess.” His mouth seemed to open and close, searching for the words. Ultimately he was taken aback; he noticed the displaced sheen of your chapstick. The shine of the balm that was once properly placed seemed to have traveled and smeared around your mouth. 
Ekko nodded to himself, urging his body to take a step away from where he’d been so close to you. 
You cleared your throat, missing the way Ekko’s body slumped. “I just wanna get some sleep, it’s been a long week.” 
“Okay.” 
Your brow arched at him, then. “You alright?” 
Ekko swallowed in his mouth, controlling his stride and masking his distress. “I’m good…let’s head back.” 
“Okay.” Your voice trailed off. You matched his step back to your place until he stopped to see you off. Without another word, you waved bye—watching him disappear down the path. 
taglist
@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses @myxticmoon @rando-no-5
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dimlylittorch · 2 days ago
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need to cuddle with a big beefy man fr (1.5k words)
My Masterlist🌱
John Price x emotional!transmasc!reader (maybe neurodivergent!reader too? this is kind of based on how i act and i have adhd + rsd so yeah😭)
I’ve honestly been going through it lately and i really wish i had a john price of my own to make me feel better. but.. i just get to write these instead :(
Warnings: very brief mentions of su!c!dal ideation/SH caused by emotional stress
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You and John had been together for a small while. The two of you got on well, balancing each other’s personalities out easily. But as you started to spend more time together, like John sleeping over at your apartment, you found yourself having to be more wary. You had always been an emotional person, which was clear for anyone to see. Always having a smile on your face, it was easy to tell you felt things more deeply than some. But of course, there are two sides to every coin. You did your best to not show your ‘negative’ emotions to anyone. They were known to be.. explosive at times.
After a long day, it wasn’t unusual for you to go home and lock yourself in the bathroom for a small while, sitting on the cold tile floor to ground yourself as you let the tears flow. You learned a long time ago that trying to prevent them just makes it ten times worse. And crying could be triggered by anything for you.. messing something up, thinking someone is mad at you, spilling something on your outfit or your routine being overshadowed. It was hard- feeling like the world was against you. You couldn’t help that you were ‘sensitive’. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t not cry.
Getting your own apartment had been a positive and a negative thing. Positive in the sense that you could cry or express your emotions when you needed to. Negative in the sense that if you were having a really bad emotional episode? You were completely by yourself. Dark thoughts popped up sometimes. You knew it would all pass- but it was still hard to have to sit and listen to your brain telling you it would be easier if you didn’t have to feel it all anymore.
Being different than others had kept you from typical romance scenarios. Not dating much in high school, always feeling too emotionally mature for everyone.. a blessing and a curse. Meeting John and him asking you out was something you never even expected for yourself. But it ended up making sense. Having an older guy with higher maturity really allowed you the space to for once feel less obligated than others to always be mature and in charge. He was like a breath of fresh air when you’d been breathing in smog for far too long.
You had an incredibly shitty day. One of the few friends you had was being distant, your work was piling up so much you had to bring some home, you’d practically forgotten to eat all day.. everything was falling apart at the seams. Unable to hold yourself together, you started crying during the car ride home- which wasn’t all that unusual for you. Pulling into your parking space you make it up the elevator to the door of your apartment. Unlocking the door and walking inside, as soon as the door clicks closed behind you a sharp sob slips past your lips.
Tossing your bags onto the floor, you continue to sob almost uncontrollably as you stumble into the kitchen, vision blurry from tears. Wiping your cheeks with your sleeves as you open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. You can’t drink and cry at the same time.. it was a good hack that never felt like you were forcing yourself to stop crying. Letting yourself slide down the kitchen cabinets, you hit the floor with a weak gasp for breath, face heavily flushed and eyes bloodshot as you continued to cry to yourself.
After a few moments to yourself, you suddenly hear heavy footsteps from the hallway of your apartment. Looking up, your puffy face meets John’s, who is clearly concerned. Wearing a towel around his waist, his hair only slightly wet from the shower he must have taken- you interrupted him drying himself off. He wasn’t supposed to come over today. Christ- you interfered with another persons life. Why did you have to be such a bother?
He quickly darted over, immediately crouching down as his eyes scan over your form, checking for something wrong. “Sweetheart?” He says quickly, his voice slightly panicked. “What’s wrong?”
Staring up at him like an idiot, you can’t help but look away out of embarrassment. You never let anyone hear you cry like this. “Nothing” you murmur faintly as you wipe your cheeks. “Just.. needed to cry.” The embarrassment of getting caught like this made the tears stop almost instantly.
He looks at you with furrowed brows and a confused gaze. “Love..” he murmurs softly as he kneels in front of you, cupping your chin and pulling you to look at him. “I’ve barely heard men who’ve been shot cry that hard.” He says softly out of concern as his thumb rubs over your cheek.
Sighing softly, you lean into his touch. “I just.. I cry really hard. Always have.” You confess faintly. “I’m sorry- I never wanted you to see that.” You sniff.
With a huff, he gently leans forward and pulls you into his arms, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “Hearing you like that broke my heart.” He whispers gruffly against your ear. “Don’t you ever hide from me again. Not when you’re hurting like that.”
