#'sunshine girl' made me TEAR UP that is the sweetest thing in the WORLD!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 1 year ago

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@chernayawidow Hey, lovely!! I was so excited to read YOUR thoughts on this! 💓💓

This was a beautiful prompt and the more research I did on breast reduction, the more hyped I got to dive into each of these vignettes with the guys.

Dean thoughts:

I couldn’t help but giggle because ofc Dean is drawn to lace like a moth to a flame 🤣

Oh of course. 😂 This man has base instincts locked and loaded for lace.

I LOVE this thought process, because in their line of work it could honestly be anything! And without context, it’s natural he would think about potential causes! Love it!

Yeah that was my first thought with Dean/SPN world! He's no stranger to scars, but he would question the location of them on her in this situation.

He’s so sweet and tender I’m tearing up 😭💖

It's my headcanon that Dean's a "giver," but we all know he's a soft boi inside, especially once he's caught genuine feelings.

Titty scar gang whoop whoop!! 🤙

Lmfaooo yass queen!! 👸💅

This right here would mean everything to me 😩🫶

Ugh ikr? Dean's just so good. 😩

"Yeah," he smirks. "I got me a little tiger. She's got some pretty stripes." — HELP I’M WHEEZING!!! THIS IS SUCH A DEAN THING TO SAY TOO OH MY GOODNESS!! 🤣 I love him!

Awww so good to hear you say that, because I finessed that line a few times and it didn't feel quite right until I landed on that version. 🤣🤣

Beau thoughts:

“So much so that when he next has you in his arms in the water, and his arms are wrapped around your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck,” — What I would GIVE to be held like this by him 😓

IKR?? 😩😩 That's it, I need more Beau fics in my life.

“So you've accepted this, and don't find cause to hide.” — They’re character development scars, I see it as a metamorphosis 💪 they’re apart of me and my story now.

See, that's intuitively how I thought you would feel about it! You kind of gave me carte blanche in your request on how the reader thought about her scars, so I tried variations on each vignette. This one felt the most true to how I know you so far.

“Beau smiles and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. "What's to be okay with?"” — This right here is the CORRECT response! I love this sm, Beau is literally the sweetest 💖

Beau is absolute sunshine, and he's literally a father. I feel like he'd be the sweet earnest one about it in his response. I can't picture him ever wanting to make someone feel bad about their body, especially his SO. 🥹 (A "real man" indeed!!)

“"Maybe you'll let me get acquainted," he hedges. His voice deepens with southern drawl and flirtation.” — He’s a cheeky bastard, I love this line omg 🤣🫶

And that's the other facet of him I like to headcanon lmao. He's the cheekiest. 😂❤️

“And your knees begin to slide his swim trunks down his hips under the water, at the same time he unties your bikini.” — Zep babe, you’re such a TEASE 😭

Oh hun, we've established this. 🤣🤣

Ben thoughts:

Lmfao this motherfucker here...

Homeboy is the resident slut if we’re being honest 💀

The way I SNORTED. 100% accurate, my friend. 🤣 And that's saying something, because Dean has gotten around himself.

“You're different, however. You're more than that.” — Shucks Benjamin, I was SO much more that I had to cut some of the more-ness off because I was just TOO more 😮‍💨🤙

LMFAO girl I feel you. I'm the plus-sized kinda "more," if he wants it, I certainly got the "more." 🤪

“At first he thought you were shy (or worse, a fucking tease).” — Oh I can be a tease too, but only when I’m spiteful mwahahahahah

Ahaha reminds me of a comment you made on a Beau fic. Like a "slippery snaaake." 🐍

“Or maybe...maybe you were afraid of him.” — Afraid of catching an STD, maybe.

Wheezinggggg. Legitimately lmfao. Or like "Strong as Blood," he'll give you a supe STD. 🤣🤣

“With much effort, Ben controls every impatient, borderline callous remark he wants to make and squeezes your hips.” — And knowing Ben, that’s using a LOT of effort lmaooo!

Literally every cell of patience he has within him. 😂😂

"Just tell me, baby doll. You're not gonna shock me." — Well when you put it like that, I suppose you should know that I cut lots of my tits off 🤷‍♀️

Fucking DEADDD. 💀💀 And he would still be like:

“He just raises his brows at you. "Is that what the fuck you're worried about?" he asks.” — MANS WAS PROBABLY EXPECTING SOMETHING SHOCKING… and then it’s just scars lmao

LOL she did build that up, didn't she? He was definitely expecting something more. 😂

“Then his head bows a little further, and he traces the scars lightly with his tongue.” — Such a Ben thing to do and I adore him for it 😂💖

I thought it was the most fitting response for him. 😏😂

First I just have to thank you so so very much for taking the time to write this, it means everything to me and you really have hit all the right notes 🫶

You don't know how relieved I am! I told you, I was actually a little bit nervous to put this out, because it really is a personal prompt for you and I genuinely wanted to do my best. 💕

I love that you wrote how both young Dean and older Dean would react, and I really enjoyed them both! And they both were SO on point for his character! Young Dean being cute about it by possibly making a little joke and such made me so giddy, and older Dean being more knowledgeable is such a nice touch as well!

I'm so glad you loved that young Dean vs. older Dean bit, because when thinking of him I thought early seasons Dean in his 20s would react much differently to the later seasons Dean in his 40s. Both were fun to contemplate! 💖💖

And Beau? SUCH A SWEETIE PIE! They whole section was just fluffy and made my heart ache with joy! I love baby boy Beau!

I love the crap out of Beau!! He can be so earnest and has a huge heart. I do want to do a series for him soon (hopefully)! 💕

And Ben, lol. Ben's a trip, as you know. 😂

You’ve done an amazing job with this, and once again I just want to say how thankful I am for taking the time to create this beautiful piece of art 💖 thank you thank you thank you so much!

You're so very welcome, my beautiful friend!!

Thank you for calling it "art." 🥹 I try to do my best with every request, but I am genuinely so proud of this one, mostly because it was able to touch you in a personal way. 💕💕

This is very very niche one, but how would Beau, Dean and Ben react to seeing reader has breast reduction scars, and that’s how they find out about it since she never mentioned having one? I won’t be offended if you ignore because again, it’s very specific 🤣🫶

Hello my lovely friend! @chernayawidow

Ooh this is very niche, but I'm okay with that! I love a narrower prompt. It makes it easier to imagine, to be honest. And I can safely say this is the first time I've gotten a request like this. 😘

*cracks knuckles* Here we go!

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ only on this one for some smuttish behavior. Description of surgical scars, body insecurity and body appreciation.

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars.

Dean Winchester

Let's start with Dean...

The first time he spots it is after a hunt, in the room of this week's grungy "motel crap."

He notices the edge of some kind of scar under your breast when he accidentally walks in on you changing.

He only sees it peeking out from the edge of the bra you're trying to hook on. It's black and lacey, and it immediately attracts his attention (in more ways than one).

"Dean!" you gasp. Your face sports a wild blush. "Learn how to knock, damn it!"

Shit! He remembers himself with a shake of his head and a placating hand in the air as he spins away. "Sorry!"

Of course, he's not going to say anything then. He wonders if it was a hunting injury, from before he met you.

He buries that curiosity...until you two finally start dating.

The subject doesn't come up, however, until you have sex for the first time. Dean has you underneath him in his bed. Kisses are feverish, hands exploring each other's bodies like a pair of teenagers making out. He can't lie to himself, he kind of feels giddy like a teenager.

But he notices that you're self-conscious about him getting your shirt off. You almost stop him with your hands on his wrists.

Dean hesitates. His hand are already under the hem of your shirt, but they become more soothing along the curve of your waist.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

Biting your lip, you nod and encourage him to continue. He goes slow, but he eventually takes your bra off, and he sees them.

Faded, pink scars (small circles around the nipple, with an anchor line stemming down the middle of the breast, and a small curve line underneath).

A younger, less mature Dean might not know what to say at first.

He might ask, with a note of caring, "What're these?"

He also might feel the need to lighten the question with a joke (not at your expense), of which you might not appreciate in the moment. And he'd very earnestly apologize.

And he might ask if he can touch the scars, softly tracing the outlines.

You would explain to him that it wasn't a hunting injury, or anything like that.

The answer is simple: You had breast reduction surgery. If you feel comfortable enough with him, you'll share the reasons why. (To reduce your lower back pain, and make it easier on your body to live your life and do your job. And the truth is, you feel better.)

A Dean in his 40s would probably have seen this before, and know what they are. But he'll still be curious on why you did it, because he's curious by nature.

He'll want to make sure you feel comfortable with him, asking you if the scars are still tender, and where you'd prefer to be touched.

But the scars don't faze him.

"I like 'em," he later says, with cheeky green eyes, and his tongue moving lazily between your breasts.

You giggle at that, carding your fingers through his hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirks. "I got me a little tiger. She's got some pretty stripes."

You laugh fully at that, and your body trembles with it underneath him. It makes him smile against your skin.

You're a beautiful woman, and he feels lucky to have this chance to be with you. Not just in your bed, but trying to be together.

Because it's a chance he didn't think he'd ever get to have again.

Beau Arlen

Ah, my Cowboy Sheriff...

He first notices it on the summer you two start dating, when you two go swimming at the lake. It's Montana, so the water is still pretty cold, but you both are too high on the giddy feeling of a budding romance to care.

He sees the edge of a crescent shaped scar under your breast, under the sexy bikini you're rocking. It piques his curiosity, which is already near insatiable at the best of times.

So much so that when he next has you in his arms in the water, and his arms are wrapped around your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck, he gains enough courage to ask you, thumbing gently at the edge of raised flesh on your skin.

"What's this, darlin'?"

You're matter-of-fact about your answer, telling him it's your breast reduction scar. It's also a subtle way you test men.

You can tell a lot about someone's character by the way they react to things like this. Especially when it's something you might've been insecure about at first. But these scars are just a part of your body now. Though they'll fade even more in time, there's a chance they might always be there. So you've accepted this, and don't find cause to hide.

Beau takes your response in with a nod.

"You're...okay with it?" you ask.

Beau smiles and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. "What's to be okay with?"

"Yeah?" you lightly press. You smile at his beard scratching your cheek. You turn your head, and he gives you a proper kiss.

"Of course, sweetheart," Beau says. And he means it.

He's a father. He watched many a change happen to his ex-wife's body over the course of pregnancy, birth, and over a decade later of natural developments with age. He's aged and changed too.

So superficial things like stretch marks and fading scars aren't going to deter him in the slightest from being with you.

His thumb edges around the hem of your bikini, sliding under the tie in the back. His smile grows a bit cheeky, while yours becomes knowingly suspicious.

"Maybe you'll let me get acquainted," he hedges. His voice deepens with southern drawl and flirtation.

Your heart beats faster, and your smile deepens.

"Okay, Sheriff...but only if I get the same privilege." And your knees begin to slide his swim trunks down his hips under the water, at the same time he unties your bikini.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Aw geez, this cheeky motherfucker...

Ben would easily be the most unfazed.

This man's gotten "around," so to speak. He's pretty much seen it all in his 102 years of pussy plowing. (Minus 40.)

You're different, however. You're more than that.

You were the first one to treat him like an actual person when he made it out of Russia, back to the States, back to New York, after dealing with Homelander and ending that piece of shit at Vought Tower.

While the whole world either looked at him like an oddity or a terrorist, you saw a man, displaced from everything he had known.

A man entirely alone.

Until you.

Still, it took all the patience he had within him to even get you to agree to date him. And you were cautious about physical intimacy. At first he thought you were shy (or worse, a fucking tease).

Or maybe...maybe you were afraid of him.

"It's not that," you tell him firmly. You feel comfortable and safe in his arms. You look up into his eyes, and he can't help but kiss you. You cling to him tightly, like you're starved for touch. His touch.

He sits down on the edge of his living room couch and brings you down with him, to straddle his thighs. You take his face into your gentle hands and briefly look down at him with a smile.

He sees things in your eyes that he's never seen from a woman before. Softness. Genuine caring. Maybe even something deeper.

But you tense up a little, the second his hands venture under the hem of your blouse.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He can't fucking figure you out. You seem to be into him (and more), but you don't want him to touch you.

You hesitate. "It's just...um..."

With much effort, Ben controls every impatient, borderline callous remark he wants to make and squeezes your hips.

"Just tell me, baby doll. You're not gonna shock me."

You smile at the sight of his grin. You let out a breath and take off your blouse yourself. Ben eyes you hungrily as you bare yourself to him.

You unclip your bra and his eyes are drawn to your breasts...and then the scars. Just like you feared they would be.

But he doesn't look disgusted or put off. He just raises his brows at you.

"Is that what the fuck you're worried about?" he asks.

Your throat constricts for a moment as you rest your hands on his chest. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the fitted shirt.

Ben dips his chin and catches your downturned gaze. Then his head bows a little further, and he traces the scars lightly with his tongue.

Your breath hitches. Your eyes widen as you watch him, but pleasure tingles delicately down your spine and across your skin as his tongue swirls around a nipple. He lifts you up higher against him so he has easier access. All you can do is cling to his arms, sink your fingers into his hair, and moan wantonly as he ravishes your body.

By the end of the night, he knocks every single insecurity out of your head. (And you both sleep soundly, fully sated in his bed.)

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Feel like my fingers ran a marathon. I got into this one deeper than I thought I would! I hope it hit all the right notes. 💕💕

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW, BA & SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

#you're so welcome! 💓💓#reader appreciation #comment reblog #lovely mutuals

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years ago

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I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)

#angel reyes #angel reyes x black!reader #black!reader #plus size reader #angel reyes x black!plus size!reader #hhgbyebruh fics #i know what you're thinking you're on my mind

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

In Name Only - Part 16

A/N: Hi, hi, hi! I’m finally back with some more of Oberyn and his Sunshine! I’ve missed them so much, and I hope you’re all excited for more as I am! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, violence, slight language

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Those are so pretty," Saria chirped excitedly as she reached up and touched one of the newly bloomed flowers. It was brilliant shades of yellow and orange, creating the illusion of a sunset. You nodded in agreement before delicately plucking the blossom and tucking it behind her ear.

"And now the prettiest girl has the prettiest flower," you told her as she beamed at you. She giggled wildly before touching the flower and running to join the Dorea and Loreza who were busy playing in a different part of the garden. They'd come to stay for a while at Sunspear and you were more than happy to keep them as long as they wanted.

"And what about you?" you turned to Altair who was intently observing a different flower, “which is your favorite?"

"I like this one best I think,” he commented thoughtfully as he touched over a dark red flower, one that was native to Dorne - hardy and resilient, just like its people. It almost reminded you of a rose, but what with a bit.

“That’s one of my favorites too,” you agreed as you pulled one of the hardiest blossoms off and held it out for him, “do you want to know why?”

“Why?” he asked, his dark eyes wide and glittering with excitement. You couldn’t help but ruffle his dark hair, an affectionate smile on your face.

“My husband planted them for me,” you explained, thinking back to the day you had found Oberyn in the gardens, hard at work by himself planting the flowers as a surprise for you. He was many things, but a green thumb he did not possess, unlike you. But he had been so proud and excited to show them to you, his hands covered with little cuts from the harsh thrones and thick stalks, “and they remind me of Dorne - home. Strong, beautiful, and welcoming to those who treat it right.”

“Can I keep it?” he asked quietly as you nodded. He threw his little arms around your waist and you bent down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “I’m going to go and show the others!”

Before you could even get a word in edgewise, he was gone, off to join his sister and the younger girls. You crossed your arms over your chest, a content sigh escaped your lips as you picked up your watering can to continue tending to your flourishing garden. But you were once again estopped by a warm of arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to make a small sound of surprise.

“Hello, my sweetest sunshine,” Oberyn’s voice was like golden honey in your ears as he pressed a kiss to your neck, “how I have missed you.”

“And a hello to you my moon and stars,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you put your hands on top of his, deftly spinning around in his arms before facing him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “it has been what...about five hours since we parted ways for the afternoon? I hardly think you’d had adequate time to miss me.”

“I always miss you when we’re not together,” he insisted, playfully pouting at you, “the insinuation that I should feel anything but wounds me so, dear wife.”

“Oh stop,” you swatted at his chest before he pulled you towards him, “you are a fool of a Prince. Besides, I for one have not missed you!”

“Oh?” he teased, his eyebrow arching as you broke into a fit of giggles, “I spy a little liar.”

“You’ve caught me,” you acquiesced, “but alas, I have been busy with the garden and these little ones constantly under foot. Loreza is a little trouble maker, just like her father. But Dorea is as steadfast as her mother. A lethal little duo.”

“Ahh, they have learned well,” he snorted as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you as he watched the four young children running around and playing, the wistful look on your face not lost on you, “the twins seem to enjoy spending time with them.”

“They do,” you agree, biting on your lower lip, “I k-know we’re not supposed to play favorites, but they just...they’re special to me.”

“And they adore you just as well.”

“They adore you,” you insisted with a laugh, “the prince of legend! The lethal, ever deadly Red Viper.”

“I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“I know your bark is worse than your bite,” you insisted as you kissed him, cutting him off before he could argue, “it is not wise to argue with your wife.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, “will you take a turn about the gardens with me? There are some things we should discuss..”

You knew it wouldn’t be anything bad, there was no reason for it to be, but a lump still welled up in your throat. Such things always made you nervous, especially since the majority of the times you’d been asked to speak in such a manner only bad news followed. But judging by the light smile on his face, you knew it would be okay.

The past month, almost two, had been a whirlwind, especially when it came to helping Oberyn get closer and closer to be back to perfect health again. It had hardly allotted you many moments to talk properly. He grew stronger and stronger each day, and it some ways it was almost like nothing had happened at all. But you knew - you remembered. It was always in the back of your mind, reminding you that your family was the cause of this. You still needed to talk about it, but you’d never found the right time. But as you looked into those soft brown eyes, you decided it could wait. For now, all that mattered was this.

He offered you his arm and you looped yours through his, allowing him to dictate the course. It was silent for a few moments, not but the sounds of the fountains, chirps of birds, and the sounds of laughter reaching your ears.

“I’ve been thinking…” he started slowly, “and before you say anything, I do realize it is a rare occasion!”

“I would say no such thing,” you promised with a wink as he just shook his head in amusement, “please my prince, do tell me what has been weighing on your mind.”

“It’s…” he paused before exhaling slowly, “the twins.”

“The t-twins? What about them?” you tried to rack your brain for something that you could have possibly done wrong with them, “I haven’t…”

“It is nothing in the negative,” he must have sensed your worry without you even having to do anything. You visibly relaxed as you nodded and waited for him to go on, “I note that you’ve grown ever closer to them, you spend much time with them at your side.”

“I know we are not..to play favorites,” you answered nervously, “I fear I must have been doing a horrible job of that.”

“And your actions are not at fault,” he insisted, as you offered him a confused look, “I know we talked before...about children...”

“I can’t have children,” you interrupted him, answering his silent question. You kept your gaze pointed straight ahead, attempting your best to conceal your emotions. Oberyn’s gaze was trained intently on you, his expression soft. It wasn’t often that he was rendered speechless, but this turned out to be one of those rare moments, “I speak with the maester when we returned from Starfall and you were gone in King’s Landing.”

“Oh,” was his simple answer as you nodded, “and she…”

“There’s no way to be completely certain,” you said softly, “but there are ways to be almost certain, as certain as one can get. And it seems that the odds are not in my favor.”

“You said there is no way to completely certain,” he insisted, “there’s still a chance, and if you should want, we can always try...”

“No, Oberyn,” you stopped in your tracks as you pulled him towards you, a hand going to his jaw before you ran a hand through his dark curls, “it does not matter, my love. I am happy, so happy. Nothing makes me happier than you, I swear it. You, the girls, Ellaria, the rest of the family, we have so much already. There’s nothing for me left to want.”

You had hoped that saying the words out loud would somehow make them more true, more real. But they still hurt, cutting deep.

“You deserve the world, my sunshine,” he promised, kissing the top of your head, “whatever you desire you shall have it.”

“I’m afraid that nothing will give this to me...us, not even all the gold in the Seven Kingdoms,” you offered him a small smile, “now, tell me, what you were going to say before I so rudely interrupted you.”

“The twins,” he said, cradling your face in his hands, “I realize this might be a bit unconventional, but what do you say about bringing them in our family? Adopting them?”

“A-adopting them?” you weren’t quite sure what you were hearing as the word tumbled from your mouth. Looking at Oberyn, you opened and closed your mouth a few times, tilting your head to the side as you tried to figure out what was happening. He was watching you with a small smile, waiting for you to realize what he had said, “Oberyn? D-do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he said softly, “I would not joke about such a matter. I know...it is unconventional and not very common, but I would like to bring them into our family. By convention, they would not be recognized as Martells in other parts of the Kingdoms, but in Dorne it would not matter. It-”

“Does not matter at all,” you finished for him as he nodded in agreement, “it is not the name that makes the person, the quality of their heart - their actions.”

“If only the rest of the world thought as we did,” he gave you a fond smile before pulling you into his arms, “but what do you think?”

“Oberyn…” you looked back up at him, your eyes already misty with tears as you nodded at him. You knew you wanted this - not because your dreams of baring your own children were gone, but because you loved them, truly. And you wanted nothing more than to bring them into your family, your family that had nothing but love and kindness to give.

