#he does have to simmer down eventually. even he can only be mad for so long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ryukatters · 3 years ago

Text

Fluff Alphabet (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

A/N: Requested by an anonymous user. Writer’s block is real and I’m glad I was able to get this one out. Have fun, fellow Levi simps.

Contents/warning: fluff, Modern AU with mentions of canon, mentions of death, something slightly suggestive

Word Count: 2.8k

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Levi enjoys simplicity and domesticity, so anything within that realm is fair game for you two. Cooking, cleaning, sharing a meal together, cuddling, and running errands are all up his alley.

Don’t worry, he’ll still take you out on nice dates. A ceramics class, dancing, concert, or whatever he finds interesting that he’ll think you’ll enjoy. He’ll also wine and dine you afterwards <3

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Levi is an extremely emotional person, Isayama said it himself (and now I’m saying it too!). So when he falls, he falls hard with no point of return. Levi is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

He adores every single bit of you— body, mind, and soul.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Will do his best to stay calm because it probably won’t help if he’s also visibly distressed

Will be very accommodating. He’ll get you everything you need— water, food, cuddles, words of affirmation. Really good on picking up on non-verbal cues so he’ll cater to you if you’re having trouble expressing what you want. He will dote on you for the remainder of the day even if you insist you’re okay.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

It may come as a surprise to many, but Levi is genuinely great with kids (think about how many 15 year olds he had to take care of LOL). A family is definitely in the picture for him, but only once you both are financially, mentally, and physically ready for one. He wants to raise children in the most optimal circumstances possible.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He’s fine with letting you take the reins and make the decisions, but he also makes sure to put in his two cents every once in a while. Being with Levi is easy. You don’t have the energy to make decisions? That’s fine, he’ll do it. He’ll make sure to choose something both of you will benefit from.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Levi’s more quiet than usual when you two fight. He doesn’t like going to bed angry, so he’ll start doing small things to get closer to you. He’ll help you cook dinner, do the laundry, or sit next to you on the couch while you’re watching a movie, wordlessly.

*quietly slides you cut up fruit in hopes of you forgiving him*

For bigger fights, he usually waits for it to simmer down before even attempting to talk. He doesn’t want things to blow out of proportion because you two are still mad at each other. He’d want to forgive you right away and vice versa because he can’t stand not spending time with you.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Levi knows he can be difficult to deal with. He has trouble with opening up to others because he doesn’t want to burden them with his baggage. He thinks it’s pointless (it’s not)

He is extremely grateful for you, especially since you’re so patient with him.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

I think Levi prefers to keep things about his childhood and past self to himself. He drops bits and pieces every now and then, and little by little you start to understand more about Levi’s motivations and why he acts the way he does.

Once you start dating him, you pick up on his little mannerisms. Even if he doesn’t say anything, his eyes tell you everything.

Eventually, he begins to trust both you and himself more with being more vulnerable. If there happens to be anything that’s weighing down on him, he’ll want to let you know. Granted, he might sit on it for a little bit, but Levi will come around eventually. Communication (and understanding) from both parties are going to become a very important foundation to this relationship.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Nearly everything comes naturally to Levi— be it academics, sports, cooking, games, whatever. Have him do it once, it’s like he’s been doing it for years. His innate talent in almost every single possible facet makes it seem as though he’s got everything down to a t.

When you came into his life and managed to build yourself a little home in his heart, he realized that loving someone and being able to be comfortable with affection did not come to him as easily. For once in his life, Levi Ackerman had to work for something. He had a goal. And that goal was to be the best partner he could be for you. It’s a work in progress, but Levi doesn’t mind. He’ll start over and over again if it means you getting the love and appreciation you deserve.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Trust is a revolving theme in this relationship. He has faith in you and knows you would never do anything to betray his trust, especially when other people are involved. However, that doesn’t stop him from casually slipping his arm around your waist and giving a pointed glare to someone who doesn’t seem to know how to take a hint.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Sweet, gentle.

Levi is a Respectful King™ and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by making a move on you without your consent (even though you’ve been dying for a crumb of mouth and tongue action since forEVER)

You literally had to grab him by the collar and beg him to kiss you

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It was definitely long overdue.

He wouldn’t confess unless he knew for sure you reciprocated.

Even when he was sure you liked him back, he still didn’t want to go through with it. I think it had to do with his deep rooted fear that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you needed (which totally wasn’t true, AT ALL). It probably took lots of convincing from Hange and Erwin.

You two were hanging out at his place, watching your favorite show and eating your favorite takeout, as per usual. Levi seemed unusually quiet that day. The conversation went a little bit like this:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hm?

“You okay? You seem...out of it.”

*Cue Levi’s internal monologue on whether this is an appropriate time to tell his very attractive friend that he’s madly in love with them*

“I’m fine,” he gritted out.

“Are you sure?” you asked worriedly, placing your palm to his forehead. “You’re not coming down with something, are you? You feel a bit warm.”

He turned away from you suddenly, catching you off guard as he mumbled something rather incoherent.

“What?”

More mumbling. The tips of his ears were red. Was he...was he blushing?

“Still didn’t catch that.”

“I said I think I’m in love with you, idiot.”

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I think Levi would totally be down to get married. Though a proposal has always been in the back of his mind, it took lots of nudging from his friends for him to finally make the move.