Sniffing faintly as you let him hold you, you can’t help but feel the guilt bubble up inside of you. You weren’t hurting that bad.. you just cried really hard. For some reason. It was never justified- you were just always overreacting.. nothing can hurt that bad. At least, that’s what you’ve been told your whole life. “I’m really okay.” You murmur softly, but you can tell your heart isn’t in your words. “I just.. overreact. I don’t know how to fix it.”
Shushing you, he holds you tighter against him. “No one could fake that, lovie.” He murmurs against your heated cheek. “Your little heart is too damn big.” He sighs. He gently scoops you up into his arms, bringing you to your bedroom which you’d perfectly crafted to be a safe space. Setting you down, he reaches to grab one of your stuffed animals before putting them in your arms. “I know ya like the softer things, sweetheart.” He says softly as he walks over to his overnight bag to pull out some clothes.
Sighing contentedly, you wrap your arms around your plushie, holding it tightly to your chest as you try to forget about the day you’d had. The crying spells came out of nowhere, but ended after a small while. Even then.. you’d learned early on that other people don’t need to cry that hard. But for some reason you always did. “Some friend in high school saw me cry like that once.” You whisper faintly, burying your face into the plushie in front of you. “They stopped being friends with me after that.” You sniff. “Are you going to leave too?” You asked, unable to look at him.
He paused at your words as he slipped his sweatpants on before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen combat, love.” He murmurs comfortingly as he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “You think a few tears could scare me off?”
Shaking your head slightly, you let out a soft sigh. “I wish I didn’t do that.” You said faintly. “It gets hard.. having to run away and cry. But if I don’t- it starts to hurt. Physically, I mean. Well, it hurts either way. But it hurts more if I try not to.”
John sighs softly as he looks down at you. “I don’t remember that last time I cried.” He murmurs softly. “I miss.. being able to feel like that. Emotional.” He says faintly as his hand reaches over to stroke your hair.
Letting out a contented sigh at his touch, you let yourself melt into the mattress slightly, reaching behind you to tug your weighted blanket over yourself, which he quickly helps with. When you process his words, your bloodshot eyes meet his own. “C’mere” you murmur, holding up the blanket for him.
He chuckles slightly, shifting to lay down next to you, smiling to himself when your arm slips around his waist to hold him close. With his back to your chest, he can’t think of another time he felt this.. safe. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had let him be the little spoon. “I should be holding you, yknow.” He murmurs.
When you grab another plushie from your bed pile and reach over him, placing it in his hands, he can’t help but laugh. “Let me hold you.” You say softly. “And you hold him.”
With a tired smile, he wraps his arms around the silly little stuffed animal, letting his mind fade away into the warmth and comfort of your arms. Only his baby would find comfort in comforting others. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten to find someone like you.
hey!! on the last writing i posted i added a poll, and John Price fluff was in the lead. I know I haven’t been posting much fluff w/o smut, so i hope y’all enjoy :D
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zepskies · 2 days ago
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Aww thank you, lovely friend!! 🥹💕 I tried my best to end this series with a bang lol, but also in a hopefully satisfying way that ties up the most important loose ends. I canNOT wait to dive into your thoughts on the grand finale!!
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well, what a start! the action scenes were playing so vividly in my head, i loved all the details <3 and mato being a good son-in-law! love to see it 🤣
Ooh I'm so glad the action was gripping and vivid enough for you!! I don't love writing action scenes because it can be a lot of moving parts, but I try my best to make sure certain details stick out. And yesss Mato is on his A game now actually working with Dean! loll
felt a variety of emotions with this lol. sammy!!! i had a feeling he'd hear the commotion, so glad he's back!💓 (by now i think i've established my love for sam pretty well. 😂) i felt a bit confused too because cas what are you doinggg 😩 hopefully playing chess or something. 🤔 and it makes me sad that sam lost his hat, but his horse!!🥺 i'm not sure if it was his personal horse (like dean's baby) or not, however they shared a journey together :') wherever he ended up, i hope he's alright 💕
Oh I don't blame you loll. 😅 The "wtf?!" feeling with Cas was very intentional, even with the "yay!" of Sam being back in the game (even though he lost his hat and horse 🥲). But your instincts are right -- both of them were definitely playing chess on that one. I'm actually glad you wondered if it was Sam's personal horse because it's a thought I had and wondered if I should include that detail. In my head it wasn't his personal horse, but like you said, still a horse he shared a journey with. 💙 Though I also didn't specify this in the chapter, Cas/the soldiers took possession of Sam's horse, but he got him back afterwards (in the aftermath of it all).
phew 😅 also i cannot stop picturing the colonel from kfc every time sanderson gets mentioned 😭 white suit and all, the image won't leave my head loll
ahahaha yesss that's exactly what I was picturing, with Asmodeus's punk ass. 😂😂
absolutely beautiful <3 may he rest peacefully :(
Aw thank you for highlighting that line and Tahatan's dying words -- def one of my favorite lines for this entire series honestly.
i still don't like him but i will admit, this made me chuckle a little 😂 i really feel for mila and her people. it's just so unfair to be uprooted from your home like that :( and of course that grimy gremlin would go back on his word. the anxiety of it all 😩
Otaktay's redemption arc is slow on this one lol but I liked giving him that throwaway line. 😂
Oh yes, I drew historically from the "Trail of Tears" in American history, where the Native Americans/Indians were forced from their lands and they had to travel onwards to find new territory. It's a dark time that tends to be glossed over.