Oberyn seemed to know what you were thinking, because he quickly wiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He paused for a moment and rested his forehead against yours as he held you tightly in his grip, “everything is going to be alright, my love. Please don’t think ill of the situation...no one is to blame, absolutely no one. And you know my love for you will never change or waver, never. Things will work out as they are meant to, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, hearing his words but failing to process them in the moment, overwhelmed by emotion, “I’m sorry, my love. I-I...I can’t even give you a child of our own. I’m such a -”

“Stop,” he whispered softly, his heart breaking a little at your anguish. He wrapped his arms tightly around you as you buried your face in his chest, tears soaking into the fabric of his tunic. You knew it was silly to get so upset, especially since you thought you’d come to terms with this, and you knew Oberyn wouldn’t be upset, “I know this means nothing coming from me, but i will be okay. I swear it. I will do whatever it takes to get you to understand that.”

“You’ll still love me?” you asked softly as he chuckled warmly and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I will always love you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that,” he promised, and you relaxed slightly, “my love for you knows no bounds. And you have my heart and soul. Completely and fully.”

“I love you,” you whispered, “so much.”

“And I you,” he responded, “and I’ve got one more bit of good news for you. I know it’s not much, but I’m hoping that perhaps it will at least bring a smile to that pretty face.”

“You’ve given me nothing good news and love,” you laughed at your foolishness as you pulled back from him, “and I give you nothing but theatrics. What else could you possibly have for me?”

“Have you ever considered traveling across the Narrow Seas?” your eyebrows immediately shot up at his question as he seemed to be holding back a gleeful grin.

“I can’t say it’s really crossed my mind…” you admitted, “what lies there that has you asking?”

“Essos,” he answered, “the King needs an envoy to go to make the journey and ensure that plans and laws that were instilled by Daenerys still stand.”

“And he asked you to go?” your heart immediately grew worried and nervous as your eyes darted to his side, the spot concealed by his tunic where he still bore the scars of the stabbing that your brother had inflicted on him. You were reluctant to let him leave again, especially anywhere out of Dorne, “a-are you sure, Oberyn? I don’t know if that’s the best idea…”

“You worry?”

“Of course I worry,” you insisted, “there are enemies everywhere, as you have said many times. I couldn’t even trust my own flesh and blood. The last time you left, you almost….and Essos? That’s half a world away…”

“I would not go with your blessing,” he promised as he put his hand on your cheek, “nor would I go without you. It’s a large and wondrous world, and I think it would suit you. Essos and the Summer Isles are some of the most beautiful places in the world.”

“You want me to go with you?” you asked hopefully as he nodded.

“What is this old fool without his wife next to him?” he teased, “besides, I was told that I could not venture into the world without you...I think it would be quite dull without my sunshine. I would not let anything happen to you.”

“Nor I you,” you promised, knowing you would cut down any man or woman that even breathed wrong in his direction, “you’re serious about this? You’re sure it will be safe?”

“Yes,” he insisted, “and yes. We won’t be going alone. The retinue will come, as well some other Lords from around the Kingdoms. Honestly, I doubt it will take much work from our end...it will be more of a vacation than anything else.”

“You’re sure about this?” your words were gentle and soft as put your hand on his chest, “positive?”

“I am,” he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “what do you say?”

“For you?” resting your hand on his cheek, you brushed a finger over his cheekbone, “I would do anything and go anywhere. Yes. Let’s do this.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Diplomatic ventures had always seemed so....droll. Plagued by aged and old fashioned men who claimed to know what was best for their people, who claimed to know what people wanted but did everything but. Naturally there were exceptions, such as your father, and it wouldn’t be fair to lump all men into the same category. But from your childhood trips along with Lord Beesbury, your hopes were not high that this would be any different.

But you should have known better because like with most things, Oberyn was able to turn into a pleasant adventure. Along with the shift of having a Stark King on the Iron Throne accompanied by the Queen in the North, things were...different. Gone were the stilted and old ways, slowly morphing into workable and tangible - change.

What you were sure was destined to be nothing but boring roundtables without anything productive being done, turned out to be the opposite. Men, and women, of different backgrounds and creed came together to work for the people, not just their people but all people. It was something to marvel at and instilled a sense of hope in you.

Hope that Oberyn’s children, your children, would grow up in a world where things would be different from your youth, where they would not have opportunities denied to them because of their birth, their origin, or the truths and beliefs they held. Things would never be perfect, but they would be better and that was enough to carry you forward.

Watching Oberyn, not just your husband or the Prince, but a man of his people - the people - in action was a treat unto of itself. Eloquent and well spoken as ever, he carried himself with an ease and comfort that you could only wish to obtain a fraction of. He was never loud or over the top, but his tranquility and calm aura did not let you forget that he was still as deadly as the rumors suggested.

This was a man that spoke in prose as lovely as roses but sharp as hawthorne. A man that would charm and persuade to see his ways, but would not hesitate to cut you down if necessary. The duality of Oberyn Martell was a gift to behold, and somehow it still stunned you that you were in the very center of his universe. But somehow you were, his sunshine that brightened every facet of his life while he was your moon and stars, grounding you and keeping you safe and sound.

“What?” Oberyn’s voice was warm and gravely, still heavy and thick with sleep as he opened his eyes to find you watching him closely. A warmth flooded into your face as you attempted to burrow your face into the pillow; you hadn’t expected him to wake up and just wanted to study his features while he slept. You’d done it a million times before, or so it seemed, and you wanted to do it a million times more. There was something about how calm and at ease he looked while his broad chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His chocolate curls were mussed and wild, practically calling for you to comb throw as his plush lips were drawn in the lightest of smiles. He was just so...golden; drawing you in like nothing else mattered.

The soft, warm air of the Summer Isles was coming in through the windows which you had left open the evening before, perfuming the air with the faint smell of the salty ocean. You’d had a late evening before and were in no rush to get up, despite the fact that you knew he had duties to attend to. There was something about the comfort and safety of waking up in his bed, your, bed that always kept you wanting to stay tangled up with him.

“Nothing,” you insisted as you opened one eye and peeked at him, watching the corners of his mouth tug up. He laughed lightly before his strong arm found you under the covers and pulled you closer to him. A contented sigh escaped your lips as his fingers traced aimless, gentle shapes into your back. You closed the small gap and pressed your lips against his, feeling him smile against your as he chased after you with a few kisses of your own, “Oberyn.”

“Yes?” he teased as he kissed long your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin in a way that he knew would leave marks, “tell me what’s on your mind or I’ll stop.”

“Such a tease,” you huffed tightly as you tugged on his soft curls, “I was just thinking about you.”

“About me? Whatever for?” he seemed genuinely surprised and pulled back for a moment, which allowed you to take advantage of the situation. You pushed him flat on his back as you rolled on top of him, your bare body flush against his. He almost laughed when he realized what you had done, one of his large hands going to your bum and giving it a firm squeeze, which elicited a soft sigh from you, “cheeky girl.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you kissed him, “I was just thinking about all the ways in which I love you, which, in case I haven’t reminded you lately, are infinite. But now, I’m thinking about something far different.”

“Oh?” he pressed your forehead against his as he held you with a vice grip, “and what would that be?”

“How much I want you,” it was a gentle, breathy whisper in his arms as you kissed the shell of his ear before working your way back to your lips, “my moon and stars.”

“Then take what you need, sweet girl. I am all yours,” he promised, “body and soul. Besides, I quite like you on top. A sight to be marveled at it, that even the finest art could never capture in essence.”

“Always a poet,” you flourished under his praise as your hands roamed his body, “almost as lovely as watching you come undone, Oberyn Martell. Now, don’t hold back, my love, let them all hear you…”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Be safe,” Oberyn whispered against your lips before slowly pulling away. It was endearing to know he was so concerned about your safety, despite the fact that the Summer Isles were one of the safest places to be. You nodded slowly before sneaking in another kiss and smoothing down the soft fabric of his bronze tunic. He was handsome as ever, and despite the fact that you were dressed in a soft, breezy gown of your own, you knew you would never match his beauty.

“I will,” you promised, “I’m just going to explore the markets, maybe go to the ocean, nothing dangerous at all. Besides, I think I found something that the girls will like and I want to get it for them if it’s still there.”

“Do you want-”

“Oberyn,” you insisted firmly, but with a soft tone nonetheless, “I will be fine. I can handle myself, and besides, Jeron’s taught me a few tricks for the times I should be parted from you, in the off chance I need them. It should be me worrying about you. Politicians and Lords are the real snakes here after all, remind them who the Red Viper is, remind them that you are the Prince.”

“I should know better than to worry about you,” he said with a small laugh, “I will see you this evening for dinner then. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you grinned at him before gently pushing on his chest and back towards the building in which all of these so called important meetings had been happening, “now go and get your work done. I don’t want to keep you away!”

“Wait,” he ducked after you and reached for your hand, despite the fact that you had just turned away from.

“What?” a look of surprise coloring your features as he brought your hand to his lips and delicately kissed your knuckles, “Oberyn!”

“I missed you the moment you turned away,” he said softly, as you just shook your head at him, “until your paths cross again, sweet girl.”

“You are a fool of a man,” you teased as you let him be the one to walk away. He turned and gave you one last look before crossing the threshold and giving you a soft smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and a fire pool in your belly.

Staring at the spot he had previously occupied, you let a small sigh before walking away, ready to take on your own leisurely day. The island of Jhala was a beautiful place, filled with kind souls and beautiful scenery. You’d never seen any place like it before, but you already knew a piece of your heart would remain here even long after you were back in Dorne. Hopefully Oberyn would not be opposed to coming back soon.

You’d even made a few friends during your extended stay, finding the people welcoming and open, much more than most people in Westeros and they’d even taught some of their language, simply dubbed the Summer Tongue.

As you walked through the bustling marketplace, your eyes came across glittering jewels of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, fabric of the brightest tones and colors, arts and sculptures, and anything else you could possibly imagine. You made it a point to find something special for everyone back home, including all of the girls, and the twins you’d soon be calling your own. The hunt for something special for Oberyn was proving to be the most challenging of all as you tried to pick your brain for what to get him. Anything that had crossed your mind, he had in turn picked out and gotten himself, he already had, or was something that just wasn’t quite it. But you’d kept your eyes peeled anyway.

So peeled, in fact, that you didn’t watch where you were going and walked right into someone. A small oof escaped your lips as you looked and found a little girl with bright, eager eyes watching you eagerly. She was gorgeous, skin almost as dark as the richest chocolate, with hair that was intricately styled in braids you learned were traditional to the people of Jhala. Her dress was feathered, a brilliant symphony of greens and reds as she grinned at you, completely untroubled or phased by the fact that you almost bowled her over.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” you offered an apologetic smile and looked her over to make sure she was okay, “I should have been watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she chirped back in your tongue, “we’ve been expecting you!”

“Expecting...me?” you asked as she reached for your hand, and started to pull you away from the crowd. Nothing but a cloud of confusion hung over you as you followed the young girl; you were nervous or scared, but you were intrigued, “who’s been expecting me?”

But she didn’t say anything else, instead pulling you near a small back alley where there were almost no people, just a few here and there milling about. When she seemingly reached her destination, she dropped your hand as you studied your surroundings. Strange, you thought to yourself, I’ve never seen this before.

“Hey-” you turned back to your mysterious little friend but found...nothing. There wasn’t even so much a single disturbance in the air to suggest that anyone had been there or moved away rapidly...there was nothing. A huff of air escaped your lips as you turned and did a spin to just to make sure no one was there; surely you didn’t mind all of that? No, you couldn’t have....you were positive you could still feel the touch of her small hand in yours. It was like a direct call back to your encounter with the mysterious woman in the woods, but this you were sure was real.

“Hello?” your voice sounded small and diminutive in the large open alleyway, reverbing off the stone walls. No response met your ears but you were positive that you heard your name being whispered softly, calling to you and drawing you in. You were like a moth to a flame as you walked along the cobblestones to the place you were being drawn to, “hello?”

You stopped in front of what appeared to be a small little shop that smelled deliciously of warm spices. Flowers decorated the small window and doors, immediately giving you a sense of warmth and ease. Pushing aside the curtain made of hanging beads and jewels, you slowly stepped inside and looked around. The small space was lit up from the golden sunlight streaming in from the window and softly flickering candles. A small table and two chairs, both looking soft and cozy were in the center of the room, the rest of the space occupied by trinkets from what you assumed were around the world.

“Lady Martell,” the voice was warm and richly accented as you turned and found yourself looking at yet another new person. She offered you a warm smile before coming over and holding her hand out to you; there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you reached over and took it, giving it a firm shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

“How do you...know my name?” you asked as she led you to the table and pulled a car for you to sit in. You sat down and watched her intently as she busied herself with making tea. You tensed for a moment as you flashed back to the tea that had once been presented to you with a most devious intention. But you didn’t think this would be anything like that. She took a few moments, humming under her breath before coming back to you and placing it in front of you before and taking a seat.

“There is no need to worry,” she insisted, “everyone knows who you are. The Prince’s wife, of course. He’s always a welcome sight here as is anyone with him.”

“Oh,” you laughed at yourself, “of course. Sometimes I forget that my husband is such...a prolific figure.”

“As you should,” she said with a warm smile, “he is no stranger to you, but your partner, your lover, your friend - just another person in your life. But to us, he is a man of myth and legend.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “that is he is. Do you...umm...do you happen to have a young girl? I bumped into her and then was gone…”

“Acacia,” she sighed with a smile on her face as a sense of relief washed over you and you realized that you most definitely were not crazy or imagining things, but she had been a real, tangible little girl, “she’s a wily, sneaky little thing sometimes. Here one moment and then gone the next, and almost impossible to keep track of. I wish I could have even a fraction of her energy.”

“She was there one moment and then gone the next,” you told her, “I thought I might have imagined the whole thing.”

“No worries,” she promised, “she’s something else...but I find that people often land where they’re supposed to be at the right time.”

“I…” you mulled over her words as you drank some of the tea; it was sweet with a hint of a spice, but delicious, “I suppose they do.”

“What troubles you?”

“I’m sorry?” you almost choked on the tea as you set it back down. You looked around and tried to put together who the mysterious woman was when it hit you, she was likely some of...something. You were unsure if there was even a proper label for it, “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“You appear happy,” she said as you nodded, “but I can tell there is something underlying...there is something in your eyes that suggests a deep sense of unhappiness.”

“What?” you asked as you almost laughed in her face. Of course you were happy, you had no reason not to be...your life was practical bliss… “I am happy, so happy. I-I have everything and then some…”

“That may be so, but one can still experience unhappiness,” you swallowed thickly as you shifted in your seat, “but you have to be honest with yourself...what plagues you? What keeps you up at night?”

You wanted to argue with her and tell her she was wrong, but in that moment you just couldn’t. Instead, your eyes welled up and stung as you stared at the table, playing with the delicate lace of the fabric that covered it. You closed and opened your mouth a few times as a few warm, salty tears filled down your cheeks. You had thought, you were sure, that you had been able to conceal your emotions so well, that everything was in check, but apparently you had been very, very wrong. All the feelings you thought were resolved were apparently very much unresolved.

“Umm,” she handed you a handkerchief which you used to dab at your eyes, “it’s...gods, I feel silly being so worried and still ruminating on this, but my husband...he was injured at the hands of my family, my brother specifically. Oberyn told me to let it go, that things would be resolved, but I can’t just let it go...I can’t forgive them for what they did to him. He almost died, I stayed by his side as he clung to life, and he wants to let it go.”

“And you don’t want to do that?”

“No,” you insisted sharply, “I don’t. My entire life I have been the black sheep, the scorn of the family. I have had so many things taken from me, and I refuse to let them take more. I don’t...I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to Oberyn...I would....I cannot fathom it. But I can’t let it go and let them think they can do this. Oberyn thinks it’s better to let it go and not stir up trouble, but this isn’t like nicking some chocolate. They wanted to kill him and they almost did. I want them to know what they did, to experience the pain I did.”

“And what would you do to them?”

“I would make them suffer, the same cruel harshness that Oberyn had to go through,” you said through gritted teeth, almost surprising yourself with such harshness. You’d had these thoughts swirling in your mind since you had first discovered the truth from Jeron, but to hear out loud like this was another story, “I want them to know what I went through. And I want to know why. Why can’t they just let us alone and experience our own happiness? Oberyn went to them with peaceful intentions, asking almost nothing of them, but they couldn’t let it go.”

“Every action has a consequence, you understand this, yes?” she asked as you downed the rest of your teeth, studying the grit at the bottom of the cup “

“Action-Reaction,” you concluded with a nod, “I won’t do anything that will cause trouble. There is no reason to incite a war, which my husband has reminded me of many times. He worries too much about me sometimes, I think. He wants to protect me, I know he does, but sometimes I want to protect him too. And I know that I would have all of Dorne support me in this, he is their Prince! The Stark King would make them see reason and realize their actions will not go unpunished.”

“Does their violence necessarily mean you should respond in kind?”

“I....” you paused as you mulled over her words as you realized she had a point, “I don’t know. There’s a million different ways to look at this, but I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. I just know...I can’t let them do this without saying something.”

“And have you told Oberyn about all of this?”

“Yes - in passing,” you sighed lightly, “and he’s fervent in his request to keep things civil and let them go.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No.”

“You should express this to him,” she took your cup and swirled the two drops of liquid around as she looked at the grit, making a small sound in the back of her throat, “the two of you will be able to work things out and see eye to eye.”

“He’s insistent.”

“And you shall be just as insistent back,” she suggest as you nodded, “make sure he knows that you do not want to let this go and that you want words at least. That you at least want to express your grief to your family.”

“And if he shall not agree?”

“Remember who you are,” she said softly, “before you became a wife, before you became a Martell. Remember your roots and that you are not to be trifled with. You were strong then too, and now you need to remember that. What were your words?”

“Before Our String.”

“What are your words now?”

“Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.”

“Remember those,” she took your hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, “remember that you are strong, with or without your husband. Don’t do things in haste either, but do not allow yourself or your feelings to get pushed around either.”

“I won’t,” you promised softly, “I am not just Oberyn’s wife, I am so much more than that. I will...I will have what I want.”

“Everything,” she whispered as she pushed the cup back at you and motioned for you to look inside, “everything you want will be yours.”

“Everything?” you whispered as you looked into the cup and tried to see what she was seeing. Your voice cracked slightly as you knew she meant so much more than just your issue with your family. I…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you gave her a small smile as you pushed the cup back at her and cleared your throat to keep from crying, “I can’t...I have everything I want.”

“This world, here and back in your home, is strange and mysterious. Sometimes it is best not to question things and let them work out as they were intended,” she shrugged lightly as you felt as confused as ever, “have faith in yourself and the universe.”

“I have faith in things I know, things I can touch and see,” you shrugged lightly, “I don’t know about the rest.”

“Exactly,” she stood up as she gathered your cup and hers, “we don’t know and perhaps we’re not supposed to.

“I don’t understand…”

“Mama!” Acacia poked her into the shop and offered you both a gap toothed grin. You stood up and brushed off your dress before walking towards the door. You gave the young girl a small hug before turning back to her mother.

“Thank you,” you told her softly, “I realize I still don’t know most things, but I do know some. I do know I love my husband and I will go to the ends of the world for him, but I also know I refuse to let things go without a fight.”

“You are well on your way, young one,” she insists as you give her a smile, “things happen as they are supposed to.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “thank you for your help.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oberyn!” by the time you reached the small villa you were staying in, Oberyn had already been back for some time and he was sitting out in the garden, a book perched on his lap as there often was. He didn’t even hesitate to close it and toss it onto the table as you rushed over to him, throwing yourself in his arms as he stood up to meet you, “my love.”

“You are very energetic this afternoon,” he beamed as he picked you up in his arms and spun you around gently setting you and offering you another kiss, “did you have a good day?”

“I missed you,” you told him, reaching up and threading a hand through his curls, “I always miss you when you’re not with me. But yes, I did. I have a very eventful afternoon. How was...business?”

“Business as always was...business. Nothing terribly exciting, and as always my day would have been better at your side,” he touched your cheek gently, “was the market nice?”

“Very,” you promised, “Oberyn, you know I love you more than anything, right?”

“Of course,” he gave you a curious look as one of his eyebrows perked up, “you have never given me a single reason to doubt that. And I feel the same, of course. Tell me, what brings about this sudden declaration?”

“I want you to know. That no matter what ever happens, silly disagreements and bickering, should they happen, you will always be my moon and stars,” you told him and a mildly concerned expression crossed his features, “there’s nothing to worry about my love. But I also...we need to talk.”

“And whatever is so serious that it requires this level of commitment to speaking?”

“I think you know, Oberyn,” you put your hands on his shoulders, “we’ve ignored the issue since it came up and passed, and I...I don’t think I’ve had my fair say.”

“The issue is over and done,” he immediately picked up on what you were talking about, “there’s no reason to dwell on things that are over and done with.”

“That’s just it, it’s not done,” you insisted softly, “not to me. Oberyn, please just listen to me and hear me out…”

“No,” it was a firm statement, laced with a sharp bite as he stared firmly into your eyes. It was the first time he had ever said it to you in such a manner, “this is over and you....we are letting it go.”

“Oberyn,” you pulled back and gave him a hurt expression, one that immediately caused him to regret his decision to speak in even a likely harsh tone, “I...we should be able to talk about this…”

“I respect that you have feelings about this, and that they differ from mine,” he promised, “but I don’t think you understand the gravitas of acting upon what happened.”

“I do too! They hurt you, Oberyn. They were going to kill you!”

“And they didn’t,” he held up his hand as if trying to end the conversation then and there, “I know it’s hard to accept, but sometimes inaction is the best response.”

“It’s not...no. I understand exactly what you’re saying, but I don’t think doing nothing is the right response.”

“No,” it was harsh and final, “you are but a child when it comes to affairs of the kind! You know nothing about them. We are not going to do anything and that is final. You will listen to what I say and we are not discussing this further.”

“Oberyn…” you blinked at him a few times, trying to keep your tears from spilling over. He’d never yelled at you before. He let out a long, heavy sigh as he looked at the ground, already angry that he had spoken to you in such a manner The last thing he ever wanted was for you to cry because of him. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you turned away from him with a small nod, “okay. I understand…”

“Sunshine,” it was soft, reverent whisper as he reached for your hand. But this time, for the first time, you didn’t let him take it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a manner.”

“It is no matter,” you lied as your lips trembled with cries that you tried to keep quiet, “like you said, I don’t understand these matters. I am but a child and don’t understand these types of things. “

“Please, my sweet girl, listen to me-”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Oberyn.”

With that you walked away from him, hastily wiping at your eyes as he stared after you, unsure of what to do. His shoulders slumped as he regretted every word. He only wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harshness of the world, and yet he was the one that had hurt you.

That was going to be the first and last time, he quickly decided, he’d make sure there was never a single tear from you ever again.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only #ino #got

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x-ladyathena-x · 3 years ago

Text

Free

Dean Winchester x Reader

Multi-POV (mostly reader POV with some Dean POV mixed in for clarity and understanding of the situation)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fluffy Smut, Smutty Smut, idiots in love

Word count: 4k - Buckle in, it’s a long one! (that’s what she said?)

Summary: An evening at the bunker planning your next hunt takes a romantic & steamy turn as you and Dean confess your feelings for each other.

You’d just finished a hunt and made it back to the bunker. Tired and exhausted, you see Dean at his computer, probably researching the next job.

“Welcome back, Sunshine!” he yells across the massive room, eyes never leaving his computer screen.

You roll your eyes at the pet name, but laugh at the same time. “Smartass.” You mumble under your breath at him.

“Aww, you’re the sweetest, y/n” Dean smirks at you with his goofy fake cheesy grin.

After a little playful banter back and forth, you unload your gear and slump down into a chair at the table that Dean is sitting at with his laptop.

“whew! I’m beat.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean Drains the last bit of the beer he’d been sipping on and gets up for another. He holds up his empty bottle, “want one?”

“yeah, grab me one too.” You say, thinking about the ice-cold deliciousness awaiting you.

Dean walked back to where you were seated. You’d pulled out your laptop by this point and had started running a map spread.

He walked up, opened your beer for you and presented it to you like a waiter in a fancy restaurant would present a bottle of Champaign. “Your beverage, ma’am.” Dean says with a slight bow.

You laugh and take the beer. While you throw your head back, savoring that first sip, you don’t notice Dean watching you with a little smile on his face from having made you laugh.

You set your beer down. “Ok, come look at this.” You say. You’ve got the map pulled up on your screen.

Dean comes up behind you. He places one arm on the back of your chair, the other balancing his weight on the table. You’re acutely aware of how close he is to you. Your body stills. The world around you slows, moving in slow motion. You can feel him hovering right over your shoulder and it feels like an electric charge coursing through your skin.

You swallow. “Right here.” You say, pointing to the screen. “we’ve got intel on vamp nests; here, here, there, and way over here. I think we should begin with this one.” You say pointing to the blue dot. “But I’m not sure when we should hit the others.”

Dean leans forward. He moves his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder. His fingers graze the skin of your exposed neck. He points to the screen with the other hand. “Well green would definitely make sense to hit after blue. But, as for red and yellow? Shouldn’t make much of a difference which of those we hit after that.” His hand was still on your shoulder and he gave it a quick squeeze. “See? Easy as pie!”

He stopped, hesitating, and looked down at where his hand was. His eyes suddenly became hungry.

Dean slowly began trailing his fingers along the exposed skin on your neck. You leaned into his touch, his hands – his hands! You could feel the strength and power in them at their touch. Oh, that rough touch. It set every molecule in your body humming. When you let out a small groan of pleasure, you could have sworn you felt deans body waver for a moment.

Gently, he moves a wisp of hair that had fallen down the nape of your neck. Taking his time, he allowed his fingers to brush through your hair, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shudder and bring in a short gasp of breath at the light, deliberate touch. Gah… this man could bring you to your knees with one touch. Just melt you into a puddle.

Umm, wake up, y/n! you think to yourself. You’re a badass hunter. Humans and creature alike literally fear your name! And here you are melting at the touch of (of all people) Dean effin Winchester… Ugh, get it together, y/n!

You’d never told anyone but you actually really liked Dean. A lot. He’d been on your mind more than usual lately. Maybe it was all the time you two had been spending together? He was fun and funny. And Charming… Oh yea, charming. So charming he just loved charming his way into the pants of every girl he met. You felt your teeth clench at the thought.

Am I jealous? Is this jealousy? You think to yourself. Jealous… jealous of what? Nothing. Something? You didn’t know why you felt that way. Dean wasn’t yours, after all. You knew he only saw you as a friend. Someone to joke around with, hang out with on your days off. He’s made moves on other girls. If he were interested in you, he’d have tried to make a move already. But he hadn’t. Just a little light hearted flirting, but you knew that was his personality. So that’s that. But- but, this?

What was this? What was happening right now?

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, resting his forehead against your hair. A deep sigh and the soft flutter of eyelashes tells you that he closed his eyes as he breathes in your scent.

Was this it? Was he making his move? The feel of his face nuzzled in your neck lit a fire burning in your belly. Him. You wanted him. Needed him. And his body language suggested that he wanted you just as bad.

“Dean...” you say breathlessly.

“y/n, I- “

The sound of your name brings you back to your senses somehow.

Making his move. You think to yourself. On you? Who does he think you are?! Some tramp from the bar? How can this man both infuriate and arouse you all at the same time?! This was starting to feel like an emotional roller coaster that you wanted to get off of.

You clear your throat and decide to lay down the law. You needed to let him know that playing around wasn’t your thing. And, of all people, he should know that about you, ugh.

“I’m not one of your conquests. Another one-nighter. So, if that’s what you’re after, you can pump the breaks before you start any of your trusty old sweet talk like honey dripping from your lips.” Mmm… his lips… Snap back to earth, y/n!

He’s smooth, you give him that. And as bad as you’d love to throw him down right here and fuck his brains out, you gather your senses and realize that your self-respect and dignity are more important. But, oh… those lips. The high road sucks.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and continue, “I, unlike your long list of hit-em-and-quit-em’s, am a lot of hard work. I require dedication and respect.” You spat the last word out a little more icily than you meant to, but you were seething at the thought of his hands being on anyone else.

Did he just screw some rando less that twelve hours ago? You don’t know. Probably. You clench your fist at the thought.

Dean moves suddenly. Swiftly. Like the predator you know him to be out in the field while hunting. Taking you by surprise, he kneels beside you, grabbing both your hands, turning you sideways in the chair to face him. He looks up at you with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Y/n, I- I haven’t. N-not once. Not since I- I realized…”

-----

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore; he couldn’t bear to hear the heartbreak in y/n’s voice. And he did hear it. Even though she tried to cover it; lacing every word with venom. He could still hear it. And it broke him inside.

What makes him good enough to deserve someone like y/n? She was way better off without a messy relationship with him. A relationship that would inevitably end in heartbreak. Heartbreak for one of them. Because in this life, the life of a hunter, having your heart ripped to shreds by the loss of a loved one was part of the reality. He was so scared to allow himself something good.

Good? Why do I deserve good? He thought. Maybe death and loss are part of everyone’s reality. Maybe, just maybe he was making the pain worse by fighting this… Maybe she, like him, was also scared. Would she even feel the same if he told her? What would he say? That he’d been in love with her for, well, he wasn’t sure when it happened. They’d always playfully flirted with each other. Sometimes she stole his beer, took a few sips, and handed it back. He liked the idea of putting his lips where hers had been. Dean imagined about how she would taste. He- he needed to tell her. Tell her everything.

Why was he making himself so miserable? This had to end, he was being stupid. It was his own fault for not confessing sooner. Dean gathered his courage. In one fluid motion, taking y/n by surprise, he knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and turned her body to face him.

Dean looked up at y/n. There it was. A mixture of torment, sadness, and longing. All weakly camouflaged by an icy look in her eyes.

“Y/n, I-“ Dean froze. I, what? Come on, spit it out, man! You’ve got this. “I haven’t.” Haven’t what?! Words. What are words? “N- not once. Not since I- I realized…” shit. Dean froze again as y/n’s breath quickened. Her eyes wide, listening to him speak. Her nails unknowingly digging into his palms in nervous anticipation of what he was trying to say. Why couldn’t he just spit it out?!

-----

You feel your pulse racing. You’re hanging on to every word pouring from those perfect lips. Every. Word. As your gaze dances across painfully beautiful green eyes, your expression softens.

“Not since I realized I love you.” Dean finishes in a low, rough voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. Is this real? Are you breathing? Did Dean just say what you think you heard him say?

“Y/n, I love you. And I have for a long time now.”

You release a big breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Gently you lift his rough hands up to your mouth, brushing your lips across his calloused knuckles.

Unable to speak, you keep your hands on his as he reaches up to your cheek to wipe away a single tear. Am I crying?! You think to yourself. Apparently. Yes. The rush of emotion and relief that you’re feeling, knowing that he feels the same way that you feel keeps you tongue tied.

Your reaction to his words was the catalyst Dean needed to keep going. He continued, “I love you. I haven’t been with anyone for a while now. Not since I realized that you were right in front of me the whole time. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Dean was on both knees by this point.

As if Dean were searching for the next words he wanted to say, his head dropped down against his hands (which were still holding yours in your lap) and he drew a shuddering breath.

You could feel his soft hair against your leg. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?! As he composes himself, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His head jolts up at your touch. You smile at him, “I love you too, Dean. I just never knew you felt the same. Why are you only telling me now? Why hide it for so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.” He whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Hurt me? Uh, didn’t ya think this whole ‘apparent unrequited love’ thing was killing me too?” you say sarcastically with a smirk. But in truth, that wasn’t fair to Dean. Because he didn’t know how you felt either. You’d never told him. Sure, you always flirted with each other and you found him insanely attractive and hot. Especially when he got protective over you during a hunt, or some creep at the bar. How many nights did the two of you stay up laughing at each other’s stupid jokes and throwing back a few beers? You’d always enjoyed each other’s company.

You repeat yourself, but softer this time, with longing in your voice. “Why now, Dean? Please. Tell me.”

“Because I was tired of denying myself the one good thing that ever came into my life.” He said heatedly. “Because I can’t think when I’m around you. You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, y/n. I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat, hell, I can’t even put a beer to my lips without wishing it was you that I had at my lips. I want. No. I need you in my life. By my side. I need to - taste you. Breathe you. Y/n, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. I see it in your eyes, I see the way you look at me. And I’m scared shitless of how deep these feelings go. This-“ Dean gestured between the two of you, “Is something that I never even knew it was possible to feel.

Without skipping a beat, Dean put his hand behind your head and pulled you into his lips. It was a tender kiss. Gentle, soft. You could feel the fire growing inside you. He felt so good. Your hands found the stubble on either cheek as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and found yours.

The kiss became more forceful, and full of need. You didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t stop. If it did stop, that may be the end of the world as you know it.

Dean stood, pulling you up with him as he wrapped both arms tight around your waist. He began running his hands over every surface of your body he could reach. He pulled you flush with his body, never breaking apart your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him. You ran your hands down his powerfully muscular back. This. This man. Him. Dean. Dean is what you want.

Dean broke the kiss apart. “I love you, y/n. I love you so damn much it hurts.” He said, his voice breaking.

“I love you too, Dean.” You say, smiling up at his face, tangling your fingers in his hair.

With a small grunt, Dean lifts you up by your ass and you instinctually wrap your legs around his hips. You feel a growing bulge in his jeans. You pull his face back in to yours. You can’t think straight, you want him so bad, you can taste it. Your core is aching with need. The need for him growing more intense. Only he can quench this fire burning you up.

Dean carries you clumsily down the hall to your room. Your arms still entwined around each other, holding each other together, holding the universe together.

Once inside Dean puts you down and you both stand there, staring at each other, breathing heavily. You both suddenly fly towards each other. Grabbing and pulling clothes, pulling each other’s lips down hard on your own. You unbutton Deans blue jeans and he unclasps your bra. Your t shirt and shorts long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The feeding frenzy of ripping each other’s clothes off slows to a savory pace as you tug and pull off Deans pants, leaving nothing to hold down the massive tent in Dean’s boxers.

He pulls the straps of your bra from your shoulders, slowly. When the cold air hits your nipples, they perk instantly Dean lets out a sharp hiss. “Oh, y/n.” He teases the soft flesh. First with his thumb, then with his mouth. As you feel his tongue against your skin, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes dart up to your face. He lifts his head and softly kisses you on the mouth. “I would love nothing more than to throw you onto this bed and fuck you senseless right now.” Dean said with a growl, but then his expression softened. “But if this is too much, we can stop. You’re in charge… as per usual.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you playfully smack him on the arm, grinning.

“Hey now!” you say laughing, “I’m not always in charge when we do hunts.”

Dean rolls his eyes and says sarcastically, “Yea, ok. Sure…”

You lean in and plant a kiss on his neck, “Well, I guess – since – I’m the one – in charge,” you say playfully between kisses. Trailing them down his chest and belly, stopping at his boxers. His erection obvious. “Then, I’ll accept nothing less than-“, you pull his boxers down revealing his full length. You flash your eyes up to his. He’s hungrily watching you, “-being fucked senseless.” You say as you take him into your mouth.

-----

She was so fucking beautiful. Perfect. The most perfect thing he’d ever seen. As y/n started bringing her kisses down his torso, Dean could feel his erection stiffen even harder. When she stopped to pull down his boxers, he could feel his shaft weeping with anticipation.

He was so worried that he had crossed a line earlier. It totally took him by surprise that y/n wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

“Well, I guess, since I’m the one in charge, I’ll accept nothing less than being fucked senseless.” Y/n said as she looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Damn! She was so hot. Dean had never been this riled up by anyone before. Oh, if that’s what you want, Baby, then that’s what I’m gonna-

Dean wasn’t able to finish his thought stream. Y/n had taken his whole length into her mouth. “Oh FUCK!” Dean screamed out, grabbing y/n by the hair. He slowly began to guide her head at the pace he wanted. Her tongue, her mouth, her! She was about to make him come already. Dean pulled himself out of her mouth. “Bed. Now.” He commanded with a sly smile.

Y/n laughed, “whatever you say, Baby.” As she climbed onto the bed, she did a dramatically slow striptease style crawl that made Dean’s erection throb.

Dean crawled up her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. Y/n made a little pleasurable whine as dean kissed her thighs while he pulled down her lacy black thong. Her center was absolutely dripping wet. Dean wanted to live between those perfect thighs. Spend years there, never come back to reality. Was time even moving at all? What day is it? What year is it? He didn’t care. None of those things mattered. None of it mattered because he had his y/n. His. Mine.

The only thing that existed was the two of them.

Dean dove his face between y/n’s thighs to her soft center. She tasted like Spring sunshine. Dean took his time, savoring every shudder that ran through her perfect body. Every gasp, scream, and moan that came out of her perfect mouth. She was getting close to coming.

-----

Your whole body is on the brink. Every move dean makes brings you closer to the edge. You need this release and you need Dean to give it to you. You feel yourself climbing, building, then suddenly – the earth shatters around you. You scream “Dean! Oh, DEAN!”

Dean keeps going while you ride out the high, he slowly brings you back down. You sigh, “Dean that- that was- I-“ you have no words. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say because he smiles.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart and core flutter at his words.

He climbs between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You place your hands on his hips and start to guide him in. With one smooth powerful thrust, he slides his whole length inside you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. You both gasp. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

His pumps start slow at first, then become more deliberate, more powerful. You love the protectively dominate power he radiates as he’s on top of you. Dean is a MAN. And he feels good. He feels so damn good. You start to feel yourself building again to what you knew would be another earth-shattering orgasm.

Dean found his rhythm and savored every movement, every stroke. He could stay here for ages.

As you feel yourself building, your need for him grows stronger. Dean... He was yours. And you were greedy for more of him. As his rhythm quickened, you dug your nails into his ass pulling his thrusting hips toward you with more force at each thrust. He catches the hint.

Without ever breaking the two of you apart, he flips you over onto all fours and doesn’t hold back. His urgency makes you cry out in pleasure. “Baby, yes! That’s it!”

“You want more? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

“YES!” you scream, reaching around and slapping his thigh. That does it. He unleashes himself. You hear him roar with pleasure, holding onto you so tightly, pulling you against him so fast and hard. The sound of flesh slapping echoed around the room mixed with both your cries of pleasure.

“Baby, I’m about to come!” you pant.

“Come on. Come for me Baby.” Dean says breathlessly. “I want to know that I’m the one to make you come.”

-----

Dean was talking out of his mind in the throes of ecstasy. The thought of y/n coming… of him coming inside her, was throwing him over the edge. Just as he felt himself going over, he felt y/n tighten around him.

-----

Just as you feel Dean twitching inside you, you feel yourself tighten around him. The sheer power of your shared climax hit you both like a freight train.

When you felt him pull out, you felt empty with his warmth gone. Dean lays back on the pillows and pulls you into his arms. You settle yourself in the warmth and comfort of his body. Dean absent mindedly plays with your hair as you lay your head on his chest and you both breathe heavily while you float back down to reality.

“Dean?” you say softly.

“Mmm?”

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Glad I could be of service.”

He’s such a smartass, you think to yourself laughing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you either.” You say, picking up your conversation from earlier. “I know I’m partly to blame for this dance we’ve been doing around each other for - who knows how long.”

“No, you were right. I should have just nutted up and told you how I felt. It just crushes me to think that I was causing you pain because you thought I was seeing other people.”

You absent mindedly draw circles on his chest with your finger. “I don’t know, I suppose we’re both to blame. I mean, look at this mind-blowing sex we could have been having all this time.”

This coaxes a real laugh out of Dean, and you feel his chest moving up and down from the laughter. But then he stops and you see a seriousness wash over his face. The same pain you saw in his eyes earlier, but maybe – perhaps you are imaging it – less pain, more - hope?

“I meant everything I said earlier.” Dean says in a husky, deep voice. “I am scared shitless to lose you, or to know that I’d be the source of your pain if you ever lost me. I mean, hell we’re hunters, we know how this ends eventually.” Still holding you tight, Dean continues, “I guess, If I’ve got one life to live, even if it’s a short one, I want you by my side. Always. I want you. All of you. The sassy you. The smartass you. The bossy you. The…” he paused to run his thumb across your lips, “The incredibly sexy you that I can’t keep my hands off of.” Dean smiles “I didn’t know that happiness like this, or these – feelings - were even possible to feel. And that’s just it. You made me feel. You pulled me out of a darkness that I didn’t even know I was in. You made me – free.”

#dean winchester #supernatural #SPN #spnfandom #dean winchester SPN #smut #angst #hunters #idiots in love #fluff #sad dean #sexy dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #y/n #dean winchester x reader

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fizzychocolatemilk · 3 years ago

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The Sky is Blue (...and Kacchan Loves Deku) (Bakudeku Tropetember Drabble)

Some of you might remember this preview that I said that I was putting on the back-burner. Well...I realized that I had a free space day for tropetember, so I was like, “Why don’t I finish this fic for that?!” So I finished it. Enjoy! AO3 link here.

The realization wasn’t a surprise. It was a quick, “oh, I love him,” but it didn’t catch him off guard. It was a universal truth, like the sky is blue or his hearing was going to go if he didn’t wear noise-cancellers with his hero costume. It was a normal day, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping happily, and Katsuki was with Deku. They were training, they usually are, but today the sun hit Deku’s hair just right and gave him a golden halo that made him look like an angel when he smiled and reached to help Katsuki up. “I love him,” he thought as he accepted the hand being offered to him, thinking nothing of the realization. It was obvious. The sky is blue, time stops for no one, and Kacchan loves Deku.

After the realization, he thought about Deku more if that’s possible. He sighed fondly when he saw him laughing with his friends; he borrowed notes from Half-n-Half or Ponytail because he could spend entire class periods admiring Deku’s reflection in the window next to their seats; he was more proud than frustrated when Deku ended up pinning him multiple times in a row during their sparring sessions.

He still encouraged Deku and he was still the best partner he could be for someone with a timeless quirk like One-for-All, but his love now encompassed his every action in a way that he never noticed before.

That’s why he noticed when Deku started pulling away.

It was slow at first. Deku started by making excuses to skip their hangouts every so often. First it was, “Denki-kun asked me for some help with his quirk theory homework.” or “Ei-kun wanted me to show him a new training regimen that I came up with to maximize his quirk.”