Yuuup gotta have our "bad guy goes back on his word" moment! 😅 If you've ever seen the movie Prince of Egypt, it's like that moment when the Jews are being chased after by the Pharaoh Rameses after he initially released them from slavery.
awwwww hell yeah i know that's right dean!!!😭🤍
hahaa YES! Dean's made his choice. 😌
ah yes that delicious pre-established relationship danger and peril angst, my hearttt 🥺 i love them sm<3
That moment where there's no time for goodbye, knowing you mind not see your loved one again. 🥲
i will admit this made me giggle 😭 I'm so sorry dean lmaoo :') the fight scenes were so cool though!! again, very vivid in my mind. didn't expect the otaktay save, but i'm glad he's gained some sense. and oh jack, i am glad he was spared but he fr just needs to distance himself from the colonel and his bs 🤠
ahaha I thought it was kinda funny too, ngl. 😂 Aw yay!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fight scenes and that they felt vivid in your mind! Otaktay did step up, didn't he? Some new respect is brewing between him and Dean (finally), and you're very right loll. Jack just needs to go home and start a new life. Same with Cas and Benny tbh. 🥲
this was so cute 🥺 i was worried for her, but once again we see she's just as strong as she is stubborn loll
Oh yeah, Mila's still as tenacious and stubborn as ever! lol Pregnant ladies still kick ass, amirite? 😘
period benny. goodbyeeeeee and good riddance colonel 💅🏽 Šóta choosing peace was so mature of him, i'm glad he's not being so hotheaded anymore. completely understandable though given all that has happened.
Right?!! 😂 Begone, bitch~
And Šóta is finally maturing -- his father's death hit him hard, and he's learning what it takes to be a true leader. 💜
crying. just the sweetestttt 💞💞 to no one's surprise, i'm so glad sam decided to stay longer 🤣💗 given the circumstances i'm not sure how often he would be able to visit once he returns to his city civilian life, but at least for now he gets to spend time with his brother and good people -- family :3💘
Sam wants to stay with his bro as long as possible now that he's found him, especially for his nephew's birth. 🥹 And for that reason too (not knowing if he'll be able to visit again, or if so, how often). Family indeed! 💞💞
this had me meltinggggg 💓 they're going to be the sweetest parents. they're already so sweet to each other, i can't 🥺
You know, I did intend to stop here with Mila and Dean, but maaaaybe I'll have to come back to see how they're doing as parents and pillars of their tribe. 😏💓
sobbing. i love them so much, this was the most beautiful ending 💕 another wonderful series zep!!🤍:)
Omg thank you so much, Julia!! You don't know how wonderful it's been to get your support on this very niche little series that I didn't know if anyone would even want to read. 🥹 I always appreciate your input, but especially on The Honorable Choice/Outlander series. 💕
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Outlander - Part 4
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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: Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!! 🥳 Now, the actual grand finale…
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: 6K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, blood and violence, angst, fluff, and spice.~
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
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Part 4: One People
Dean straps on his bow and arrow, but first he takes up his gun from his thigh holster. Then he saddles up Mato and climbs up on his back.
The horse is raring to go, and for once he responds to the firmness of Dean’s tone and trusts him enough to obey his commands.
Šóta, Otaktay, and the other men do the same with their horses. Soon, they’re thundering down the hill into the village.
It’s already chaos.
Dean recognizes the blue uniforms of the U.S. Cavalrymen tearing through tipis and shooting with rifles and revolvers. They must’ve tracked Šóta and his men back to the village.
Men and horses are the main targets, but women and children are getting caught in the crossfire. Šóta purposefully knocks his horse into an officer who had his weapon aimed at Misae and her two daughters. Otaktay guides them in the opposite direction, pointing the way to escape into the forest.
Dean rides onward through the village. He and Mato leap over fallen bodies and horses, and Dean shoots at an officer who would’ve shot him first. He has to be careful with his bullets though. He only has two left.
He fights his way to the center, all the while searching for any sight of Mila’s dark hair. It’s almost impossible to see with so many people running and screaming and fighting. But when he hears a familiar voice, Dean cuts to an abrupt stop.
Chief Tahatan rides his horse, white and dappled black. He wields an ax as the horse rears up on his hind legs and lets loose a powerful bray. Just ahead of him is Colonel Sanderson, flanked by Benny and another officer. The Colonel holds a rifle poised in his hands.
“Stop!” Dean shouts.
He rides hard towards the scene. He takes aim with his gun, and he shoots. The bullet clips Sanderson in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he recoils from the force of the bullet and misses his shot.
Dean’s just not fast enough.
The Colonel’s bullet ricochets off the ground and hits Tahatan’s horse. The animal whinnies and buckles, and he brings Tahatan down along with him, rolling onto his side and crushing the Chief’s legs and most of his torso under the horse’s weight. Dean hears the crunch of bone as the Chief utters a stifled grunt.
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.”
Other officers come to join him, both on their horses and on foot. A few of them have wrangled women and their children, along with a few men. One man is dragging Mila along by the arm, even though she pulls and struggles against his hold. He has a long, jagged cut over one closed eye that streams with blood, and Dean doesn’t have to wonder how it got there. The man holds Mila’s own knife to her throat.
Dean’s heart falls into his stomach as he meets her gaze. Hers is angry, until she finds him. Her brown eyes are relieved and hopeful, but then worried for him. Dean reads it all there. He knows her face as well as he knows his own.