Then the excuses became more elaborate and more often, “Ocha-chan wants Shou-kun, Tenya-kun, and I to go to the mall with her to carry bags,” “...The girls want to give me a makeover...” or “Umm...Hanta-kun just sent me a text saying that he needs my help...because he taped himself...to a tree...by accident!”

While Katsuki was very understanding about these disappearances even though he knew that Deku was lying to him, it hurt his heart that Deku didn’t want to spend time with him enough for him to lie to his face. He wanted to get angry, wanted to rage at Deku for just getting up and abandoning them, abandoning what they were starting to have—but he couldn’t. Deku had every right to choose who he wanted to spend time with; Katsuki had just thought that their friendship was worth more than flimsy excuses and missed hangouts.

Katsuki had been going through the motions for the past week. Deku had eventually stopped giving him excuses and just started skipping their meetings. Shark-face and Raccoon-eyes had invited him to several “squad” sessions, but he told them that he wanted to train or that he had homework. Most of the time, he layed in his bed with his eyes closed—imagining shiny green curls, a smile that rivaled the sun, and constellations of freckles under a clear blue sky until he eventually fell asleep.

He always woke up with tears running down his cheeks.

The next week Katsuki sat next to Deku at lunch.

Usually he sat with his squad, but he wasn’t going to give up Deku without some sort of fight. After a week of living in a grey malaise where nothing really mattered to him, he realized that Deku was his world. He would chase Deku to the ends of the Earth, shoulder every tear to see him smile, and do anything, no matter how humiliating, to see him laugh. Kacchan loved Deku, and he was going to live by him until Deku told him to leave, no excuses.

Deku had been talking and laughing with his friends, but he was blushing when he turned to look at Katsuki. “Kacchan? Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Katsuki’s heart melted at the compassion that Deku was displaying. He’d missed him so much. At that point, he was blushing slightly as he replied, “I’m fine, Deku. I just...wanted to sit by you today. Missed you last week, nerd.”

He swore that steam started coming out of Deku’s ears when he said that. Deku was stuttering incoherently, his hands were flailing without purpose, and his face was so red that it rivaled Shark-face’s shitty hair.

“Nerd?! Are you okay?” Katsuki placed a hand on Deku’s shoulder and the back of the other on Deku’s forehead. “Shit, you feel a little warm. Should I take you to Recovery Hag?”

If it was possible, Deku flushes harder, which only makes Katsuki more worried. But then Half-n-Half interrupts them. “He’s in perfect physical health, Bakugou,” he says with a barely noticeable teasing smile. In the background, Floaty has broken down in laughter on Glasses’s shoulder.

Katsuki furrows his brow but doesn’t get angry. “Then what the fuck is wrong with him?!” This just makes Floaty laugh harder.

The Candy-Cane faced bastard just smiles knowingly, “You should ask him that.”

Deku had apparently gained enough coherency at that point to blurt, “Why don’t we spar tonight, Kacchan! Normal place, normal time!”

Katsuki’s eyes had shot to Deku when he’d started talking, and his heart started doing a victory dance when Deku invited him to spar. After weeks of excuses and another week of nothingness, Deku had finally agreed to spend time with him again! Katsuki didn’t realize he was smiling until he heard a choked gasp from his right.

Deku was once again incoherent, and he was staring at Katsuki like he had killed Deku’s mother. Katsuki caught himself and softened his smile (he couldn’t find it in himself to stop smiling completely...he was so ecstatic) before slightly nodding at Deku in confirmation of their plans. Deku’s flush got redder for some reason. Katsuki flushed too under Deku’s continued attention as he turned back to his food. What was going on in the nerd’s head?

Katsuki arrived in the grassy field of their usual sparring location right after class. Sometimes he and Deku would spar at night or in the morning, but the afternoon was the most convenient.

Deku hadn’t arrived yet, so Katsuki plopped down onto the vibrant grass and looked up at the sky. It was still breathtakingly blue. It reminded him of Deku. It reminded him of the day he realized his love. He smiled serenely while thinking about his nerd, his gorgeous eyes that Katsuki wouldn’t be able to adequately describe if he was given a thousand words, his smile that radiated sunshine and brightened Katsuki’s day at a mere glimpse, his bountiful kindness and optimism that simultaneously scared Katsuki and made his heart melt. Deku, Deku, Deku.

“Kacchan?” Deku had arrived, “Oh my goodness, you haven’t been waiting too long right?! I’m sorry!”

They were inconsequential words, but every one made Katsuki realize more and more how much he had missed his Deku. “I would wait forever for you,” he blurted. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words were the truth, a truth that Katsuki was no longer scared to share. “I would chase you to the fucking ends of the Earth, do any-shitty-thing to make you laugh, defeat hundreds of the most depraved villains to see your smile….Deku...Izuku….I love you. I love you so much it hurts, so much that I cannot fucking hold it within myself anymore. You have no obligation to return my feelings or even to be my friend—but I had to tell you that you mean so fucking much to me. My world is you, and without you, I am nothing.”

Green met red for a moment, a moment which conveyed the truth behind Katsuki’s words, before Izuku broke into tears.

Katsuki leaped up and pulled Izuku into a hug, rubbed his back and whispered platitudes to him until he stopped crying. They stood in silence for a moment, just holding each other, before Katsuki broke the silence, “Deku?” They needed to have a conversation.

“...Kacchan….You—How could someone as amazing as you love someone like me? How could I love you right back? I—Kacchan, what about me is there to love?”

Katsuki’s heart ached with the final question, but he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Izuku nodded against Katsuki’s shoulder, and Katsuki held Izuku’s face in his hands before giving him the sweetest kiss he could muster. It was both of their firsts, so it wasn’t very good, but Katsuki could feel Izuku’s insecurity and he hoped that Izuku could feel Katsuki’s all encompassing love.

Soon enough, their kiss broke as Izuku had broken down in sobs again. Katsuki pulled him in and placed Izuku’s head on his shoulder once again. After another stretch of holding each other and listening to Izuku’s cries, Izuku lifted his head and smiled at Katsuki before saying three simple words.

“I love you”

Izuku reached up to cradle Katsuki’s face in his hand, and Katsuki's heart warmed up as they kissed again. The world has simple truths: the sky is blue, Kacchan loves Deku….and apparently Deku loves Kacchan too.

That’s it! I hope you enjoyed! I’m considering making a part two from Izuku’s perspective...let me know if that’s a good idea. I’ll see y’all later!

#fizzy's fics #tropetember #I almost cried while writing this #it hit me in the feels #bakugou katsuki #soft bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki is GOOD at feelings #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku is BAD at feelings #bakusquad #dekusquad #bakudeku #bkdk #dynadeku #bakdeku fanfic #bkdk fic #free space #feelings realization

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

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“Who says I don’t still get a rush from you?”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.2K

a/n: Hobi time!!!!! This takes place the night the members all meet Joon’s new girl in “Do you mind if we dim the lights down, baby?” There’s hardly any plot, it just shows Hobi and Petal winding down at home after a night with the bangtan gang. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

WATCHING yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, you actively ignored the man sat on the counter next to you as he observed you while you conducted your personal hygiene routine. He had already finished his routine and was rather impatiently urging you to finish yours by staring you down because, “I have something to show you.”

As Hoseok continued to shift closer to the sink, craning his neck so his head was invading your reflection in the mirror further and further, you rolled your eyes, the man letting out that same laugh you’d been in love with for over a year.

“You know,” you mumbled through your foamy mouth, Hoseok’s eyes widening at your sudden words. “Jin and Joon might be onto something.” Finally, you looked at your boyfriend to see him shooting a playful glare at you.

“I dare you to finish that thought,” he warned with a small smile toying on is lips.

“Oh you dare me?” You teased the man, watching as his smile broke through. “I’m just saying, there’s a resemblance,” you continued before spitting the toothpaste into the sink, Hoseok scoffing at your comment as he shook his head. “I didn’t say it’s a bad thing,” you defended, smiling at the man. “Brushing your teeth is also very refreshing.”

“You are not comparing mint chocolate ice cream to toothpaste right now, this is not happening,” he protested, giving you a feigned look of disappointment as he shook his head.

Earlier that night, the members and some of the girls had a debate over whether mintcho was an acceptable ice cream or not. Despite not really having an opinion on the ice cream, you happily took your boyfriend’s side, ensuring he won the debate. And then you proceeded to eat vanilla ice cream in front of everyone as they judged you for your loyalty to the man.

Smirking, you simply shrugged as you rinsed your mouth, Hoseok staring at you for a moment before quickly reaching for you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you between the v of his legs, you giggling as you placed your hands against his chest, fighting his affections.

The man planted a series of kisses on your cheek, you groaning through a smile. “Take it back,” he muttered against your face.

“Why would I do that?” You asked as you slowly draped your arms around Hoseok’s shoulders.

“You’re so mean,” he told you affectionately, you giggling as he pulled his face from yours to look at you.

“And you’re so obnoxious,” you replied, just before pressing a quick peck to his lips. “Oh,” you suddenly spoke, your boyfriend’s eyes widening in anticipation. “Joon’s new friend,” you said simply, Hoseok letting out a knowing laugh. “How long do you think they’ll keep that act up?” You asked with a grin, Hobi chuckling as he dipped his face to your neck, kissing the spot lightly.

“I guess it can be fun to sneak around,” he whispered against your neck as his hands gripped your waist.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, running a hand through your boyfriend’s hair tenderly. “Do you wish we had snuck around?” You questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow, a playful glint appearing in Hoseok’s orbs.

“I wouldn’t change anything about how we started,” he grinned, you looking at him skeptically. “I loved you hating me,” he joked, you laughing at the comment as you gently shoved him away from you, the man dramatically falling back against the counter, supporting himself on his forearms as you took a step back from him.

“I never hated you,” you clarified through a wide grin. “I just thought you were annoying.”

“Oof, tell me more,” he joked and flirted as he stood up from the counter and reached for your hand, you playfully scoffing.

“We may not have snuck around but going from disliking you the tiniest bit,” you emphasized, Hoseok laughing giddily with his sunshine smile on display, “to not being able to resist you was pretty fun.”

“It was a lot of fun,” he agreed, shooting you a smirk. “I can say I thoroughly enjoyed it,” he added, you giggling at the flirty tone. His close-mouthed smile made his little dimples pop out, tempting you to poke your finger into one of the divots. His smile widened as he attempted to playfully bite your finger, you moving it quickly to boop his nose.

“Ok, come on, I still have something to show you,” he reminded you as he began leading you out of the bathroom. You expected him to turn into the bedroom but he walked past it, guiding you to the… front door?

“Uh, Hobi?” You questioned, the man looking back at you innocently as he opened the door. “Where are we going, Sunshine?”

“Just trust me,” he smiled, you looking at him skeptically.

“Trust you? That’s a high ask,” you teased, Hoseok chuckling as he dragged you out of your apartment, both of you standing in the hallway in your sleeping clothes, the oversized t-shirt, one of Hoseok’s extra baggy ones, that adorned your body landing so far down your thighs that you couldn’t even see your shorts.

Despite not knowing what your boyfriend was up to, you followed him easily, having complete trust in him. Trusting Hoseok was easy. It came naturally to you.

Dragging you down the flight of stairs, your slippers barely hanging onto your feet, you giggled as Hoseok smiled widely. It didn’t take long to get from your apartment to the front doors of the building, you looking at your boyfriend quizzically as he turned back, looking as excited and happy as ever.

“Are you ready?” He asked, you shrugging in question. Stepping behind you, he placed his hands over your eyes, temporarily blocking your vision as you let out a breathy laugh.

“Hobi, what are you doing?” You asked, receiving no answer as he guided you slowly out onto the front steps of the building, the cool air sending chills across your skin.

“Ready, Petal?” He whispered next to your ear, you smiling as you nodded. Removing his hands, he pointed to the sky above you, your eyes falling on the bright full moon that greeted your vision. “There’s a full moon tonight.”

A pout immediately formed on your lips as tears threatened to gather in your eyes. A couple people walked by on the sidewalk alone, looking at you both in intrigue. The duo probably wondered what was so special about a full moon. It happens once a month, what’s the big deal? But it was one of the first things you ever revealed about yourself to Hoseok.

“I love the moon,” you had told Hoseok on your first date as you both looked up at the full moon, the carnival noise surrounding you but you both feeling like you were in your own world. “I try to track it’s phases but I usually end up forgetting the day of the full moon. My fatal flaw.”

“I’ll try to remind you,” he replied hopeful.

Turns out both of you were pretty damn good at forgetting, but his intentions were pure. And whenever Hoseok was away on tour, he’d always text you to let you know there would be a full moon.

“You are the sweetest, cutest man alive, do you know that?” You cooed, Hoseok smiling as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

As you watched the moon shine above you, your boyfriend holding you in a back hug, you found yourself thinking back to the start of your relationship. Namjoon and his new friend had you feeling nostalgic in a sense.

Turning in your boyfriend’s grasp, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, cocking your head curiously.

“Do you ever wish you could go back to the start of us? Live it again?” You questioned, the man instantly shaking his head.

“As fun as it was, no,” he told you, the moonlight illuminating his soft smile, your heart fluttering at his expression and the sweet tone he spoke the words in.

“No? You wouldn’t want to feel that rush again?” You continued your questioning, the man again shaking his head before dipping down to place a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “Our start was amazing but I wouldn’t change a single thing about us and our timeline,” he assured you. “I wouldn’t even want to change your first impression of me,” he added, a smile spreading across your face. “I like where we are,” he said more seriously, his eyes scanning your features as you stared into his observant almond shape eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you agreed, Hobi’s lips curving up into a small smile. You didn’t elaborate, not one for many words of affection, but the man knew that. And he could see the sincerity in your features.

“Also,” he started, looking at you with a playful glare. “Who says I don’t still get a rush from you?”

Smiling at him, you bit your bottom lip, watching as the man’s pretty orbs curved into crescents at the adorable smile he flashed you.

“Did I say that?” You asked, playing dumb, the man giggling at you.

“You alluded,” he corrected, you humming in response.

“Well,” you smirked. “Maybe you need to prove it to me,” you teased, the man letting out an amused sigh, his arms wrapping a little tighter around your waist as your fingers brushed through the hair at the back of his head.

“Are you not feeling the rush right now? Am I the only one feeling the rush?” He asked in pretend offense, you holding back a giggle as you simply shrugged at him. Shaking his head at you, you scrunched your nose in response.

“You’re cute,” you cooed. The compliment, however, only made Hoseok step up his cute game as he made a silly sound effect, removing an arm from you to bring a hand to his face, framing his eye with a peace sign.

Rolling your eyes, he burst into giggles as a few more people walked by, though they didn’t deter him at all. Pulling another pose, he framed one side of his face and gave you a close-eyed ‘sweet’ expression. “Ugh,” you feigned disgust, the man opening his eyes to beam at you in amusement. “Again,” you said in a monotone, the man raising his eyebrows at you, appearing to be holding out to make you beg. “Again,” you repeated with a slight whine.

Removing his hands from you briefly, Hoseok framed his face in the classic flower pose, you pulling an expression of contrived dislike.

“Oh, you like that one?” He teased.

“I hate it,” you smiled.

“How about,” he started as he pretended to reach inside the pocket of his shorts before pulling his hand back out in a finger heart, “this?” He questioned you, holding his fingers toward your face.

Giggling, you shook your head. “Put it back,” you joked, shoving his hand away from you.

“You like it,” he noted, his hands gripping your hips. Pulling a face of scrutiny, you shook your head. “No?” Shaking your head again, his smile widened. “I think you like it a little bit,” he added.

“Only a little,” you replied, Hoseok giggling as you smiled at him. “Because it’s you.”

Squeezing your hips in his hands, he smirked at you. “That’s good enough for me.”

Scrunching your nose at him once more, you leaned toward him to kiss his lips softly, the man eagerly accepting the kiss and deepening the action instantly.

Resting his hands at the bottom of your back, he slowly worked his cold hands under your baggy shirt, the touch of his icy fingers causing you to shiver against him, giggling into the kiss. “Sorry,” he mumbled through his amusement, you placing a hand to his face.

Just a little over a year was all you’d been seeing Hoseok, but with the deep understanding and acceptance you had for each other, it easy to lose sense of time. Every day felt familiar but new, exciting but comfortable. The days had blurred into one incredible experience with Hoseok, complete with mostly highs and fewer lows, and so much love that only grew stronger and more sincere as time went on.

Pulling away from each other, you slowly dragged your eyes from your boyfriend’s face and looked up at the sky to appreciate the moon once again, Hoseok’s eyes staying on you. The two of you seemed to be opposites in a lot of ways. Much like the sun he embodied and the moon whose light was shining on your features beautifully in that moment. But much like the sun and moon, when they met, the whole world stopped and admired them. Luckily though, you and Hoseok didn’t have to wait over a hundred years to collide for a mere few minutes.

Your lips slowly curved up as you thought of the man in front of you, and how thoughtful he was to surprise you with something as simple and perfect as the moon. Looking from the sky back to the man, you appreciated him and felt so thankful that you knew him. That you got to love him. That you were loved by him.

“What are you smiling about, Petal?” He whispered before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Nothing,” you let out a breathy giggle. “I just feel the rush.”

The man smiled happily at you, rubbing his nose against yours cutely before crashing his lips against yours passionately. Lacing your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, you kissed him back with the kind of passion only Hoseok could pull from you. Because he was Hoseok.

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harrysgoldenline · 5 years ago

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okay so i saw one of these for niall but, one where y/n can’t afford harry’s life style but doesn’t like him paying for her and it’s just angst with fluff at the end?

Hii!! I got SO SO SO carried away doing this and it ended up not being too angsts so I really hope you still like it! And I’m sorry it took so long but I just got the inspiration for it and all just came to me at once! Thank you so much for requesting 💖

The Best Gift

The store was bright and flashy, yet somehow simplistic, the different display cases making the girl glance around quickly as she took in the new space filled with diamonds, pearls and jewels, although this being her second time here, only because of him, she didn’t think she would ever get used to it.

She felt completely out of place, walking through the luxury store with Harry wearing an ensemble costing close to three thousand dollars and she was wearing a dress from one of her favorite online shops costing her around $60, with that being a splurge.

“Anything catching those pretty eyes?” He smirked, nudging her slightly but still keeping his grip tight on her hand, guiding her throughout the store he has been through more times than he can count, “we got all day baby, try on anything you want!”

“I’d rather you give the fashion show.” She laughed, going up on her tip toes and kissing his cheek, “We’ve been in her thirty seconds and I’ve seen you staring at four different pairs of trousers.”

He gave her a small nudge, before leading her to a seat outside the changing room, due to the fact they got in trouble last time for having her come into the same one was him. He gave her a quick peck before he started grabbing his items, flashing her a wink before he disappeared into the short hallway and into the dressing room, giving her a cute wave before shutting the door.

She giggled softly to herself, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head, wondering how on earth she was lucky enough to have him as her boyfriend, be so lucky to have him be in love with her? It would never fully click.

Her eyes wandered around the shop, admiring the different materials and luxury items she could never even dream of purchasing. She wishes she could, especially dreaming of being able to buy something Harry would buy for himself and just be able to try and repay somehow for everything he has done for her.

Harry has taken her on so many different trips, gotten her custom gowns, designer shoes and jewelry and it made her feel terrible. For his birthday, she picked up extra shifts, stayed late, and did some babysitting in order to get him some new rings and a recording microphone he could hook up to his phone or laptop he could use instead of using just voice memos.

He loved it of course, wearing the rings all the time and enjoyed being able to get a better sound when an idea would spring up on him, but she still felt guilty. Harry would get her a thousand dollar bag and a matching diamond earring and necklace set.

Letting out an impatient sigh she stood and began wondering around the store a handbag catching her eye, well her dream bag really. She has had it plastered all of her Pinterest board and was just in love with it. She carefully ran her fingers over it, heart sinking as she checked the price tag and instantly retracted her hand, feeling wrong for touching it, so she just stood and admired.

“Okay darling, what do you think?”

The girl jumps at the sudden voice, pulling her back to reality and she turns to look at him as he is standing directly behind her, a large smirk covering her face as she takes in his appearance.

He struck a few poses, blushing a few moments later after some staff members noticed before shyly standing straight, giving her a quick twirl as he was dressed in grey wool trousers and a pattered sweater.

“You look so handsome.” She softly smiled, reaching her hand up and rubbing her hands over the material, “its really soft... I love it, absolutely perfect for you.”

“Thank you angel... now you go pick something to try on.”

***

After Harry trying on a few different outfits, and him forcing her to try on a dress (which she didn’t end up getting for obvious reasons), they were headed for check out, Y/N helping him carry his items to the counter where they both stood, her eyes widening at the price growing and growing.

“Hey Y/N, you wanna grab some smoothies from next door and I’ll meet you there and we can head back to my place?” He suggested, handing over the place pair of trousers, “I’ll be right there, gonna get the car pulled up.”

“Okay!” She happily smiled, “The usual?”

He nodded and gave her a quick kiss and she was off, entering the overly priced smoothie place nearly a minute later, quickly ordering their drinks and waiting over to the side.

A few minutes later they called her name, giving her the drinks and she left with a quick thank you, a smile covering her face when she sees Harry in the car pulled up outside, running over to the car with a smile and happily hoping into the passenger seat, handing him his drink with a kiss on the cheek.

He gave her a happy smile, stuck in a daze as he stared at the girl, a large dopey grin glued on his face.

“What?” She laughed, cheeks turning pink as she started buckling her seatbelt, “Why are you staring at me?”

“Just so in love with ya, sunshine.” He grinned, leaning over and giving her a long kiss before pulling back, switching the gear of the car and driving off.

She blushed, giggling to herself as he kept stealing glances at her throughout the drive back, “Look at the road!” She laughed, covering her face, “I love you but right now is not the time to stare, you’re gonna kill us.”

He grabbed her hand closest to him, bringing it to his lips with a quick kiss before seating it down on the armrest between them, holding it there for the rest of the drive.

Soon enough they were back at Harry’s, him grabbing the bags before she could so she just carries in both smoothies, scurrying in close behind him, following him into his bedroom where he starts putting away his new clothes.

“Darling, could you grab what’s left in that last bag please?” Harry called out from his closet, putting away his new sweaters and trousers.

“Of course!” She called back, walking over to it as Harry sneaks out of the closet, watching her reach into the bag.

She kneeled onto the bed, reaching into the deep white bag and her eyes widen at the feeling of leather, rather than the soft feeling of fabric, eyes looking up and meeting Harrys as he leaned against the inside of the doorway with a smirk, raising his eyebrows at her as if to urge her to keep going.

She shakily wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled it out of the bag, an audible gasp escaping her as she quickly looked up at Harry, a proud grin covering his pink lips.

“H-Harry.” She shakily began, shaking her head as the images of the price tag overwhelm her memory.

“I’ve been seeing ya look at it online and when we went in the store last, then again today so I just had to get it for you my love.” He explained, walking over and sitting next to her on his bed, “Do you like it?”

She shook her head rapidly, dropping the purse onto the bed and covering her face as tears filled her eyes, knees pulling to her chest. Confused, Harry instantly took her into his arms as he got the complete opposite reaction than what he was expecting.

“I-Is it the wrong color? Shape?” He began, “We can take it back-“

“It’s too much!” She interrupted, “It’s so expensive! You cant keep… keep spending this money on me its not fair! I’ll never be able to repay you, we have to return it.”

“Repay me? That is not what this is about, I got this for you because I am in love with you and I wanted to get you something that you’ve been wanting for a long time. You’re always working so hard, Y/N. I wanna spoil you.”

She brought the back of her hand back up to her eye, wiping away her tears before looking up at Harry, heart breaking at the dejected face he was making. The girl leaned into him, arms going around his shoulders as his meet her waist, pulling her onto his lap, moving her hair out of the way and kissing her shoulder.

“Your love, Y/N…” He began, “is the most valuable thing you could ever give to me. All I ever want in this world is you and you alone, okay?”

She nodded, burying her face in the crook of his neck pressing a kiss to the warm skin before pulling back and looking into his eyes, “Okay.” She sniffled, “I-I’m sorry, I am- Thank you, Harry. I really am grateful, for everything, it’s just a little overwhelming.”

“I know you are, you don’t need to thank me angel. You got the sweetest little heart.” He chuckled, pressing quick kisses up her neck before leaning their foreheads together, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, no gift can top that… Although I do really love those rings you gave me.”

“They’re no Gucci....”

“Hey! They’re my favorites.” He grumbled, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her closer, kissing her softly, “I love you so much, more than you will ever know.”

“I love you so so so much, Harry. Even without the gifts or anything… you know that right?”

“I know.” He shyly smiles, heart growing in size as he knows the girl in his lap is the one he’s been dreaming about, “and I know you’re the best gift because you’re my soulmate, Lovie. You’re my forever.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #fine line #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles headcannon #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles request

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aca-oblivious · 4 years ago

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When I’m Gone

Merry Pitchmas to @bechloeislegit from your Secret Santa! Thanks so much for the prompt. I haven’t written in a while, so I hope you like this. Sorry for it being a bit late. I blame my California-ness and us being one of the last ones to celebrate Christmas in the world.