“Now this is what we call an interesting development,” Sanderson says, dragging Dean’s attention back to him.
Dean only feels moderately better when Šóta, Otaktay, Chatan, and a couple of the other men come to flank him on either side. Weaya manages to shuffle away from the officer at her back, just to go to Tahatan. He’s still lying there under his horse, breathing shallowly. Šóta itches to climb down from his horse and go to his father, but he can’t allow Dean to stand on his own.
“Apparently your death has been greatly exaggerated, son,” Sanderson says. He glances at Benny, who wears a grim, guilty frown.
“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean says, his voice laden with grit. His hand tightens on his raised gun.
Sanderson tsks at him while Jack wraps a rag tightly around his arm to help stem the bleeding. Afterwards, he adjusts his blue jacket and his Stetson.
“Is this really how you’ve been living for all these months? Like a dog, sleeping in the thatch with the fleas,” he remarks as he glances around. But his gaze stops on Mila. His brows crunch together as recognition dawns in his eyes.
“Ah, now I see why,” he says. He reaches for his pistol at his belt and points it at Mila, like it’s merely an extension of his hand. Dean’s jaw clenches. Chatan and Šóta become even more tense; their horses shift in place, picking up on their riders’ unrest. Sanderson notes their reactions, and finally Dean’s too.
“Instead of putting this savage bitch down, you took her for yourself, didn’t you?” Sanderson wonders aloud. His face breaks into amusement, as his deep chuckle echoes in the clearing. “You threw it all away. A promising career, your respect as a man, and even your life. A traitor to your goddamn country. And for what?”
His thumb pulls back the safety on his revolver.
“Enough, you bastard. You deal with me,” Dean tersely demands. He slowly lowers his gun, and his last bullet. “Let her go. Let them all go, and you can have me. Court martial me. Hell, put me in front of a firing squad, or put me down like a dog if that’s what you want… But let them go.” 
Mila breaths in sharply. She stares at Dean like she wants to protest.
“Ah, but ya see, I didn’t come here for you,” Sanderson says. Without taking his aim off Mila, his shifts his gaze down to Tahatan, who struggles for every breath. “I’m gonna wash this land clean, from here to the West Coast. However long it takes.”
“Colonel!” an officer calls out. He approaches on a horse, though he leads a man by a rope that ties his wrists behind his back.
Dean’s eyes widen in shock. It’s Cas, and he has Sam as his captive. Sam is dirtier and more disheveled since Dean saw him off not too long ago. He’s lost his hat and his horse, but he doesn’t look afraid when he meets Dean’s gaze, then the assessing Colonel.
“Mr. Winchester. I should’ve known,” Sanderson says dryly. “Here to reacquaint yourself with your brother? Though I’ve got a feeling you already have.”
“What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me?” Sam says. “In case you’ve forgotten, I work for the government too. I’m a prosecutor for all the surrounding counties in Kansas City.”
Sanderson raises a brow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me, son?”
“It should, Colonel,” Sam says. He nods at his brother. “The world already thinks he’s dead. Fine. But there’s plenty of people who know I traveled to Fort Laramie. People high up in the chain of command. If you hurt me, my brother, or these people, someone’s gonna hear about it. And soon.”
“He’s got a point there, Colonel,” Benny says.
“You shut the fuck up!” Sanderson barks at his captain. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you down where you stand. You and Novak. But believe you me, I’ll be dealin’ with you later.”
Sanderson continues to seethe. He thinks hard about the decision he makes next as he stares down at Sam, and then back up at Dean. He grits his teeth, his mustache twitching. Dean holds his breath, though he briefly meets eyes with his brother.
Slowly, Sanderson lowers his weapon away from Mila. Dean can breathe again, if shallowly. He doesn’t drop his guard though. In fact, he watches Sanderson even closer.
“I’ll give you dirty mongrels one hour to clear out of here,” Sanderson says, his eyes narrowed. “Anything left gets tied down and burned to charcoal.”
With that, he sharply tugs on his horse’s reins. He commands his men to fall back, and like the soldiers they are, they obey. Benny and Cas both cast Dean a backwards glance—one that tells Dean that he still has the loyalty of his friends. He now realizes that Cas brought Sam back for a purpose; it wasn’t to hurt him, but to help him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “capture” was Sam’s idea.
After the soldiers clear out of the area with the Colonel, Dean and the other men dismount from their horses. He beelines for Mila, gathering her into the safety of his arms. Then he spares a hand to grab his brother’s shoulder as he smiles.
“I think I’m more glad to see you the second time,” Dean remarks.
“I’ll take that,” Sam says. His grin is infectious, but Dean returns his attention to his wife. He touches her cheek and runs his assessing gaze over her body. He frowns as he examines the thin cut along her neck where the soldier pressed the blade of her knife.
“You okay? Are you hurt?” he asks.
Mila shakes her head. “I’m fine.” Though she inspects him the same way with a wandering hand across his chest. Dean takes that hand and gives her a reassuring smile.
It falls when he hears Weaya crying. She sits beside three other women, including Šóta’s mother.
“Father,” Šóta says lowly. His voice is a rasp as he kneels beside Tahatan’s broken body, holding his hand. The chief manages to raise his head slightly. He looks at his son, and then his gaze travels. Eventually, it falls on Dean.