AO3 Link

Prompt: On my Pitchmas list this year, I’d like something slightly angsty with a happy ending. Something like Beca and Chloe met when they were young and became friends. Years later they meet up again; Beca has not forgotten her “first friend” but Chloe needs some help remembering (or vice versa; your choice). Do with it what you will

~~~~~~~~~

Beca stood there, absentmindedly playing with the lapel of her blazer staring at the red haired girl across the room. She had tried to get her attention by casually glancing every five seconds in her direction. So far, she had no luck. There was always someone or something in the way.

It wasn’t a big deal. It’s only been ten years that she’s been waiting to reunite with her childhood friend. They were eight years old the last time they had seen each other. Beca Mitchell a small scrappy little nobody of a girl who had somehow made friends with the most popular girl in school. She couldn’t forget the way she’d try her best to keep herself hidden away in the darkest corners of their small little school only to meet the ray of sunshine that was Chloe Beale moments later. Her crystal blue eyes. Her flaming red hair. Her hundred watt smile. All there for Beca. She truly did not deserve her. But she kept finding Beca every day she needed her until she could not be found anymore.

Now Beca was back. How foolish it was for her to think that Chloe would sense her presence and magically find her again. She probably was glad to be rid of Beca. Chloe was Beca’s first friend after all because Beca refused to have any others. She knew what trusting people brought her. Pain and heartache. Like her dad, who she adored, until he left her and her mom to raise another family. Her parents who cared more about fighting each other than caring for their crumbling daughter who could only watch as her family fell apart.

It was Chloe who comforted Beca during those times. Who found her hidden in the tower at the top of the playground’s tallest slide sobbing. Or under the school bleachers fighting the urge to hurt herself.

And now here delusional Beca thinking ten years later she would just be waiting there for her. Returning to the shell of her once beloved small town. A guest of her father in her last desperate attempt to secure funds to get to LA and become the famous DJ was destined to be.

She sighed and stared at her drink. A once piping cup of apple cider was now a pathetic shadow of a drink that now was just glorified apple juice. She needed a new drink. Let’s start there.

She weaved through the crowds to head towards the beverage station to freshen her cup. In her rush to try to avoid as many human bodies as possible, she slammed directly into someone just a foot away from her destination. “Shit, I’m sorry…” she grumbled. She didn’t need this. Can she just disappear already? Maybe she should leave the party all together. She looked up and was met with those same crystal blue eyes that she had spent so many night thinking about.

“Hey,” Chloe beamed back. Beca felt her nerves seize all her motor functions as the anxiety gripped her. She knew. Didn’t she? That was her Chloe. Saying hi. Say something.

“Totes okay,” the redhead’s eyes broke from hers and began to scan beyond her.

“CHLOE!!”

Beca had opened her mouth to say something and an entirely different voice shouted back. A blonde haired woman was waving across the room.

“AUBREY!!” She heard Chloe squeal back. And then she was gone. Swallowed up by another group of friends. None of which were Beca. This time accompanied by two men getting awfully close the blonde and redhead.

The brunette’s face twisted. Beca was speechless. What had just happened?

There were so many things she wanted to tell Chloe. That was her chance and she blew it.

Fuck.

She didn’t remember her either. This was a stupid idea.

Fuck.

Nice going, Mitchell.

She steeled herself up and threw her drink away.

Fuck this.

She needed some air. Maybe her dad wouldn't notice if she snuck away and walked home. In the snow. Miles away from anywhere she even remotely knew as familiar.

FUCK.

The room was suffocating her. It was hard enough being back in Barden in general, but familiarity of the banquet hall brought back a flood of memories. Crying as a little girl alone under a tablet after her parents fought the whole way to the party. The ever curious Chloe Beale investigating the noises coming from underneath the table cloth. Catching her dad a few years later cheating on her mom with his graduate student teaching assistant. Her mom had crumpled at the revelation. Chloe holding onto her tight as the world she knew disappeared right before her eyes. And now, even the sweetest memories, were tainted with regret.

There was a fire pit outside. A young couple vacated their seats as snow began to gently fall upon them. Beca hugged her coat tighter to herself and took an empty chair. She hugged her knees close to herself and let her feet peek over the edge of her seat. For a moment, all she did was watch as the snowflakes disappeared into the flames. Each followed by a tiny crackle as they poofed out of existence. She envied them.

It’s okay, she told herself. I can disappear in LA. I’ll find my place. If only through my music.

Any hope she had left of anyone else caring for her died when Chloe looked past her. It had been ten years. Of course, Chloe had new friends. Chloe had a new life. It was Beca who squandered her moments away. She pushed everyone who ever got close to her ever since away because her heart could not take anymore loss. She’ll be okay. Nothing new here.

She breathed in and let the pain consume her, but fought to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She would not break down. Not here. These people didn’t deserve to see that part of her. The loneliness was the other thing she could count on at this moment. She needed to find comfort in that and hold herself together.

“I got my ticket for the long way ‘round…'' she sang softly to herself. Her eyes were focused intensely on the flames that danced in the pit before her.

“Two bottle o’ whiskey for the way,” she let her arms fall lower until she hugged her ankles. She leaned the side of her head against one of her knees. “And I sure would like some sweet company. And I’m leaving tomorrow, what do you say?”

She imagined a twelve year old Chloe smiling down at Beca. Her arms around the brunette as she sobbed softly to herself. “I’d go anywhere with you, Beca. Promise.”

She felt the heat behind her eyelids grow strongrer. This was the song they sang together. Before she left. To remember her by. To help her from feeling lonely.

“When I’m gone…” she breathed in again. “When I’m gooonnnee,” she prolonged the last word. Sorrow dipping with each note.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

She shook her head.. Did she even notice she was gone? Why would she? You’re insignificant, Beca. Disappear. Push her away. Like anyone who gets close. You don’t want to feel this pain again.

No one will ever miss you. Your dad is proof of that. Chloe is proof of that. No one cares that you were gone.

“You're gonna miss me by my hair…”

Chloe’s red curls bouncing on her shoulders as she ran to hug Beca like she always did when she saw her. She will never smile at you again.

“You're gonna miss me everywhere…”

A new town. A new school. Not a familiar face. Yet the ghost of feeling. Peering around each corner hoping to have a glimpse of her favorite redhead to save her from herself. The only person who knew how to soothe the constant ache in her heart.

“Oh, you’re sure gonna miss me when I'm gone.”

If only.

“When I’m gone…” she choked back this time as she tried to hold her emotions at bay. A single tear escaped while it had a chance. She quickly wiped away the evidence.

Don’t feel it.

“When I’m gone…” she let the note ride her roller coaster with her. She took a deeper breath this time, ready to release her sorrow into each following note.

“You're gonna miss me when I'm gone,” her eyes widened as a voice sang softly in unison behind her. Their eyes met. Chloe’s eyes softened as she half smiled back at Beca. There was a pause as they stared at each other.

The blood rushed to Beca’s face. All she could was the thumping of her heart in a moment that dragged into eternity. Chloe raised her eyebrows and nodded encouraging her to continue.

“You're gonna miss me by my walk. You're gonna miss me by my talk,” she sang as Chloe accompanied her. “You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.”

They smiled at each other. There was a pause as they reveled at how perfectly their voices melded together once more.

Chloe was the first to speak. She sat next to Beca, curling up her knees under the dress she wore. Beca continued to push Converse shoes up against the edge of her seat, scraping the sole back and forth out of habit, choosing instead to focus her actual attention on the woman in front of her.

“I love that song…” Chloe smiled. Her eyes watching the flow of the flames this time. “I used to sing it with my best friend.”

Beca stopped fidgeting then. Her breath began to go shallow.

Did she… remember…?

If Chloe noticed Beca’s change in behavior, she didn’t acknowledge it. Her eyes squinted as she began recalling distant memories. “My mom used to sing it to me before… Before… she passed away,” she swallowed hard. “It was our song. I used to wish…” she paused, searching for the right words to explain the old broken pieces of her heart. She shook her head. There were no words to explain it. She moved on.

“I found her,” she began. “My best friend, not my mom,” she giggled to herself, realizing the sudden change in subjects. “She was crying one day… At a party… kind of like this one,” she looked around, her eyes tracing the twinkling lights lined along the roof of the banquet hall next to them. The various garlands wrapping around each pillar standing alongside the entrance. “Her parents used to fight all the time. It was the first one they had and she was so afraid. She was afraid of losing either of them.”

She began to recall the first night. A younger dark haired girl sniffling in the corner. “I don’t know…” the little girl began, crying on her best friend's shoulder. “I don’t want to choose… Where am I supposed to go?”

“So we’d sing that song together. Like my mom and I used to. To remind us, that no matter what happened. A piece of us would always follow them.”

“You… remember that?”

“Yeah… of course I do,” the redhead scoffed, staring back at Beca in disbelief. “You’re a hard one to find Beca Mitchell.” She smiled and nodded towards her.

“You… remember me.. ?”

“Of course I do! You may be able to hide from everyone else, but I always find you eventually. The moment I looked into your eyes, I knew it was you. You’re Beca Mitchell. It’s been… years…”

Beca didn’t know what to say. She thought back to how Chloe had left her to join the blonde and the two men inside.

“My friend flagged me down and the moment I turned back you were gone,” Chloe explained as if she were reading her mind. “”I thought you might have run away out here. It’s very Beca-ish.”

“I spent most of my life hiding. And yet, you’d always find me… Until I left…” Beca’s eyes were distant as she recalled the day she moved away with her mom. She didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. “I just thought you forgot about me. Like everyone else. I’m… forgettable...”

“You’re anything but forgettable.” Chloe paused then, her eyebrows knit together in concern. “I guess, I’m the opposite,” she shrugged. For a moment, Chloe’s light began to flicker. She tried to keep it burning strong, but Beca noticed her sunny exterior fade for the smallest millisecond. “I never heard from you after that night. What happened, Beca?” It was Chloe’s turn find the hem of her dress to be the most interesting creation in the world.

“I didn’t know what to say. My dad left us… For that graduate student…And my mom… She couldn’t stay here anymore. She was broken for a long time, Chlo. Before we knew it I had my life packed up. I could barely function.” Beca thought back to a hollowed out younger version of herself. The little girl drained of all emotion to stay strong for her mother. “It was too late then. I couldn’t go back. Not even for you.”

Beca felt warm arms wrap around her then. Chloe had stood up and knelt in front of her. The dam she tried to shore up began to crumble then as she sobbed into Chloe’s shoulder, just like she did so many years ago.

“It’s okay, Beca… I know… shhh…” she kissed the top of the other girl’s head. Her hands rubbed her arms to soothe her. “I kind of figured it out when I heard your dad had married Sheila. I tried to find out where you went but no one knew where you two had gone.”

Both women were quiet then as they recalled the last moments they had together in their youth. Chloe didn’t have the words to admit the days she spent searching for Beca. How she expected the brunette to magically appear at her house to pour out her heart once again. How it took her a long time to return back to normal, or close to normal, but never finding anyone like Beca again.

Beca thought back to the days shortly after leaving Barden. Writing letters and throwing away letters to her best friend. Wondering if it would ever matter. Maybe Chloe was better off without her too. But oh, did it feel right to be in her arms again.

“So… does this mean you’re back… or…?” Chloe leaned back to look at Beca. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she waited for an answer.

“I… don’t know…” Beca swallowed. She thought about her father’s proposal about college again. “My dad has been pestering me about college.” She rolled her eyes and sniffed, wiping the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

Chloe giggled. She missed Beca’s I-don’t-care-but-I-really-do facade. God, did she miss her. “Well… I do go to Barden University… So I can give you a tour if you’re staying for a while.”

“Yeah?” Beca half smiled back at her old best friend.

“Yeah…” Chloe beamed back at her. “And we totally have this awesome aca-pella group you HAVE to audition for.”

Beca cringed and bit her tongue between her front teeth. “Seriously? You do that shit… for fun? Maybe I’ll just go back into hiding...”

Chloe frowned then and Beca’s heart dropped. Shit. “I mean…” she started to back track.

Chloe tilted her head knowingly towards Beca. “Seriously, Mitchell. You can hide, but I’ll find you when you least expect it,” she winked back.

Beca smiled. Genuinely smiled. Maybe things will be okay after all.

#merry pitchmas 2020 #bechloe #angst #childhood friends #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe fanfiction

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chavacerilla · 4 years ago

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chava fluff alphabet

a/n: i’ve noticed a significant lack of fanfiction for my main chava, and by significant lack i mean there’s literally nothing here. so here it is, a whole ass alphabet for my husband i love him word count: 9232

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Chava finds everything attractive about you, but most importantly, he loves your smile. There’s something so special about how you sparkle at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling and your cheeks so perfectly rounded. The apples of your cheeks fit so perfectly in his hands, and he loves to capture your grin between his palms. If he could, he would keep your smile in his pocket until the end of his days, but that would mean it would cease to be yours, and that’s too much of a price to pay. So he settles for making you beam as often as he can, and basks in the warmth that covers his skin.

But above all, there’s no better feeling than the way you smile into his kiss, your teeth gently pressed against his lips, and he can’t help but pull you in again and again. He swears it’s his destiny to have fallen for the sunshine you pour into his life, and the days only get brighter.

Is there anything about Chava Cerilla that isn’t attractive?

The most attractive thing about Chava is his demeanor. He’s both the sharpest thorn and softest petal of a rose. He’s the perfect description of someone your mother would’ve called “rough around the edges,” but every time you meet his gaze, you know immediately that he’s got his entire heart open just for you. Anything you could possibly ask for, Chava’s ready and willing to get for you.

He’s passionate – every brush of his skin burns with affection. His eyes are constantly thoughtful, yet so, so intense. And God, when he pulls you into his strong arms, you feel so lucky that he’s got you, because you could absolutely just melt into his touch.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Chava absolutely wants a family. He can’t wait to have as many kids as possible, and let them run free along the plantation. There’s such a wealth of knowledge he’s attained that he wants to be able to pass along – what color of coffee cherries are the most perfect, the fastest route through the hedge maze, and even how to tie your shoes so they don’t come undone during the day.

There’s so much that your abuela taught Chava that he wishes to teach to someone else – or hopefully, a few someones. When Chava sees you, sitting in his passenger seat, staring out into the Colombian sky, he sees a future. A beautiful, wonderful future full of children and laughter and watching movies even though there might be school the next day. He remembers the days that you had together when you were young. Stories of abuela and Aurora and the mornings around the plantation are dying to be told to young ears. Those days full of imagination and wonder for the world.

He knows that he’ll see a glimpse of it again, if not now, then at the very most, the moment you both lay eyes on your firstborn. That feeling of magic is sure to come back when you finally, after all this time, have a child of your own. Together.

He knows he’ll cry immediately, overwhelmed with love at first sight. Oh, how he hopes that your kids will have your eyes – your abuela’s eyes – and a little piece of her will stay alive through them. He knows that he’ll kiss you both constantly until the end of his days. He’s not scared of waking up in the middle of the night to change diapers and never getting any real sleep again. Chava’s so excited, and would be reading parenting books and talking to all the townspeople, just to try and be prepared for what he knows is the most terrifying thing in most people’s lives. He’d stay up for hours talking to Aurora about Lucia and what her experience was like, wondering about how he can be the best father that he can be. His dream is to be the kind of parent your abuela was to him.

Everyone in town would be buzzing about Chava Cerilla’s first child. The descendant of La Dama Roja. Las Tres Hermanas would be teaching him how to braid hair, even though they know he wouldn’t need to know for another couple of years at least, but he asked so sweetly, how were they supposed to say no? Old man Beto would be handing off a new checkers set, and joking about how he always knew you two were meant for each other. Beto would sit with Chava for hours, just teaching him checkers strategies, that he knows Chava wouldn’t need for a long time, but Beto knows he might not be around long enough for that, so he gives what he can now.

You know that your children would be so massively, totally loved, by not just you and Chava, but the entire town. Still, it’s hard not to be afraid of having children. All that power to shape an entire person for better or for worse – it’s terrifying. But Chava has your back. Forever. It’s a lifelong commitment, but he’s never been more ready to commit to anything, especially when it comes to you.

Oh, and there’s going to be so many times when he falls asleep with your kids safely resting on his chest, cuddled up against him, a small sleepy smile resting on his face.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Overall, Chava’s a huge cuddler. He loves any way he can feel your touch against him. Your warmth is just a comfort to him, and the endlessly strong and brave man for a moment just becomes your lover. He doesn’t have a specific preference, but his go to is just pulling you close to him, letting your head rest on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat will be music to your ears, and the way you draw shapes on his skin makes his heart ache towards yours. It’s the best way to see the sky above you, whether you’re in the back of his truck or laying out in the fields. He counts the stars reflected in your eyes before pulling you into his kiss, soft and languid against your lips.

He loves feeling able like he can protect you from anything, and wrapping you in his arms is a wordless way to speak his truth: he will love and defend you for all his life. Touch is really important to him, and it’s definitely one of his top love languages. When it’s hard to explain how he really feels, he’ll hold you, rest his head on top of yours, and just breathe. You’ll understand.

That’s what it’s like to be in love.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Going on dates together would be the sweetest nostalgia mixed with the excitement of getting to know each other. Spending most of your life apart, he’d have so many stories to tell you as you walk through the streets, arm in arm, until you get to your destination.

If you went for dinner together, he’d hold your hand across the table, squeezing it every time he remembers he loves you more than the world. Fancy dinners would be far and few between, but there’s nothing he’d love more than to see you dressed up. He’d put on his suit, and you’d get ready together, gently humming to music as you sit on the bathroom counter to put your makeup on. While he runs his fingers through his curls, you’d press your freshly glossed lips to his cheek. A smile would cross his face, but a fire sparks within his eyes as he pulls you into his arms, peppering soft kisses against your face as your laughs bounce off the bathroom tiles. One of his favorite moments is when you finally slip into your dress, and you share the intimate silence as he zips you up, his warm hands running over the fabric and he’ll whisper under his breath,

“How did I get so lucky?”

Each and every date ensures that he can lay his entire heart out for you. And in all honesty, that just means having a place where he can feel the world melt out under his feet until it’s just the two of you. It could be absolutely anywhere, just as long as he can see you smiling.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my wish come true.

Chava spent years wishing on fireflies or “baby stars” as you would call them back when you were kids. Each time he walked through the cool night, he’d see those estrellitas and his heart would ache. His lips would move before he could even process what he was saying, and your name would fall into the open air.

“Regresa a mi.” (Return to me)

And every night, he’d walk through his maze, the soft grass crunching underneath the sole of his boot, and count the estrellitas until he lost himself in wishes for your return to Colombia. Sometimes, he’d bump into your abuela while wandering the plantation, and they’d walk underneath the milky moonlight, and she’d tell him stories of the two of you.

For a long time, he hid that he wanted to see you again. He would pretend like he was just asking out of curiosity. “When will she come back? Is she ever coming back?” and abuela started to pick up that his curiosity was not as simple as he had made it seem.

One night, he told abuela that he wanted to see you again back in Colombia. He told her it was his greatest wish. She smiled a knowing smile, and rested her frail hand on the side of his face.

“Chava, mijito, do you remember when you were little? She came when the sun was hot and you couldn’t bear to leave each other’s sides. Not for a single moment.

You were running around, playing tag, and she tripped up the stairs on the porch. My poor granddaughter, sitting on the steps. Her lip was pushed out all the way to the ocean and her eyes were full of tears. I remember wondering if she could even see.

But Chava, do you remember what you did?”

“No, abuelita. Not a clue.”

“You went right up to her and gathered that girl into your arms. She cried and cried and you just held her for as long as it took for her to calm down. I thought someone was going to call the police because of her wailing. Pero, Chava, you stroked her hair and wiped each of her tears away -”

“I did?”

“Are you surprised?”

“No.”

“Then let me continue.

Once she stopped crying, you picked her up and carried her into the house. You were both so small, so sweet. But you set her down on the couch and ran as fast as you could to get the bandages. When you returned, you wiped up the dried blood from her and when you placed the bandage on her knee, you pressed a besito to it, then you stayed on the couch together until you fell asleep.

And that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what, abuela?”

“I knew you loved her, mijito, and I knew you were going to love her for the rest of your life.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Chava never had a defining moment to tell him he was in love with you. He’s always been in love with you. From the first moment you stepped onto the plantation, Chava has had his entire heart full of love for you.

Back then, it was just puppy love. His heart yearned to be with yours, but he didn’t know why. He walked with you wherever you wanted, played every game you wanted to play, and when you played house together, he’d kiss you on the cheek when he left “for work” and would tell you he loved you before the playhouse door shut behind him.

By the time he turned sixteen, it was beginning to be something more. He’d stare at the swirling ceiling, praying for the summer to come again. Though the heat could be excruciating and the sweat would pour down his back, you were the coolest shade and the sweetest lemonade. He’d suffer through it all for just a day by your side, capturing the tadpoles in the pond. You were his first kiss, and God, if he thought he loved you then, it was only going to get worse.

The summer before he turned twenty, he accepted he was in love with you. No other girl in town had compared to the time he spent with you. He’d never felt a connection to anyone the way he did to you. Your hearts were tied together even though you were 1600 miles apart. He spent hours poring over English books abuela gave him, just so he could put it into words. He never really had anything more planned than “I love you” but he was ready. He was so ready.

But you never came back.

Abuela said something bad happened to your parents, and you weren’t coming this summer. He’d never wanted anything more than to just hold you like he used to, and tell you he’d love you for the rest of his life. But how was he supposed to tell you, when you were so far away?

Every summer after that, he waited patiently for the day he’d finally tell you he loved you. And by the time he turned 24, he’d just accepted that you weren’t coming home. Not to him. Though his feelings could only grow stronger, his walls grew as he found himself more and more inside El Fantasma’s grasp.

And Chava loved you enough to let you be.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He’s so endlessly gentle. But he’s not afraid you’ll break. He holds you with reverence. You’re everything to him, and he’s constantly in awe of every part of you. Chava’s entire life has been building up to you, and when you’re with him, sometimes he forgets you’re not part of his imagination and you won’t fade away at his touch. His lips press softly against yours, his hands resting easy on your skin, and you just melt into him.

That doesn’t mean he’s not passionate though. When Chava really shows his passion and devotion to you, it makes your head completely spin. He’ll pull you against him and leave you breathless. He’ll steal all the air from your lungs and claim it as his own, clinging to you, because finally, his whole world is in his arms.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Chava’s hands are always on you, whether that be on the small of your back or interlocking your fingers together or letting his hand rest on your thigh as he drives his truck.

He likes holding your left hand, knowing that one day you’ll wear his ring on it. The fact that you hold his right hand is a gesture that you’re his priority. And when you switch sides and hold his left hand with your right, he gives his dominant hand to you, because you were always the one destined to hold it.

His thumb constantly grazes the back of your hand, memorizing the feeling of your skin underneath his. He’ll press soft kisses against your hand, and if you close your eyes, you can feel him whispering between kisses,

“I love you.”

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Chava doesn’t remember the first time you came into his life. He was too young. You were just there. Not all the time, obviously, but the impact you made was permanent, in the same way meteors strike the earth. When you were gone, there was an obvious crater – a hole – in his life.

But there is one person who remembers.

One day, while on his walks with abuela, he got curious.

“Abuelita, do you remember when she first came to Colombia?”

“Sí, mijito.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Siéntate, Chava.

You were very small. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. They were coming for the summer, just when she was old enough to fly on the plane without causing too much of a ruckus. But they had just landed, mijo, and you were so excited that someone else was coming to visit.

I’d told you that you’d have a new friend about a month before, and you wouldn’t stop asking when they’d be here. I told you that if you kept asking, they wouldn’t show up, because you’d get too annoying. But you were hoping to become best friends, and I didn’t have the heart to tell you that they’d only be here for the summer.

So when they finally got here, I could see how excited you were. You didn’t stop smiling all day, and you chased each other around the fields until the moon was high in the sky. You didn’t know her yet, but she immediately became your favorite person in your small world. She was always special to you, from the moment you laid your little brown eyes on her.”

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Chava can get a little hot headed and jealous at times. Abuela wanted you to marry either him or Sergio, and God, every time that lawyer is around you, he could honestly punch him in the face. He won’t say anything for sure, because he doesn’t want to come across as controlling, and he knows you’re allowed to live your life as you wish, but that doesn’t mean he won’t stare daggers at Sergio.

When the lawyer comes up to you, Chava will pull you just a little closer to him, his strong arms tense around your waist. From the corner of your eye you can see his jaw clench and the vein in his neck bulge as the heat surges in his chest.

But you stand on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek, and you practically hear his heartbeat falling steady again. He’ll close his eyes, feeling the warmth of your lips against his skin and take a deep breath.

He’ll remember that you belong fully to each other, and peace washes over him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

It’s kind of strange to think about, but Chava is experienced, no doubt about it. It’s a small town, and he’s definitely not a bad option. So over the course of his life, he’s been on a few dates and found himself in a few relationships. Though they didn’t work out, he learned every trick of the trade and put them in his back pocket, just waiting for the day you return home to Colombia.

For Chava, the best part of a kiss is the anticipation. You meet his eyes, hazy with need, and as you lean closer, he always takes a moment to wait. He breathes in the air from your lungs, forever trying to describe the feeling bubbling within him before he rushes towards you, finally letting your lips connect.

Each kiss languidly pressed against your lips is heaven on earth. His hands are constantly pulling you closer to him, holding your face, or tangled in your hair. He can’t stop how his hands desperately roam over you, constantly losing himself in your kiss. He loves to start slowly, letting his tongue drag across your bottom lip, and then as time moves, his heart beats faster and his kisses get more and more wanting until you’re dizzy from it all.

But it wasn’t always like that.

The first time you kissed, it was during the hot Colombian summer.

Chava sat on Abuela’s bed, the early dawn pouring over his tan skin.

“Abuelita, did you know she was my first kiss?”

“Dime, por favor.” (please, tell me)

“It was probably mid-July. Really, really hot, so we jumped into the creek. I brought one of those little plastic bags so we could catch tadpoles, and we ended up getting two in one bag. They’re always so fast, she was convinced that they couldn’t be separated. They were in love.

So she said they wanted to get married. They had to get married. So we spend all day, running around and picking flowers off the coffee shrubs to decorate the riverbed. She taught me how to make those – cómo se dice –

Daisy chains.

So we spend all day, weaving stems and flowers, preparing for this wedding, and as it started to get dark, we put fireflies in your jars.”

“Dios mio. My jars?”

“Lo siento, abuela. But yes, your jars. She would run after them, capture them in her hands, and I’d hold the jar. I just wanted to feel her hands against mine.”

Abuela reached out with soft eyes to put her hand on Chava’s cheek, running her frail thumb over his stubble. “Ay, mijo.”

“I know, I know. But once we had everything set up, and we were about to start the wedding, it was dark. I was holding the tadpoles in their bag. There was no moon. No light. And with only the fireflies to light the path, I slipped in the mud, and I- Abuelita, I knocked over all the jars and then I dropped the bag. The tadpoles, they swam away. My heart just sank.