Tahatan smiles.
“Under this sky,” he says. “We are one people.”
 He takes three more labored breaths before his eyes close. Šóta lays his father’s limp hand over his chest, which no longer moves.
Šóta’s mother gently raises her husband’s head to remove his long headdress. Among other things, it’s made of leather, glass beads, horsehair, and eagle tail feathers. Each feather represents a warrior’s honor earned in war, like a soldier’s insignia. 
With shaking hands, she places it on Šóta’s head. He takes a deep breath, and he looks up at the many tear-stained faces that mirror his own.
“We have to go,” he says.
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Sam stays to help mobilize the tribe. He helps a mother join her children into one of the caravans, then he and Otaktay heft rolled up tipis and supplies into the back of it.
“You are a law man?” Otaktay asks him.
Sam nods. “That’s right.”
“Make better laws,” Otaktay says, and walks away.
Sam is left with a bemused look on his face. Dean comes over and thumps him on the back.
“Making friends?” he says dryly.
“Don’t think so,” Sam replies. He shakes his head and follows his brother over to the second caravan.
“Eh, consider yourself lucky. That guy pretty much hates my guts,” Dean whispers.
Sam raises his brows. “What?”
Dean explains the story in its simplest, briefest terms. Meanwhile, the mood around their packing is somber and quiet.
For Mila, it feels wrong. It’s wrong for them to have to leave the river where they’ve tilled and nurtured the land for three generations. It’s wrong to leave Chief Tahatan’s body wrapped beside Takoda’s on the hill without at least one proper night of mourning. She feels her grief down to her very core, but all she can do is sit in the caravan beside her mother and hold protective hands around the small swell of her stomach. Her tears fall silently down her cheeks and dissolve between the indigo beads on her dress.
She only raises her head when Chatan comes to check on her and her mother. He touches Mila’s cheek, drying her tears there. He leans in to kiss Weaya’s hand.
“We leave soon,” he says.
“Where is Dean?” Mila asks.
“Helping Šóta,” Chatan replies, but he stops short and corrects himself. “He helps our Chief.”
A few moments later, the caravans begin to move as the horses pull with the reins. Šóta leads at the front with a few of the warriors, but the rest of them ride strategically around and behind the caravans. Sam and Dean fall back to ride beside Mila’s caravan, where Chatan sits at the helm. Sam has been given the horse of a fallen warrior, while Dean rides Mato.
Despite how low she feels, Mila smiles at the sight of her horse allowing Dean to ride him, even with a saddle and bridle.
“Mato is being agreeable,” she remarks.
“You sound surprised,” Dean says, teasing slightly. “Told you I’d get him to trust me eventually.”
“More like wear him down,” she quips back.
“Hey, he impregnated my mare. Without my say so, I might add. I’d say we’re proper father and son-in-law.”
“Yes,” Chatan chimes in wryly. “That is what that means.”
Mila scoffs at him, but the gleam of good humor in his eyes amuses her. She smiles as she rubs a hand over her belly. Dean smiles too. It’s strange that he can still do that after a night like tonight, but seeing Chatan do it, along with Sam, and Mila, and her mother too, it gives him hope for them—for all of them.
Until the first gunshot fires into the air.
Dean freezes. His body coils tight, and he turns to look sharply over his shoulder.
He shouldn’t be surprised that Colonel Sanderson went back on his word. His cavalrymen are gaining behind them on horseback, hooting and hollering like it’s a game for sport. His jaw clenching in both anger and determination, Dean tells Chatan to speed up the caravan. He locks eyes with Mila for a moment.
Be safe, he tries to say with that look.
Then he gives Sam a nod; together they speed up to alert Šóta at the front.
“They’re gaining on us,” Dean says, gesturing behind them. “We need to lead them away from the caravans and pick ‘em off—as many as we can.”
Šóta nods in grim agreement, but he has a moment of hesitation as he considers Dean.
“You go with the caravans,” he says.
Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m ending this. Once and for all.”
“You are willing to fight your people?” Šóta asks.
The set of Dean’s determined face doesn’t change.
“I’m protecting my people,” he says. He looks to Sam. “Stay with the caravans. Make sure they get across the river.”
Sam agrees, and the men split ways. Dean turns Mato away from the group along with Šóta and Otaktay, and a few other warriors. The caravans continue with Sam to help guide them. Mila clings to the edge and watches with growing dread as her husband rides farther and farther away from her.
Dean can’t allow himself to look back. Instead of drawing his gun, he reaches for his bow strapped to his back and an arrow from his quiver. He takes aim at the first soldier he sees raise his gun, along with a steadying breath, and he shoots his arrow before the other man can fire. The arrow embeds itself in the man’s chest and knocks him clean off his horse.
Šóta and Otaktay follow suit. They shout out yips and battle cries on the air as they take aim. The soldiers begin to scatter out of their formation. They weren’t expecting the Lakota to go on the offensive. Sanderson has conveniently let his men ride ahead of him, but Dean hears him giving the orders from behind. The Colonel has his left arm wrapped in a sling while he holds his gun aloft.
“All right, mustang,” Dean says to Mato, tightening his hands on the reins. “Remind ‘em why they should be scared a’ you.”
He gives the stallion a subtle kick. It’s just enough for him to pick up into a full gallop. Dean tucks his head down and lets the horse speed forward like a bullet carving across the plain. The soldiers take aim, but that’s when Šóta and Otaktay join in from behind. They begin to take down the uniformed men, one by one as they weave between bullets. 
Dean tears between two officers and unbalances them. Mato, with his big head and chest, bulldozes straight through them. They shout in surprise and fear, and one of them even topples off his horse. Dean banks left and turns Mato around to finish what he started.
He retrieves his knife from his thigh holster and slices into one man’s neck, making him choke on his own blood. Dean forcefully takes the rifle off another man, and after flipping it around, hits him dead between the eyes with the butt of it—once, then twice until his nose breaks. He careens back off his horse into the dirt. Dean wracks the rifle and shoots the man for good measure.
The sound of a safety clicking back alerts him and turns his head, but he’s too late.
An arrow flies into the officer’s throat.
Dean looks over sharply. He finds Otaktay, lowering his bow.
Dean’s eyes widen. The other man just saved his life.
Dean nods in thanks, and Otaktay slowly returns the gesture. The moment is cut short, however, when Dean sharpens in alarm. Instead of opening his mouth to warn, he knows he has no time, not even to grab another arrow. He just throws his knife.
It carves through the air and hits Jack Kline where his arm meets his shoulder—his shooting arm that would’ve clipped Otaktay with his pistol. Jack falls off his horse and hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a hot rush. He groans in pain while clutching his arm. It’s not an easy wound, but he’ll live…as long as Otaktay doesn’t kill him first. Still on his horse, he towers over the younger man with another arrow notched.
“Wait!” Dean shouts.
He meant what he said about finishing this, but now looking at Jack, all Dean sees is a kid following orders. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, hundreds of miles away from home, just trying to make something of himself.
Otaktay looks up, wasting a precious second. Another beat, and a bullet tears into him, almost forcing him off his horse. Dean grits his teeth and speeds forward. Šóta rejoins them in time to help lead Otaktay away; he’s been hit in the side. There’s no telling how deep, but all Dean can focus on is the path ahead.
He comes face to face with Colonel Sanderson.
Dean raises his bow and arrow and ducks his head against another bullet, still shooting off his arrow. It misses its aim at the horse’s legs, but it spooks him enough to whinny in distress. It begins to buck off the Colonel.
“Whoa!” he shouts, trying to take back control of the horse. Dean rides in close and cracks a fist across Sanderson’s face. His head whips back with a pained grunt. Dean grabs his wrist and twists, until he feels tendons popping and the gun loosened from the other man’s hand. Then, Dean brings his elbow up into Sanderson’s nose and spills blood.
“Fuck!” Sanderson growls. He manages to land a punch of his own with his left arm, despite how it makes his shoulder bleed again. Dean recovers from the blow to his cheek and goes to grab that wound, digging in his fingers hard. He’s satisfied by the howl of pain Sanderson lets loose.
Dean doesn’t care if it’s a dirty tactic. He’s taking any opportunity he can, because right now, it’s not about his honor. It’s about protecting what’s his.
But Sanderson fights back just as dirty. He grabs Dean by the back of his neck and headbutts him, so hard he sees stars. Sanderson lands one more kick to Dean’s chest that almost sends him off of Mato. Dean has to grab on tight to the saddle and pull himself up, just in time for a lassoed rope to circle around his neck. Dean’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He slips his hand between the rope and his neck just in time before it tightens—because Sanderson tugs hard as he urges his horse into a gallop.
“Aw, sh—” Dean is yanked off Mato. He lands hard in the dirt, before he begins to be dragged across it.
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Once again, the current is strong across Little Cheyenne. The first caravan has more horses to pull it through, but the caravan that Chatan is trying to lead starts to take on water. Mila and her mother sit behind him, along with Misae and her daughters, Tahatan’s widows, and Eyota and her husband.
The colt is doing his best to keep going, but Baby and two of the other horses are struggling in the pull of the river. They’ve hit a deeper patch under the water, and now it’s all the way up to Baby’s chest. She can’t handle the weight of the caravan along with the river’s current.
Sam comes closer with rope in hand, but Mila can see in his eyes that he’s trying to decide what to do. She grasps the edge of the caravan to pull herself up, and she points to the black mare.
“She needs help!” she calls out to him.
“Mila, sit down!” Chatan orders.
Mila turns back to her father with a determined set to her face. She knows his ankle has never healed entirely right. If he tries to do what she’s about to do, he’d probably fall into the river and get trampled by the horses. She knows what she must do.
She carefully stands up all the way and moves to the edge of the caravan, ignoring her father and mother trying to stop her. Sam’s eyes grow wide, but he tries to come in closer to support her. She steps out onto Baby’s back and slides into an astride position. The frigid water climbs up Mila’s dress and reaches her waist, making her shiver, but she ignores that too. She reaches out for Sam.
“Throw me the rope!” she calls out.
Sam follows her lead and does what she says. Mila not only catches the rope, but loops the ends of it around Baby’s bridle and around her chest. It’s hard work, especially because Mila has to tread water just to get the rope around the mare’s wide chest, but Sam helps her as much as he can.
When they’ve finished securing the ropes, Sam pulls ahead. With his horse leading Baby, she gets the momentum she needs to climb out of the dip, and eventually, cross the rest of the river.