It was all she wanted, all day, and I ruined it.”

“Oh, Chava, you didn’t mean it. Your legs were always so funny when you were young. She probably knew it was an accident.”

For a moment, Chava let his walls fall, laying down against the sheets and pressing his cheek into the pillows. Abuela ran her hand along the side of his face, brushing her fingers through his hair as he loses himself in the guilt of an action that happened over a decade ago.

“I still felt so horrible. And as I was sitting there, covered in mud, she sat down next to me. I was confused, obviously. She was wearing that white dress you bought her from the tailor. I remember thinking I’d ruined that too.

Pero, she leaned over to me, and she kissed me. I think she wanted to make me feel better. But Abuelita – I’ve never experienced another kiss like that.”

“Chava – mijito. That was a kiss of true love.”

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Even though Chava frequently is known for treading lightly, planning each step before he takes it, he tends to run into everything headfirst when it comes to you.

He says I love you first.

One night, you were walking through the plantation together. The moon was high in the sky, the stars twinkling brightly overhead. Hand in hand, you let the wind lead your steps, and you found yourselves at the entrance on the hedge maze.

Without a word or a second glance, you dart inside, immediately hearing Chava’s laugh ring through the air as he gives chase. You seemingly move without any sense of direction, but you’re determined run makes him smile.

From a distance, he hears your delighted giggles as you reach a dead end. As you turn to face him, he sees your palms cupped together, hiding something in the space between.

Your voice is almost a whisper as your eyes soften towards him, “Chava, come see.”

As you let your hands open, a single firefly soars from between your fingers. Immediately, Chava’s sucked back into the memory of your first kiss, fireflies dancing around your heads, as your lips fell against his.

Overwhelmed with the feeling once again, he leans in to kiss you, holding you tight against him. The way your mouth grazes against his feels like home, and he can’t believe he’s finally returned to it.

He says what he’s known his entire life.

“I love you.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

One time, Chava spent the whole summer talking about glow-in-the-dark stars. He saw them on abuela’s tv once, some infomercial that lasted way too long in between cartoons. But he was immediately taken by how cool they seemed. He’d never seen anything like it, but he desperately wanted some.

He didn’t actually spend every minute of every day talking about it, but he did spend a lot of time hoping to see them one day. You thought they were cool, but knowing Chava liked them too only made them better.

So immediately after you returned to the United States, you begged your parents to get you some. You begged and begged until they gave in, taking you to the store to pick out your very own glow-in-the-dark stars. But you didn’t put them up. You shoved them into your suitcase until next summer, not wanting to ever forget them. They’ll be safe there.

But the problem was that glow-in-the-dark stars don’t last that long. By the time you opened up your suitcase the next June, they had long lost their glow, becoming faded green plastic. Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you thought about how you’d disappoint Chava, but you didn’t dare tell your parents. You felt like they’d scold you for waiting so long. To make them buy a present that you’d eventually give to someone else.

So you packed them anyways, and when your parents parked the car on the plantation, you got out and ran straight into his arms, sobbing and clutching useless stars. He hugged you tight, immediately asking what was wrong.

“Chava, I ruined them.” You cried, showing him the box.

He furrowed his brow and marched you straight into the house, through the kitchen, and into the pantry. Closing the door, he inspected the stars through the clear plastic, and ripped open the package. They spilled out, scattering along the wood floors, but he noticed one, faint, green glow underneath a bag of rice.

A single star, surviving the test of time.

It was one of the widest smiles he’s ever worn. He was amazed by how beautiful it was, even though he’d never seen them in their full glory. You spent the next hour in there, taking turns making wishes on the faded plastic star until the pantry door swung wide open.

Abuela stood before you, hands on her hips.

“There you two are! I have a surprise for both of you.”

And in her hands were glowing green galaxies.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He loves to worship you in any way he possibly can. He presses kisses to your lips every morning and every night and every chance between. Chava doesn’t necessarily have the means to spoil, but he’d be damned if he didn’t show you his love every single day. You’re technically the rich one in the relationship now, with the sixteen-million-dollar estate. Chava’s just the plantation manager. It doesn’t bother him that you’re the one with the money, but he still saves up to buy you anything that you may mention in passing.

You could mention one night that you wish you had some mint chocolate chip ice cream, only to find it in the freezer the next night. It’s all the little things together that Chava loves to do for you. He’ll always bring you breakfast in the mornings, no matter what. He’d even try to do it when he’s sick, but you have to shove him back into bed and trade places for a day.

And even after everything he does, at the end of each day, he shows up with a red rose from the florist in town. He couldn’t go a day without showing you he’s so madly, truly in love with you.

It’d drive him insane if you didn’t know.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

When you think of Chava, you think of green. Green like the everlasting Colombian coffee fields he walks through. Green like the hedge maze he’d spent so long cultivating to perfection. Green like the strength and calm you can see always running through him. The warm emerald green that shines through Chava makes you feel safe and secure.

While you walk through the plantation, and you run your hands through vibrant green leaves, you can’t help but think of Chava. His hands have loved every branch of every tree along this plantation over and over again. You think of those same hands running along your skin, and instantly feel the shivers running down your spine.

Green is the color of his love for you, ever growing and endlessly full of life.

When Chava thinks of you, he thinks of the deep blue night. The beautiful, almost black sky littered with flecks of shimmering stars. He thinks of the nights you spend collecting fireflies, running underneath the swirling, oceanic heavens. The deep blue is stable and trustworthy. He’d never doubt how the night returns after the sun sets, and he’d never doubt you. Not in a million years.

As he lays underneath the sky, he hears your voice in the constellations, deep and rich. You’re such a different kind of lovely to him, you might as well be royalty. He knows how beautiful the blue would be against your skin, and spends time just imagining it with a smile spread wide across his face.

Also he’s heard of the phrase “something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue” and he cannot wait for the day. His sky, his heaven, his deep blue ocean, his world, forever becoming his.

That’s what blue means to him.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Chava uses a lot of different pet names. There’s not one word that can fully express how he feels for you, so he uses them as he sees fit. His two favorites are “mi alma” (my soul) and “mi cielito” (my little heaven). You’re the most important thing in his world, and the other half of the heart he feels like he’s always been missing.

When you were young, and you’d play house together, he’d come “home from work” and call you “cariño” (sweetheart). It’s what his parents called each other, when his father would come home and kiss his mother on the cheek. He’s always wished for their kind of love, and now he has it.

Sometimes he calls you “estrellita,” remembering all those nights he spent wishing on fireflies for you. On those teeny, tiny stars, sitting in the palm of your hand. Other days, he calls you "mi sol” (my sun), thinking of how your radiance exceeds that of any star, but is the reason his whole world is warm and vibrant.

When he calls you “mi media naranja,” he’s thinking of everything you shared during the summers, splitting everything down the middle (though secretly, he’d always give you just a little bit more). Mi media naranja translates literally to “my half an orange,” but more closely translates to English as “my soulmate.” One half of an orange only has another perfect half. Chava is absolutely sure you’re his.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Chava doesn’t keep his phone on him at all times. It’s never really been necessary, because he knows where everyone on the plantation is at all times. If someone’s deviated from their usual schedule, someone else knows where they are. He’ll leave it somewhere like on the bedside table or the kitchen counter, and when you try to call him, you’ll hear it ringing throughout the house. You end up settling on the fact that it’s easier to just shout from your house and play telephone until he comes to the house, chest heaving because he ran from wherever he just was.

He’ll plop down on your bed, trying to catch his breath as you smile, placing a hand gently on his heated cheeks.

“So what do you want for dinner?”

“Cariño, did you really call me over for this?”

“It’s important!”

He sighs playfully, running callused fingers through his hair, “I’ll come back early and we can make empanadas together.”

He stands back up, wiping the wrinkles out of his clothes. Leaning down to meet your gaze, his warm hand lands on the side of your face. The pad of his thumb brushes against your skin as he whispers, “You’re lucky you’re very pretty, mi alma.”

And with a kiss, he’ll pop out the door and back to the field.

As someone who doesn’t use his phone very often, Chava’s a huge fan of handwritten notes. Not always the kind that are sent in the mail, but the kind that are left along the refrigerator and on your nightstand. He writes a lot of things down constantly, to remember everything that happens. A notepad and pen sit in his jacket pocket to use at all times.

He’s constantly got a lot of responsibilities, and he keeping track of it all is important.

But inside his notebook is a bunch of little notes you’ve left him that he’s shoved back between the rings and pages.

“Have a good day, Chava!”

“I love you.”

“I hope it’s not too hot!”

And he’ll leave you little notes back and leave them around the house.

“Mi cielito, I’m going to be home late, no need to wait up. Lo siento.”

“Thinking of you, mi sol. - Chava”

“I cannot wait to kiss you again. I will kiss you a thousand times over. xx”

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the days get rainy, Chava likes to spend his time outside.

During some of his more troubled days, frustrated with the loss of his parents and the treatment of him and Aurora, Abuela would take him into the open green grass and stand him underneath the pouring rain.

“Chava, feel your tears and let la lluvia wash it away.”

The rain pelted his skin, stinging his nerves until he could no longer feel anything else.

Thunder crashed into his ears, leaving him deaf and quieting his thoughts.

Lightning striking in the distance illuminated his tan skin, highlighting the tears streaming along his cheeks, now indeterminate from the rain.

The salt of his sobs covered his tongue as he fell to his knees in the dirt.

The metallic smell of iron and red blood washed away, leaving only the earthy scent of fresh rain in its wake.

Abuela held Chava as he howled and wept with the rushing wind, rocking him as she whispered,

“Mijo, replace your senses with la lluvia.”

So when it rains, he has the tendency to drop everything and stand in the rain. He doesn’t necessarily want to be alone, so if you go up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling the weight of his body against yours, you can just barely hear him beneath the storm,

“Only la lluvia.”

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Chava’s not too good at cheering himself up. He tries pretty hard not to be sad too often. And with everything that’s happened in his life, he’s built up pretty big walls to hold off the pain. It’s a lot easier to feel nothing than the hardship brewing inside of him.

Yet, to feel is to live.

If he’s feeling down, he won’t push it away by trying to cheer himself up. He’ll take the wave as it crashes over his head, and wait for the current to bring him back up. You’ll find him either walking around and letting his thoughts lead his steps, or nursing a beer and losing himself within the starry sky. Sometimes both.

But he usually does most of it alone.

Chava lets time sweep him off of his aching feet, falling into his memories. Once he finds the source of his pain, he chooses to explore it.

One of the guys he works with on the plantation just had his second child. He was struck with thoughts of his parents, before the fear of El Fantasma.

The gaping hole left in his heart hurts, but he pushes his focus to what he loves, rather than what he’s lost.

He remembers the times he and Aurora and his parents were all able to be laughing on one room. He remembers the sound of their voices bouncing against the walls. He remembers how they always smiled until long after the sun had set, singing songs and telling stories they had already heard.

The pain in his chest slowly subsides to a sweet nostalgia for the life he once lived.

Unable to stand by any longer, you approach him slowly, letting your shadow touch him before you do. The moment you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you close to his chest, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

“Chava?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

When you look up into his hazel eyes, you see tears brimming over the rims. You push them away with the pad of your thumb, a gentle promise for better days.

“I will be, mi amor, I will be.”

But when you’re sad, Chava wouldn’t dare leave you alone. He pulls you into his arms, replacing every one of your thoughts with his heartbeat. The warmth of his fingers pour over your skin as he runs them up and down your arms.

He immediately jumps up to get cookies and milk so you can indulge in the sweetness and while truly feeling your sadness. You smile immediately at the gesture, chocolate chip cookies warmed until they’re gooey on the inside and soft from the milk.

After that, he lies there with you until you feel like talking about it, until your tears run dry and your smile returns to your face. And if you don’t feel like talking about it then, he’ll do anything he can to make you comfortable until you do. He’ll give you all the blankets and pillows from around the house to build a fort for you and turn on some gentle music to let you process your thoughts.

Chava will never let you get too far into your sadness. He’ll always pull you back.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Chava talks a lot about the past and the future loves to reminisce and daydream. He’s always the nostalgic about what has been, but even more so a romantic for what could be.

“Mi cielito, do you remember when we were very young? You had just gotten out of school and come straight here. They taught you how to ballroom dance, and you’d won first place in the school competition.”

“Yes! I thought it’d be fun to teach you. You always stepped on my foot, but abuela said we would’ve won any competition.”

“She said it was because we cared so much for each other, it showed in every movement.”

“Do you think she knew that we’d end up together?”

Chava laughs, wrapping an arm tight around you. “Think? She knew. She only spoke English to me for an entire year, just so I could be able to talk to you when you came back.”

“She did?”

“Oh yes. She said ‘Chava, you have to meet her where she’s at. You must learn English.’”

“That sounds like abuela.”

“She also said we’d have really beautiful children.”

“Do you think we would?”

“I know we would.” He hums, staring up at the ceiling. “A little girl then a little boy. Like me and Aurora. They’d have your smile.”

“What if they had your smile?”

“They won’t. I know they won’t.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Chava turns to meet your eyes, resting his hand on the side of your face, “Your smile is much too beautiful to not be passed on to our kids.”

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Chava is usually just a little bit tense. With El Fantasma constantly watching, he’s not usually very relaxed. He tries his best not to let it interfere with his life, but once he’s had a target on his back for as long as he could remember.

Being with you is a good way to get him to relax. He’ll smile bigger, let his laugh become a little louder, sit back in his chair for once. Sometimes, you’ll go run and pull out the old board games, and you’ll play for hours. You’ll hate him by the end of Monopoly, but you’ll see him genuinely relax with a beer in hand and all the properties on his side. It always makes you smile.

And although he’s pretty relaxed around you, he’s cautious. He’s aware of every noise and shadow. Especially with someone gunning for you as well, he wouldn’t dare let anything happen to you.

But sometimes, when the sun has long set, he’ll walk around the house. The wind guides his feet, and he just wanders from room to room, seemingly lost in thought. But if you’re quiet enough, observant enough, you’ll see his lips moving. He’s barely audible, but he speaks. It’s quick, and mostly in Spanish, but you don’t need to know what he’s saying to know what he’s doing.

He’s talking to your grandmother.

“Today was nice. The sun was bright. We haven’t heard from El Fantasma in while, which is both good and slightly worrying.”

He smiles softly to himself, running his fingers through his curls. “I think I might propose soon. It’s been a long time coming, I know it and you know it. I find it funny how you’ve known it all our lives.”

With a chuckle, he turns, and you duck back into the shadows around the corner. “I still have the ring you got me. I thought I’d never have a use for it. I think you were the only person who thought she’d come back.”

He flops down onto the couch, staring at the warm yellow ceiling light. “I’m glad you were right.”

He gets quiet enough that you can no longer hear him, and for a second you’re not sure he’s even talking anymore. He is.

“I want to ask for your blessing, abuela.”

When Chava sits up, you see him smiling.

You quickly run back to the room, trying to be as quiet as possible as the lights around the house flicker off. Jumping into the bed, you curl into the warmth of your blanket as Chava’s shadow begins to trail down the hallway.

The cool Colombian night washes over you as Chava lifts up the blanket, but as soon as he slips in next to you, you’re enveloped into the warmth that you’ve fallen so in love with. You can feel the tension released from his muscles as you wrap your arms around him.

You send a silent thank you to your abuela.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Chava definitely likes showing off his body just a little bit. He works all day around the plantation, just building up muscle. It’s hard not to be proud of the fact that he looks really good.

But he won’t ever explicitly tell you about it. His shirts are very well fitted across his broad shoulders. It’s hard to keep your eyes from travelling over the fabric as he flexes.

He knows.

The whole town knows.

There’s been a few murmurs here and there of strip poker sessions, many months before you showed up but so late in the night that the sun dares to rise. And alongside every single murmur is Chava’s name.

They speak of how the shady bar lights drag across his tan skin and over his muscles. How he throws his shirt over his shoulder before sitting back in his chair and bringing a beer to his lips.

There’s a favorite moment of yours, though.

God, the moment he puts his truck into reverse, setting his hand on the back of your headrest as he stretches to look behind you. His jawline somehow manages to get sharper as the muscles in his neck pull, exposing skin that you desperately want to run your lips over.

He can see the blush crawling up on your cheeks as you stare at him. It’s shameless, but you truly can’t help but take in the moment. He’ll bite his lip to stop a smirk, and raise an eyebrow at you, feigning innocence until you crash your lips against his.

W = Wedding (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Chava’s thought of your wedding for most of his life. He couldn’t help it, especially with abuela being part of his planning committee. She had a binder at the ready, with everything that she wanted to be a part of your wedding.

“Pero, abuela, this isn’t your wedding!”

“Chava, I do not care.”

It had to be on the plantation. It had to be, or else abuela might come back and crash your wedding. She also wanted red roses, specifically.

So when the moment came that he thought about proposing, he went to get the binder. It lives on the highest shelf in the house, high enough that abuela always used a chair to grab it down, and high enough that you’d never look up that far.

The binder weighed heavy in his hands, and he looked at the first page.

Chava, when you’re ready to propose, I have a ring. Ask Beto.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Besame Mucho.

Besame mucho, como si fuera esta noche la última vez – Kiss me a lot, as if this night were the last time.

Que tengo miedo perderte después – for I’m afraid I will lose you afterwards.

Quiero sentirte muy cerca, mirarme en tus ojos, verte junto a mí – I want to feel you close, to look at myself in your eyes, to see you close to me

Piensa que tal vez mañana, yo ya estaré lejos, muy lejos de ti – I think that maybe by tomorrow, I will already be far, far away from you

Every day, Chava loses himself in the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your tongue moving over his, the way his heart melts as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

With El Fantasma constantly at his back and the sudden death of your abuela, he refuses to let a day pass by that you don’t feel incredibly, radically loved by him.

Before the passing of La Dama Roja, Chava was very, very sure that he’d never see you again. It’d been much too long since the last time, but his feelings seemed to only grow stronger each day. So when you came back, he vowed to give you as many kisses as you wished.

But there’s a sinking feeling he gets in his gut. It burns more and more each moment he settles on the thought.

Maybe one day, you’ll see something better. A man who’s not being chased by a Colombian gang. A man who can provide for you better than he can.

Chava always kisses you with everything he has, pouring every ounce of love into it, so if you were to ever leave, he’d know he’d given you his all.

Would he know the bittersweet pain of your last kiss? Or would he be ignorant to whatever demise would ultimately befall your relationship?

Maybe El Fantasma will finally catch up with him.

But even though he may have his fears, there’s something special about the way you look at him. It’s a glimmer somewhere deep in your eyes, sparkling back at him. It’s like looking deep into the night sky, but if he looks past the stars, he sees himself.

It’s shocking at first – he’s literally gotten lost in your eyes. But there’s really something quite shocking about the moment he sees himself. It crashes over him like a wave, and suddenly he’s flooded with emotion.

And he pulls you close to him, unwilling to let you go anytime soon.

Y = Yes (When, how, where do they propose?)

Chava’s known all along where it was going to happen.

It was just a normal day for you, the sun came up and came back down. You’d spent time with everyone on the plantation. It seemed like everyone needed or wanted to see you, passing you from one person to the next.

Las Tres Hermanas pulled you into about an hour of sorting, saying you should close your eyes and do your best to help them. It turned out to be a trainwreck. You couldn’t seem to tell what was good and what wasn’t, but they managed to sort everything out. What took you an hour took them not even five minutes.

And then Aurora asked that you make some desserts with her. You ended up spending a few hours chatting and baking and singing along with the wind. It wasn’t bad, but by the end of it, the sun was just about to fall over the horizon for the day.

But just as you were about to put on your coat, Lucia barges into the kitchen, demanding that you help her with her math homework. It’d really been a while since you saw trigonometry, but you decided to stick around and see if you could be of any assistance anyways. By the end, it was more like Lucia taught you than you helping her. And the sun had officially retired, letting the moon take its place in the sky.

“Don’t go yet!” Lucia shouted, grabbing onto your sleeve as you began to stand up from the table. Sleep started to drag at you, and it all felt a little strange, but when you looked into her face, you saw something that made you stay.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, concern flickering over you.

Lucia’s eyes flash with anxiety as her fingers tighten around your wrist. “I’m having… boy problems.”

It all makes sense now.

You return to your seat, letting Lucia talk as long as she needs. It’s a story that seems to wind without end, and kind of seems like something that would happen in Gilmore Girls, but you try to give the best advice you can.

“I think Dean seems like a really nice boy, and he seems to really care about you. Maybe you should tell him you love him too?”

And after another couple of hours of stories, you can see Aurora come out from her bedroom. It almost looks like she gives the smallest, most imperceptible nod. But the moment she does, all of Lucia’s problems seem to melt away.

“You know what, I think I will tell him!” She says, before promptly pushing herself from the table and running to her room.

As your mind swirls with everything she’s just unloaded onto you, the front door clicks open, and you see Chava shrugging off his jacket.

Immediately, you go up to throw yourself into his arms, and he laughs as you bury your face into his chest. It’s a hearty laugh, strong and deep as he tightens his arms around you.

After a few moments lost in the sound of his heartbeat, you look up into his eyes, softening at the sight of you in his arms, and he presses his lips to yours. The world melts away, replaced with the sweetest feeling of his kiss.

Pulling away, he presses his forehead against yours, smiling. “Mi alma, come with me. I have something to show you.”

You take his hand as he wraps his jacket around you, leading you out the door.

You follow him until he leads you to a very familiar pond. It’s lit gently with fireflies in jars, and flowers thrown along the ground. The yellow light falls from the little bugs, mixing with the white of the moon. The wind whistles around you as you remember the time you were last here.

The tadpole wedding.

Your first kiss.

Chava immediately takes your hand in his, and as you look up at him, you see him framed completely by twinkling stars. He smiles as you fall into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

“This is familiar, yes?”

“Very, very familiar, Chava.”

“Good.”

“Why did you do this?”

When you look up into his hazel eyes again, they’re shining. You’re completely stunned at the sight of him, a warm hand gently resting against his heart.

It beats rapidly underneath the tips of your fingers.

“I love you, cariño. I have known this all my life. This was the place I fell in love with you. You kissed me after I ruined our whole tadpole wedding. I tripped because I was lost in thought. I just kept thinking about what our wedding would be like, when we were all grown.

But then you left. And I tried to move on as best I could. It was hard. I knew I could never love anyone else as much as I loved you, even if we were just kids.”

“Chava, I-“

“Listen, estrellita,” He chuckles, “And then I thought I’d never see you again. Abuela was certain you would come back to Colombia. I’d never seen her so sure about anything. But the moment I laid eyes on you for the first time, after all these years, I was in love with you even more than ever before.

You give me so much life. Everything is so much better with you in it, I never want you to leave.

Mi cielito, mi media naranja, mi amor,”

Your heart skips a beat as your name falls from his lips.

“Be my past, my present, and my future.”

And he gets down on one knee.

“Chava-“

“You must stop interrupting me.” He laughs. “I’m almost done.”

His eyes brim with tears as he looks up at you, surrounded by white moonlight.

“Marry me.”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

After you get married, he’d probably ask if you wanted to get a dog. When he was young, his family had a German Shepherd to watch over the house, but he loved that dog more than he thought possible.

He calls him Santo, and they walk together throughout the plantation every day. From the moment that he gets up for work, Santo walks alongside Chava until they’re done with morning rounds, then takes a couple laps on his own.

Everyone loves Santo. You got him as a puppy, and raised him around the plantation, so everyone who’s worked there has gotten to know the little guy until he became not-so-little anymore. Aurora and Lucia are really fond of Santo. He’s family to both of them, and Lucia is always sneaking him little pieces of her dinner.

And after everything that’s happened since your abuela died, you feel safer having Santo around, sleeping at the foot of your bed. You know he would do anything to protect you, just like Chava would.

#chava cerilla #fictif chava #who killed la dama roja #heir to love and lies #fictif wkldr #i cannot believe the name has changed i don't know what to tag this anymore

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on the milestone Patricia!!!!! You deserve it, I’m so so happy for you!🥺🥺

May I request “I thought you were dead…” and “I waited and waited, but you never came back” for Oberyn, perhaps? Give me angst 😈😈😈

Hello, my love! You want angst? You get angst!

Oberyn x Fem!Reader ; warnings: mentions of death

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh left his lips as sweat trickled down his brow, and his chest, quickly absorbed by the thick fabric of his golden tunic. He raised the almost empty water bottle to his lips and downed the rest of it. He cursed himself for not coming more well prepared for making this trek in his damned heat.

But then he heard it, softly, and gently and from a slight distance, but he knew exactly what it was. Your laughter - it was forever ingrained in his mind, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He would never forget it. But why in the heavens you wanted to move to this forsaken place he would never know. It was one of the hottest stretches of Dorne, and almost completely secluded, save for the nearby small villages.

He shuffled closer and closer, his feet slipping into the hot sand and slowing down his trek. But Oberyn was many things, including a stubborn man, and he kept pushing. Pushing and pushing through as his sole goal was you. Surely you’d be happy to see him after all this time, right? He was your lover and you were his - you’d had him heart and soul, easily wrapped around your finger.

But just before your modest home came into view, he heard a new sound, a different one. One that made him stop dead in his tracks.

“Mama!” it was a small voice, a soft one. Oberyn swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped forward, looking to the yard of your home. Despite being in the middle of the desert, your yard was filled with trees and plants and bushes, all clearly loved and taken care of. His heart caught in his throat as he spotted the small boy, eagerly running back to the wide open door, “Mama! Can I go to the river with my friends?”

“Of course, my sweet one,” you stepped into view, wiping your hands on a rag as the boy wrapped his arms around your waist, “be careful, okay? I don’t want anything going wrong.”

“I’m always careful,” he beamed before running off, his black curls bouncing with each stride. You waved after him, the smile on your features was as blinding and lovely as the day he had met you. You hadn’t seemed to age a day, despite the years that had passed.

Oberyn watched as the small figure disappeared into the distance, his mind spinning wildly with a hundred million thoughts at once. Was he...surely he couldn’t be...but….that little boy had been the spitting image of him.

He never knew...he hadn’t known you’d been with child. He didn’t...know.

Almost as if you sensed some kind of disturbance, you looked up, shielding your eyes from the golden sun as you looked around. After a few moments, you spotted his figure in the distance, a concerned look on your face at the weary man in front of you.

“Hello!” you called out to him, walking to the edge of the gate that surrounded your home. He sucked in a nervous breath as you came closer, waiting for the second you discovered who he was. But as he took a few steps closer, you seemed just as confused, “are you alright? Do you need water - a rest?”