Mila is sopping wet by the time they make it to the other side. Her braid has come loose, and so her hair becomes a black curtain around her face. She clings to Baby as she catches her breath, stroking the horse’s neck.
“Good girl. Big, strong girl,” she soothes. “Your father will be proud of you.”
Speaking of, Mila turns to look back. Across the river, the men are still fighting off the soldiers that sought to finish what they started last night. Mila scans with narrowed eyes for Dean.
“You all right?” Sam asks. He sidles up next to her and grasps her shoulder to make sure.
“Fine,” she breathes.
But she hesitates on a sharp inhale. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sure of what she’s seeing. Her mouth drops open in shock.
“Sam!” She points out the shape of a man she thinks is Dean. Sam follows her line of vision and becomes just as alarmed at what he sees.
Mila immediately takes her father’s knife from her shoe and cuts the ropes that bind Baby to the caravan. Mila puts her fingers to her lips and whistles sharply instead of kicking the mare. Baby sharpens to attention and heeds the command, just like she’s done for Dean a hundred times before.
Mila guides her back through the river.
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Dean is being road hauled across the plain. He hits every bump, rock, twig, and dry patch of dirt in several yards as he twists and struggles to break free.
He lost his knife to save Otaktay, and he’s probably lost all his arrows along with his bow. Dean grits his teeth, as he can hear Sanderson’s insane hooting and hollering on the wind whipping past his ears, and not much else.
He doesn’t know where Šóta is, or if even Otaktay’s still alive, but his last thoughts aren’t about them. Instinctively, he thinks of his wife. It’s not even a coherent thought. It’s just her name, her face, her hand on his heart.
And the rope snaps.
Dean grunts as his momentum slows. He rolls across the dirt and grass to a stop. He probably has road burns and cuts and bruises all down his back, but at least he can stare up at the morning sun and breathe.
Heaving for free air, he tugs the rope from around his neck and shoves it off. He hears familiar horse hooves galloping his way. Somehow, he manages to raise his head.
Now, either the sun is playing tricks on him, or a black shape is thundering towards him.
Apparently, his eyes aren’t lying to him. Baby slows to a stop, and Mila climbs down from her back. Mila rushes to his side and kneels beside him after putting away her knife. She takes his face into her gentle hands.
“Dean?” she says, her voice tinged with desperation.
He grabs onto her wrist and smiles weakly, looking up at her soulful brown eyes.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.
She sighs and shakes her head, despite the tears in her eyes.
“Be quiet,” she laughs. Dean just grins.
She cups the back of his neck and guides him up slowly into a sitting position. His back is a bloody mess, but they’ll deal with that later.
“You all right, brother?”
Dean’s smile drops. He clutches at Mila’s arm protectively, but he looks up at Benny Lafitte. His horse shifts in place. Dean finally notices Sam is there too, with his gun trained on Benny. But Benny’s gun is raised right back at Sam.
They’re joined by Colonel Sanderson. He wears a self-satisfied look on his face as he approaches with his pistol held aloft.
“Well, well,” he drawls. “Ain’t this a picture. Traitors and savages.”
Mila keeps her back to the Colonel; she stubbornly defends Dean with her body, even though he’s gathered her to his chest protectively. With his right hand, he subtly reaches for the gun holster at his thigh. One last weapon. One last shot.
He shares a look with Mila, silently asking her to trust him. She gives him a subtle nod.
“Captain Lafitte,” Sanderson addresses Benny, even though his gaze is straight on Dean and Mila. He holds Sam in his periphery. “Now’s the time to take a stand. Are you gonna serve your country and put these three in the ground where they belong, or are you gonna join ‘em?”
Benny stares back at his superior officer. He thought he understood before, but today is when he truly understands why Dean made his choice.
Benny lowers his weapon down to his side.
“This ain’t the law,” he says. “This ain’t justice. It’s just pride, plain and simple. Your pride, Colonel.”
After a moment of genuine surprise, Sanderson rolls his eyes. He shifts his gun off of Sam and points it at Benny next.
A trigger fires, but the bullet that hits its mark is not the Colonel’s.
It’s Dean’s, and it hits Asmodeus Sanderson between the eyes.
Dean lowers his silver, smoking Colt down at his side, where Mila moved just in time for Dean to take his shot. He holds her to him now, taking in deep breaths.
Benny and Sam both look to Dean with shock still in their eyes, but before either of them can say anything, they notice Cas stumbling over on foot with a wounded Jack Kline leaning heavily on him. They’re flanked on both sides by Šóta and Otaktay. The latter has a cloth tied tight around his middle. His bullet wound just looks like a nasty graze.
The other warriors that remain follow behind, and they have Mato and Baby in tow by their bridles.
Dean realizes that Cas and Jack are the only other survivors from the rest of the unit. Šóta has taken them prisoner. He orders the other men to force Benny off of his horse. They shove him closer to Cas and Jack.
Dean quickly tries to raise up onto his knees, though it’s hard for him to stand. Mila helps him the rest of the way, and he keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“We will make an example of these,” Šóta says, nodding at Cas, Jack, and Benny. They look rightly nervous, shifting their gazes towards Dean.
Dean raises his hands to placate Šóta (and hopefully reassure his friends).
“Šóta, I know these guys. They were my men,” he says. “They were just following the Colonel’s orders.”