Oberyn’s body was humming with energy as he made his way over to you, barely able to comprehend that you were there - living proof and in the flesh. Surely you would recognize him any second...you had to. Right? Right?

Step by precious step he came closer until he was a few feet in front of you. You studied the man silently, your curiosity piqued as you realized that somehow he looked oddly familiar. His chest tightened and felt constricted as he eagerly anticipated your reaction. But you just titled your head to the side and regarded him curiously.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, "do you want to come inside and cool down?"

You motioned for him to follow, wondering momentarily if he was mute or if he was in some sort of shock. Oberyn was rooted in his spot, unable to move. Before you could turn around to see if he was following, you heard him speak. You heard your name - whispered softly, reverently.

"Sunshine…" no. No, no, no. It couldn't be, surely you were mistaken. There was only one person in the entire world that had ever called you that.

And he was dead. Long dead - you watched him die.

Slowly turning around, you breathed in deeply, your chest rising and falling anxiously as you met the man's eyes. There was a nervous expression on his face as you walked back over to him.

"What did you say?" your voice was already shaking, trembling and cracking with every word, "what did you call me?"

"Sunshine," he whispered it softly as you shook your head, eyes already burning and stinging with tears.

"No," you insisted, "you...you aren't...why would you call me that? You don't know me…"

"I do," he whispered as the tears spilled over and ran down your cheeks. He extended his hand, moving to wipe away your tears, but you flinched out of his touch, bringing an ache to his chest, "sweet girl, you know me."

"Please," you whispered softly, "I don't know you… I-I-I don't know you."

"But you do. You know my name - you know me…"

"I don't."

"Sunshine-"

"No!" you snapped harshly as you glared at him, "there was only one man that ever called me that - the only one that was ever allowed to. Do not think yourself worthy of doing such a thing!"

"What was his name?" he asked, his brown eyes softening as you refused to speak.

"Don't you dare!"

"Say it," he insisted, "what was his name?"

"Please don't do this…"

"Say my name, Sunshine," he whispered, ready to throw himself at your feet and to beg you to say it, for you absolve his sins - anything, "please…"

"Don't…"

"You know me...gods, I wish I could hear you say it one more time…"

"I-I-I thought you were dead, Oberyn," you broke and said it. It was soft, a familiar sound that felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It was a sound you hadn't heard in years, and it brought forth every emotion you'd worked to suppress and forget and keep at bay, "I waited and waited and you never came back. I waited so long - they said you were gone…"

“They thought I was,” he admitted as his face fell at the sight of yours; nothing but grief and sorrow was etched in your features. He wished he could take you and wrap you up in his arms, but how you had pulled away from him, he didn’t want to upset you further - even if it broke his heart, “after everything...they left me at first, left me to rot, but something happened and I woke up again. It was like a miracle; I don’t know what happened or why….but I survived.”

“It’s been six years, Oberyn,” you sniffled as you studied the man in front of you. He was so different from the man you had last seen; he was older, more weary looking, with stray grey hairs infusing into his beard and the curls he had left grow out. Instead of the pristine visage you had known, there were scars on the side of his face, but they didn’t deter from his beauty. If anything else, they all told a story - a story of his death and rebirth.

And yet, he was still the same as he always had been. Soft eyes, honeyed and golden only for you, with the sweetest smile. Oberyn Martell - your Oberyn.

"I know," he agreed gently, "and it took me a long time to get better. I was bedridden and barely able to function for over a year."

"And then…?" you studied him as you tried not to completely have a breakdown at the thought of him helpless and broken.

"I looked for you," he promised answering your unspoken question, "as soon as I got better and was able to. I looked everyday, far and wide, I had people look for you, but none could find you. It was like you had disappeared. Vanished."

"I had to leave," you whispered softly as the tears you had been holding back rolled down your cheeks. There was no point in trying to hold them back - after all this time, the man you had once loved was back. It was like seeing a ghost after all this time. He swallowed thickly before nodding slightly, “I couldn’t stay - not in King’s Landing, not in Sunspear, not around everyone. I couldn’t go back and face everyone, in a place where everything would remind me of you. It was too much, Oberyn. My world ended that day, with you in a pile of blood and ruin. I couldn’t...I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he whispered as he reached up again, slowly and more hesitant, testing to see how far you would let him go. This time, you shy away from his touch, letting him gently touch your cheek and wipe away the tears that didn’t seem to stop, “you did what you had to. Many people would have done the same - I’m not sure I would have done anything differently.”

“There’s...I...I didn’t just leave to protect myself,” you confessed, the words so soft and gentle they were barely audible, but Oberyn heard you loud and clear. You clasped your hands nervously, thinking back to the day you had found out. It was after Oberyn had died - or so you thought. He never knew, and suddenly it felt like a dirty secret. You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Oberyn...I...we...I was with child.”

The Prince found himself unable to speak, the tears and emotion getting stuck in his throat as he nodded; his own eyes grew bleary with tears that threatened to spill over as he brushed a finger along your cheek. A heavy weight felt like it was on your shoulders, but if you knew - if you had any clue he was still alive - you would have found him...you would have told him. He looked at you with soft eyes before pulling you into a hug, unable to stop himself. You hugged him right back, unable to stop yourself, clutching at him as though he was the only thing in the world. Even after all this time, it felt the same as ever, like you had never strayed from his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed a few kisses to the side of your head, “a son?”

“A son,” you reassured him softly, solidifying that the little one he had seen running around earlier had to be his son. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you pulled back and studied his face, cradling it gently in your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you finally had a son, Oberyn. I...I named him Elio. Elio Nymeros Oberyn.”

It felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs as he listened to you; this was everything he could have ever dreamed of, and yet...he hadn’t gotten to experience a single moment of it. Life was cruel that way; it gave and then it took and took and took. Oberyn’s eyes searched yours as he whispered, “for Elia? For me?”

“Of course,” you smiled softly. But before you could say anything yes, some excited shouts and laughter from the distance. It was then that reality set in and you took a step back from Oberyn, as if you suddenly remembered that this, the moment the two of you had just shared, wasn’t real life. No - it felt more like a fever dream.

“Mama!” the little boy was a blur as he excitedly sprinted towards you. Oberyn’s heart was beating wildly as he tried to get a good look at the young boy, your son - his son. He was too preoccupied with the new arrival to notice the other approaching figure, “I was going to go to the river but then I got distracted…”

You ran a hand affectionately through his dark curls, almost speechless at how much he took after Oberyn. Especially now, seeing them side by side, there was no doubt that he was Oberyn’s son. The young boy shied into your skirts as he tugged your arm around him and regarded the Prince in confusion.

“It’s okay, my little love,” you promised him as he made a small sound, “this is...umm..Nymeros.”

Oberyn had to physically stop from sweeping the young boy in a bone crushing hug. He slowly bent down so he was on Elio’s level and held his hand to him, “hi Elio. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” he said shyly, offering up a small smile, and taking Oberyn’s hand, “do you know my Mama and Papa?”

“I…” Oberyn passed for a moment before looking back at you. Surely...surely he hadn’t heard correctly…

“Oberyn, I-”

“Hello, my loves,” the arrival of another newcomer snapped you both of your daze as you turned to find your husband making his way over to the three of you. Elio’s eyes lit up as he darted away from you and towards the man. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him picking up the young boy and setting him atop his shoulders. He came over to you and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, as you beamed at him; even Oberyn couldn’t deny the glow on your features. He paused for a moment before kissing your lips gently, “hello, my sweetest.”

“Hello to you, dearest husband,” you gave him a soft smile before turning your attention back to Oberyn. The expression on his face was devastating; it was heartbreak personified. Your face pulled into a frown as you sighed lightly, “Jeron, this is...this is…”

“Nymeros,” Oberyn caught your eye, a sad little expression on his face as he held out his hand to your husband, “we...used to know each other, a long time ago, it was almost like another lifetime ago. I was...passing through and thought I recognized her and just wanted to say hello.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeron’s smile was easy as he shook Oberyn’s hand. It was easy to see why you had ended up with a man like him; he had a warm, gentle aura about him, and even Oberyn couldn’t deny his charm. He was a handsome man, tall and thin, with a shock of dark hair and almost black eyes and the most golden skin, with a smile equally as dazzling, “it’s been hot out, you must come in and cool down.”

“Oh no,” Oberyn shook his head, feeling like his heart was breaking a little more with each word, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Please, we insist,” Jeron said as you looked torn, “join us for dinner! Any friend is family and welcome in our home.”

“Perhaps some other time,” Oberyn’s voice almost cracked as he looked between the two of you, finding the young boy already starting to doze off, no doubt ready for a nap, “I actually must get going. I think I’ve already stayed too long.”

“Well, you’re always welcome in our home,” Jeron promised him. He turned to you, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “I’m going to put the little one down for a nap.”

“Of course,” you said softly as he disappeared inside. Oberyn watched you closely for a few moments before a few tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart, but...you didn’t know. You never knew that he was alive or you would have been by his side the entire time.

“Oberyn-”

“Do you love him?” he asked softly as you felt your own tears well up again. You swallowed thickly before nodding slowly - and it was true. Jeron was a good man that you loved more than life itself, just as you once had Oberyn, “and our son. Is he good to our son?”

“He’s an amazing father,” you promised, “he loves Elio so much...he knows he is not his, but it has never stopped him loving him as his own, and Elio doesn’t know any different. He’s raised him since he was a babe.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you dabbed at your eyes, “I am very happy. It took a long time to get there, but I am happy with this life. It is quiet and humble, but I love every day of it.”

“Okay,” Oberyn gave you a teary eyed, tight lipped smile, “that’s all I needed to know. That’s all I ever wanted, Sunshine.”

“Oberyn,” he took a step back and offered you one last nod. You knew what this meant - you knew what he was thinking. You shook your head as your eyes widened, “no, please, Oberyn-”

“Goodbye, Sunshine,” he whispered gently, “I love you always.”

“Please don’t...don’t just go...don’t just leave.”

“My place isn’t here,” he insisted, “but you’re happy, and...our son is happy and healthy. That’s all that matters.”

“No, no, no, please,” you knew it was useless; his mind was made up.

“I must,” he insisted softly, “you will always have my heart. May we meet again in another life, my sweet girl.”

“Oberyn…” it was a soft broken whisper as he slowly turned to walk away. He wanted to look back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he let his tears flow freely as he left, each step breaking his heart bit by bit. It felt like you were losing him all over again, “Oberyn.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

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I just saw a gif that made me super soft and want dad!ethan. 😭 so could I request a dad!ethan with his newborn?

catching ethan singing your babies to sleep and then you tell him about it and he gets all shy and stuff? im soft for some ethan rn 😔

Ethan had always wished he was able to sing. He thought maybe he’d gotten the talent his dad had, hoped he’d ‘grow into it’ as he got older and his voice got deeper and less squeaky. When he was young, it was because he wanted to be in a band, find a way that somehow he and grayson could sing and manage all the instruments all at once.

He still wished he could sing now, at 23, but it was for an entirely different reason. Now, it was because Remi was upset, and nothing he was doing seemed to calm her. He tried to sympathize - the world must be very scary when you’d only been in it for a mere five weeks. But he’d changed her, fed her, given her a pacifier that she’d now spat back out.

The last thing he wanted was for his babies wails to wake you up - you’d finally been able to get your milk supply up enough to store a couple extra bottles, which meant he could finally take on at least one of the night feeds, give you some much needed rest.

“Shhh, baby girl it’s okay, you’re okay, daddy’s right here. I’m right here,” he tried again, bouncing ever so slightly as he paced around her nursery. She squalled anyways, so loud that it was just another reminder that he and grayson definitely had the same genetics.

“Sweetheart you’re gonna wake up momma, shhh, shhh it’s okay,” he pleaded, racking his brain for anything he could think of to soothe her.

He opted for last resort, clearing his throat just barely and tucking her up against his neck, feeling her tears wet against his neck.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray.”

To his amazement, her screams turned to whimpers in his ear and he kept going, spurred on by the fact that it was working.

“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

With each word she got quieter, settling against him, finally calming down. He sang it over and over until he lost count and he could feel her breathing even out against him.

He sang it through twice more for good measure, quieting down to a whisper as he laid her down in her crib, sighing a bit in relief when she stayed lulled and he was able to escape back to you and the bed.

His sheets were cold as if they’d forgotten him while he was gone, and he cuddled up to you, seeking out warmth.

Little did he know you had awoken to the cries, trusting him to lull her back down. But that hadn’t been the only thing you’d heard. You reached behind you, hand finding his hair, guiding him closer to you as he spooned up against your back, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Sorry we woke you up,” he murmured out the apology, lips moving against your shoulder.

“Your lullaby almost got me back to sleep too you know,” you mused, rolling over so you could be closer to him. Even in the dark you knew he was blushing, even before he ducked his head down to your chest.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Baby monitors hear everything,” you reminded him. “And it was the sweetest thing I’ve heard...ever.”

“I can’t sing.”

“Your daughter would disagree. She loved it, and she loves you. You’re such a good dad to her.”

He sat up a bit then so he could look at you - his eyes met yours for a moment in the silence. There were unspoken words there in the gaze, appreciation and love and pride.

“Who knew you were such a sap at 2:30 in the morning,” were the words he chose to say, which said everything in them and more. “Get some sleep, next time she wakes up it’ll be for your nipples.”

#im SOFT #BYE #ethan blurb #blurb #babiedolan #ask #e:blurb

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jeonjcngkook · 4 years ago

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Mutual appreciation day!Tell me something about your mutuals ❤️

*deeeeep breath*

i think i missed the deadline bc of work to answer this but i feel like i can answer this and it still be meaningful.

there isnt just one thing i can tell u about my mutuals. all of them are absolutely beayutfiul inside n out n let me tell u i would be lost w/o them???? i really would be. they are all people i class as friends for life. I care for them all individually, i wish them all, all the happiness the world provides - they are all special in their own ways n that is what makes them even more beautiful in my eyes.

@seokjinssi - tenri is my hard stan quEeN , she is as chaotic as me n wow never fails to make me laugh. i really do get so excited knowing that i get to wake up n talk to my tenri about £”$%&%^%&%

@flowerkth - natalie is my little ray of sunshine, shining so bright every single day!! keeping me n my taekook soul fed n alive. nat really is the prettiest flower n i would say a best friend for life i have made out of her

@jooniemoon08 - faithy here has my heart end of. from her beauty, to her brains!! she is simply the most effortlessly gorgeous girl n wow i fall in love w her every single day. faithy truly is something special

@hobieshopie - niki is such a talent!! she proves just how hard work can really take u places. her creativity n sheer outlook on life is beautiful n i wouldnt ask niki to be anything other than what she is

@pathtospring - hopie is so special to me in ways that i cant even put into words. hopie is always n i mean always there for u through anything n everything. hopie will get u the best advice n care for u through anything. u have the biggest heart, i never want u to change

@vante-love - asjhdfksjkh nesssss shit man i cant even put u into words, u are just outstanding. u make me laugh SO much, i love that we can daddy joon thirst, the way u react makes me wanna curl into a pile of tears w giggling but then like a pool of my own tears bc fuck ur duality hits me HARD n i absolute love it

@kimteahyung - milli is the kindest soul, so sweet n caring n always putting people before herself. we had such a beautfiul wedding n im blessed to call her my wife. like tenri, always there for a thirst moment which ugh yes i could not be more thankful for!!

@exoticarmyofcrowns - i rememeber before i became friends w asha that i always wanted to be friends w her bc of the kindness that she showed to some other moots. when i became friends w asha, i was absolutely elated bc she really is a beautiful person inside n out. i would be lost without her in my life

@taechnological - sae wow , when i say someone cracks me up, i mean sae CRACKS me up!!! every single day, it has now become a need to check her account.... n saes tags n tae content? ugh im honoured

@extrataedinary vilma warms my heart like a hug in a winter evening!! her tae content makes my heart flutter ; she is so cute n heartwarming i always look forward to seeing her n taking to her day in n day out

@taemaknae - nicole is the sunshine. always so upbeat, happy n shining - reminding me of a beautiful summer day

@utopiajeon , @sweetpeajeon , @gukniverse - fabi, jess n lenlen ; normally i would separate but i feel like they all bring me the most happiest w their jungkook content. whenever new content comes out they r always the first i think of to share it bc they have the biggest hearts for jungkook as much as i do and i always feel like their love for him is endless , which i adore but also for the people they care for, its so utterly special n i wouldnt change a single hair on their either of their heads

@heavyinmyarms - paula another gorgeous n strong lady right here, she’s in my heart n i love her n how soft she is!! lots of kithes

@goldenkths - jessi is just the sweetest soul ever. i love talking with her n just screaming over the boys w her. she never fails to make me smile n i adore her happy things bc wow u deserve all the love n happiness the world has to offer

@moonlytae - paavan has shown resilience n determination when it comes to things n i absolute adore that. not only is she tbgc lil babie , we wrap her up in blankets n keep her safe from the world, we all love her endlessly

i’ll list some of my other moots too!! pls know that u all play such a massive part in my experience here - u are all best friends to me, each n every one of u. thank u for making me laugh n smile. thank u for all the positivity n love u all bring onto my dash n blog everyday!! u are all the sunshine in my life n i always look forward to seeing u all every single day. u all deserve so much luv, enjoyment, hugs, kisses, positivity n kindness individually. old n new, i couldnt ask for a more beautiful group of angels💐💟

@kooksbliss @kimchitae @sweetnightsjimin @cherryjk @lomlkook @aureumjeon @gukniverse @gukamour @roseboyjjk @kimsouthjoon @sweetpeajeon @flowerseok @kooksmos @sugasugakookies @memeofthesoul @softmelon@heavyinmyarms @penicillinjimin @petiteuphoria @kthmad @jje0n @bitoftaewithsugaandkookie @louvejoon @kookscrescent @moonlattae

#mutuals #jords asks💫#i love u all endlessly #id tag more ppl but it's 224am n i cant think straight

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dreamiesdotcom · 5 years ago

Text

[2:03] Long drives with Mark from a tiring day always feels like a reward, but not at this moment with the threat of rain and the lingering memory of his ex on your mind

"You didn't tell me she's that lovely…", you smile at the window, watching the dark looking clouds clump together to swallow up the remaining sunlight, "Had I known she would be that gorgeous, I would have at least put effort on my looks even just for today."

The cold breeze from the open window meets your face and you can't help but close your eyes. Mark keeps his eyes straight ahead, but his hands intertwines with yours tightly to at least try to assure you that 'it's okay, you're okay, I love you'. You nibble on your lips.

Today, you met someone who plays an important role in Mark's life. You made it through the day without feeling a bit of jealousy, even made sure to leave some space for her on tables and not stick to Mark throughout the whole thing so they could catch up without you sticking to him like an octopus. You spent most of the day with mostly your best friend Haechan, Johnny and Yukhei, but you're glad that Mark is catching up with a friend. Even if she wasn't just a friend before, it's clear to you that she is now.

She looked nice. Very pretty, with her long legs that complemented the short, flowy dress and the pumps she's wearing, compared to your short ones that you prefer to cover with jeans and a much more comfortable button-up. She wears her make-up nicely, her eye makeup a perfect symmetry and her long hair. She smells of flowers, her lips look perfectly hydrated unlike your chapped ones — how many times did Mark kiss her? — and her eyes shines like stars. Her aura screamed confident and sexy and fierce, contrary to your shy and gentle one. When they stand together, they look like a real matured couple — unlike you, who always looked like you're Mark's little sister when you two go out. You chuckle at your own ridiculous thoughts, the cold breeze freezing your lips a little. You sound jealous right now, but really, you're not. Maybe you're just insecure of yourself, but can anyone blame you? She looked just like his sweetest dream, she is totally Mark's ideal girl and the worst is that she is completely, utterly different from you — only one question is on your mind, "Why did you settle for me when you already had the best?"

The car comes to halt, and you snap back to reality and see the empty road. You feel his gaze burning on you, and you can't help but close your eyes and think of it all as just a dream. Maybe you can play it off as sleep talking, yes, maybe you could. At this moment, you don't want a confrontation, not when you're feeling this vulnerable, hell, you don't even want to look at him right now. Maybe you should've told your boyfriend that you're gonna hang out with Hyuck, catch up with your best friend, maybe cuddle and just sleep. You feel drained — maybe you did feel a little jealousy. And maybe it's what's draining you right now.

Contrary to what you expect to see when you open your eyes, you are met with his gentle gaze, and his once tight clasp on your hand is now firm but soft, as if you're a fragile little glass figure that needs to be handled with care — and really, that's how you feel right now — vulnerable, and nearing destruction.

Mark pushes the seat so it leans further back, and he leads you to the driver's seat to a straddling position. He fixes your hair, delicate finger tips scraping against your cheeks and he wipes a stray tear that you never even knew fell, "What do you mean? You're the best for me."

"But I am not," you shake your head, "Before we met… when I was just Hyuck's best friend and nothing else… he always rambles about you and your ideal girls. Long hair, tall, beautiful — just overall perfect… that's her," you take a deep breath, "and that's not me."

The sound of raindrops fill the place, and Mark presses a button to close the windows. He just stares at you intently, his eyes gloomy and full of regret, "Today must have overwhelmed you, Y/N. I'm sorry, I should've took things slower."

You swallow as he leads your head to nuzzle on his neck, and despite the unsettling feeling of the two things you hate — jealousy and rain — a sigh of satisfaction leaves your lips before they turn to a sad smile, he's walking around the topic, why? Whether it was the haze at this sad moment or the sad nostalgia this weather brings, you feel gloomier than the skies.

It was rainy when your parents separated, it was rainy when the dog you grew up with passed away, it was rainy when your Grandma looked at you in disdain at the glaring 89 of your Math test that should have been 100, and it was also rainy when you fell on your knees, tears on your face, screaming at how the world is so unfair — it was rainy when you decided to give it all up, only to stumble onto a pure ray of sunshine drenched in cold rain water. The only good thing the rain brought you was Lee Donghyuck, and he isn't even here to comfort you. Instead, you're looking at your boyfriend, in a confrontation between you and him and your jealousy that you don't even want to be in, and all your mind does is ask you, 'Is your first heart break going to be under the rain too?'

You hate rain. Maybe it was the memories, maybe it was the heavy atmosphere, maybe because everyone seemed to love it and you can't understand why — but at the moment, it was the silence. It hurts more than anything, you believe. Silence hurts so much, especially if in that silence you wished that person held you close and whispered all the things you want to hear in your ear.

"Do you ever miss her, Mark?", you feel sorry that you're doing this to him but you really can't stand it, the thought of trapping Mark in a relationship that he no longer wants, "D-do you wish you never left her?"

"No," is the sharp reply that escapes his mouth, "Yes, I missed her, but no, leaving her was the best thing I ever did besides joining NCT because it's one of the reasons that lead me to you," You push yourself up to meet his gaze, his expression screaming of confusion, or heart break — maybe both, "There's a reason I am dating you, Y/N. I wish I never had to hear these words from you, because you mean the world to me and hearing you compare yourself to someone else hurts me more than you could imagine — but I am sure it hurts you more. Have I done such a poor job at loving you that even through three years, you still feel like you're not good enough?"

Your head is already shaking even before he completed his sentence, a panicked no comes out of your mouth and you just don't know what to do so you place a finger on top of his lips to stop him from speaking, "No," you say in a broken voice, "You were good to me. You are good to me. But she… she's everything you would want — it's as if God customized her for you — and she's completely the opposite of me."

"Would it make you feel better if I tell you that I am with you for that exact reason, Y/N? Because that's the truth, and I hope it does", he says, cupping your face, "She knew my favorite food the first date. She guessed my favorite number the first try. She perfectly fit in all my ideals. She got everything correct, and at that moment, I believed we were soulmates."

Mark has always been the one more experienced between the two of you as he had more relationships before you — he is your first love, and it doesn't even matter if you aren't his. It's just a number, but when it comes to relationships and all the other things, he's more experienced than you and that makes you feel a little worried. Even if you don't want to admit it, you lost several nights of sleep thinking about this — how Mark might've been feeling like he's babysitting a child throughout this relationship, and how much of a newbie you act despite you dating for three years.

He laughs, still cupping your cheeks and your heart breaks again at the reminiscing look in his eyes. What have you put yourself into? How many times will you break your heart tonight? The moment over powers your hate for the rain, you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the sad, loud and terrifying heavy raindrops because at this moment, you feel as though nothing is scarier than Mark choosing her over you. It is too possible. Whether it was the truth or just your insecurities whispering at you, you didn't care — it feels too right, it feels too possible.

"But you… I forgot my own favorite food when you looked so happy seeing yours and from then on I called it my favorite too. I was so full of you that my favorite number is the date of the day I first saw you," he chuckles in disbelief, "You barged into my life like you owned me, crushed all the ideals I set and changed everything I want to you. You made me rethink my reasons of declaring her my soulmate but you didn't have to replace her because you made me realize I never, never really gave her my heart to anyone like I gave mine to you, Y/N. You had me even before I met you, as if I knew that you'll come along, and saved every part of me for you," he strokes the side of your face gently, drying you of your tears, "You made my parents cry the night I brought you home, while you were fast asleep up my room, and they told me, 'Mark, you have such a lovely girl', made me promise to keep you forever and treat you right. Have I failed to do that, Y/N? Was I that lacking of love?"

You shut your eyes, no, you want to say, but you can't. It's like your paralyzed by his gaze and touch, his words making your heart flutter and shatter at the same time, "Because I can try again, be better, Y/N. I can be better. Until you don't even think about other people's names, until you remember how I love you the same way you can't forget your name."

"No, you're perfect, Mark," and millions worth or praises as well, but you don't want to say that. Not now, you'll save them for the next million years you'll spend loving him, "You're perfect and I love you. I won't trade this for anything else. I'm sorry for letting my insecurities get the best of me and I'm sorry for making you feel like your lacking, Mark, I'm—"

Your words get cut as your lips meet in a bittersweet kiss, the first kiss of today, one after a fight that could've torn you apart — this one tasted like honey, this felt like coming home, back at his arms. It's soft and insistent, warm and giddy and child-like in a way that is free. It felt like high school, it felt carefree, it felt so right that it's almost wrong. You smile at how similar it is to that one day in Vancouver, that one morning in Santorini, that night in Paris and this.

"I love you." He says with a peaceful smile as he pecks your lips on more time before he buries his face on your neck, "I love you so fucking much, Y/N, like my heart is so full of you and it's about to explode. I love you."

"Even if I'm a little bit insecure and a whole lot sensitive?", you ask him, basking in his warmth and you feel his lips curl against your neck as he says, "Yes, even if you're a little bit insecure, and a whole lot sensitive, love…"

You stay like that for a while, and the rain calms down as if it's finally sated. Several minutes were spent, lying like that, listening to each other's heartbeats before he decides that it's time to go home, the bright 2:36 am glares at the two of you alongside the 8 a.m schedules the two of you have. So, he starts up the car once he made sure you're wearing your seatbelt, and you have a sudden epiphany that his face is a better sight — even better than the city lights passing like a blur outside the car window. You smile to yourself, it's still an hour drive waiting for the two of you.

Even until then, he doesn't let go of your hand, and that's enough to keep your heart content. Mark Lee is always enough to keep your heart full, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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