“And what does that mean to me, Dean Winchester?” Šóta says. He climbs down from his horse, his headdress of feathers tousled as a breeze rushes through.
“It means they won’t follow us,” Dean says. “They won’t tell the Army what actually happened here. They’ll keep their word if I ask them to. So I’m asking you…trust me. Trust me like you’ve trusted me before.”
Šóta seems to consider it, even though he doesn’t exactly like the idea. Otaktay seems to like it even less.
“We won’t betray you, Chief,” Benny says to Šóta, and to the other warriors. “We respect you, and we don’t want any more trouble. For us, or for Dean.”
Šóta considers this with a tilt of his head. Before he decides, first, he turns to Otaktay. Other than Dean, he’s now the man Šóta trusts most.
Otaktay looks over at Dean. Between them, there’s an understanding. Finally, there’s also respect. Otaktay returns his gaze to his leader, and he nods.
Šóta expels a deep breath. He addresses the three soldiers.
“Go. Go in peace, or next time, there will not be peace,” he says.
The soldiers breathe in relief.
Dean steps forward with Mila’s help. There he shakes each man’s hand. He’s said goodbye to Cas and Benny before, but somehow, this feels even more final than the last.
Benny and Cas are given back their horses. They help Jack up first, then Cas climbs up with him. Benny mounts his own horse, and Sam, Dean, and the Lakota watch them leave the way they came.
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It takes days to cross the plains and maneuver through the mountains, but Šóta leads the rest of the tribe to safety within Sioux territory. They find a place to settle along the Big Cheyenne River, northeast of the Black Hills.
There they will learn the land and what to plant and forage there for the late autumn harvest, as summer ends. There is where they will honor the dead who couldn’t make the journey. There is where their traditions will be celebrated, old and new.
Like today. The men have painted each other with blue circles around their faces and blue lines across their foreheads, chins, and cheekbones. The women are painted similarly in red. It symbolizes change in its many forms, but most of all, it symbolizes new relationships, and new responsibilities.
Today, it’s Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. This ceremony formally welcomes Dean into the tribe by marriage. It also recognizes Sam as his brother, and so, it acknowledges Sam as a friend to their tribe as well. They are now all family. One people.
Dean sits with his brother around the large firepit, where a roasted boar is already half-eaten. Dean has shared a lot of meals with these people, but somehow, this one is the best he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the company, he thinks, as he laughs at some old story Sam is trying to tell.
“No, no, no, that’s not what happened. Let me tell it—”
“What, so you can make stuff up?”
“Oh, I’m making stuff up?”
Mila giggles quietly, but it’s enough to earn Dean’s attention. She sits at his left, and he turns to her with an amused smile.
“What’re you laughing at?” he teases. His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in.
“You,” she replies. “You and your brother. You’re worse than me and Šóta.”
Dean chuckles and shakes his head. He points over at her cousin, their esteemed Chief, who’s busy making shadow creatures with exaggerated voices to impress the kids. Right now, it’s a big grizzly bear that threatens to eat the closest child.
“Worse than the grizzly?” Dean says.
“Hmm, maybe not,” she says with a laugh.
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That evening, Dean is glad he convinced Sam to start sleeping in his own tipi. He agreed to stay until Mila has the baby, but while Dean is grateful to have his brother here for a few more months, he still wants some much-needed privacy with his wife.
He “helps” her undress for bed, all the while distracting her with lingering kisses across her neck and shoulders, winding his fingers into her long hair. He wraps his arms around her and cups her full breasts from behind, satisfied by the arousing way she moans.
“They’re heavier,” Dean whispers in her ear, gently squeezing her breasts. She hums in response. “Your thighs and hips are thicker too, nice and soft for me.” He squeezes those too for good measure.
“I am changing,” she admits. “Are they good changes?”
“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his lips moving against her throat. He gently turns her around and guides her down to lay on the bedding and furs. He palms at the best change of all—the growing swell of her belly. She’s gotten bigger, and growing a little more each week. Dean really wants to meet his kid.
He dips down to lay a path of slow, tender kisses down between her breasts, and over her belly. Mila smiles and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, brushing past his ears.
“Do you want a son, or a daughter?” she asks him. It’s not the first time she’s asked, but she wonders if his answer will change now, after everything they’ve gone through to get here. She finds that her own answer hasn’t changed.
Dean shakes his head. “I don’t care. Either one.”
All he wants is for the baby to be healthy, and for Mila to be healthy too. He moves back up to claim her lips. When he kisses her like this, he hopes she knows what he’s really saying. Just in case, he says it anyway. He says it out loud to her for the first time.
“I love you,” he says. He pauses, then smiles a little. “You know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to.”
She smiles, because she knows. With her hand over his heart, she knows.
And when their son is born a few months later, she has a dream. She dreams of an eagle’s wings that shift from white to gold in the light.
Dean plans to give him a name he picked out weeks before, Elijah. It was his father’s middle name. But she will also give their son a name.
Ikíphi, the name her uncle, Chief Tahatan, gave Dean Winchester himself.
Because one day, she knows her son will be worthy of it.
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AN: And there we have it! A more definitive end to Dean and Mila's story. 🥹
For those of you who read and enjoyed this, thank you so much for sticking with me through this sequel of The Honorable Choice. This was an idea that wouldn't let go of me once I started, and it's the first time that I've written something like this. 💖💖
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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