The proposal wouldn’t be overly intricate, though it would be extremely sweet. I can see a nice picnic with a view of the city. He would propose with a gorgeous ring that combines both of your personalities.

I think Levi is a real homebody. He makes that extremely evident at the beginning of your relationship. So I honestly don’t think that marriage would change your relationship drastically other than I don’t know, filing your taxes together or some shit LMAO

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Darling, honey, love, angel. Very classic, very Levi. He also likes saying your name, he thinks it’s beautiful and fits you perfectly.

As for him, he likes love, darling, babe (secretly) and just his name. There’s just something so personal, so magnetic, so utterly intimate about you saying it that just makes him want to listen to it forever. He also likes the way you moan his name while you two are f-

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He goes out of his way to make time for you. If you need him, he’ll drop whatever it is he’s doing and speed on over to you. If someone tries to make fun of Levi about how much he loves you, he’ll just shrug, as if to say “So what?” He only has a lifetime to love you, so why should he hide that fact? He’s not ashamed, and never will be.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

I’d like to think that Levi keeps the PDA to a minimum. He doesn’t like seeing couples making out right in front of his salad so he doubts other people want to see you two snogging each other in the middle of a Wendy’s, either. That can wait until you two are alone. He is, however, comfortable with wrapping his arm around your waist or holding your hand in public.

The two of you don’t need to say anything about your relationship. The way Levi’s eyes soften in adoration while looking at you is a dead give away. There’s just something about you that makes Levi (who’s normally so tense) relax a bit. People just know you two are together.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Really good with directions for some reason. He doesn’t even need to have the GPS on while he’s driving to a place neither of you have ever been. He’ll read over the directions on Google Maps before starting the car then you two are off. Even if there’s an unexpected detour, he still finds a way there. I don’t know how he does it.

Had to learn how to do this because A) he refuses to let Hange drive and B) Hange sucks at navigating and the two of them nearly ended up in a lake after Hange insisted that they knew a shortcut. Also consider C) Levi is just annoyingly good at everything and picks up on things fast

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I firmly believe that Levi is an acts of service kind of guy. He’ll pick you up your favorite food on the way home, change out the oil in your car so you don’t have to pay ridiculous prices at the dealership, or even build you some niche piece of furniture you’ve been eyeing on Pinterest for MONTHS.

It shows just how much he pays attention to you. Things that you don’t really think about, something mundane or say off-handedly, Levi remembers. And he’ll always make sure to show you that he retains every single piece of yourself that you’re willing to share. Almost as if you were a puzzle Levi was hellbent on completing.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He knows that you can do anything you set your mind to, which is one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place.

When times are tough, or you just can’t help but succumb to that little voice in your head, Levi will be there for you. You can let your guard down, it’s okay. He’ll be strong for the both of you.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Levi appreciates routine. In a world that’s so busy, disorganized, and just overall confusing, he’s always tried to maintain some semblance of control over his daily life. That was until you pranced into his life. You literally rocked his world and threw everything out of orbit. He still loves you even if you did give him whiplash <3

He’s okay with trying new things as long as he has you by his side.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He can read you pretty well, but he likes to be an annoying little shit and make you spell everything out for him. “Communication is the foundation of a strong relationship” my ass

And yes. Extremely empathetic. Have you met Levi? Manz was out here gripping a dying soldier’s hand to comfort him when we were introduced to him. Levi knows you like the back of his hand. He’ll always try to see things from your perspective before saying anything. This helps with giving advice and/or preventing an unnecessary argument.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’re pretty damn high up there. You became a constant in Levi’s life the second he realized just how much he cared about you. He’ll do as much as possible to make sure you two can keep a strong, healthy bond.

It’s hard for Levi to let people into his life, much less let them get so close to him. He actively tries to keep everyone at arm’s length. He has a tendency to build a wall around him as a defense mechanism because he’s afraid of losing people. So when he decides to let someone in, they’re immediately going to be held near and dear to Levi’s heart. These relationships are very important to Levi, and they’re probably where he finds the strength and courage to keep moving forward.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon

He always gets you a small gift on the day of the month y’all got together, so like a little monthsary sort of deal. Nothing too major, he doesn’t want to be like those couples that go all out every month. He feels like that defeats the purpose of anniversaries. It doesn’t occur to you why he buys you flowers or some little knick knack that you’ve been wanting on the same day of every month.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

You’re gonna have to take initiative most of the time. Not because he doesn’t like physical intimacy, but because he’s kind of shy and also does not want to make any moves without your consent. That being said, Levi’s best nights are the ones where he gets to fall asleep with you in his embrace and vice versa.

Further along in your relationship, he’ll just plop down next to you and pull you on top of him. When you try to complain, he’ll just tuck your head into his neck and mumble, “Shut up. I want to take a nap.”

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

When you go on a trip without him, Levi likes to keep himself busy. He’ll clean, work on some DIY project, hang out with Erwin and Hange, work out, whatever. The tiny voice in his head just doesn’t know how to shut up about you, whether you’ve eaten that day, what you’re up to, if you’re safe. He’ll be awaiting your random little texts throughout the day, and almost feels giddy when he sees your name pop up on FaceTime. Levi can pretend that he doesn’t miss you, scoff when you tease him about it, but he can’t hide the blush that threatens to rise up his face that confirms it.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Yes, absolutely. Levi is strong willed and fights for the things he believes in, and he believes in the bond that you two share. There are layers to this man, and he trusts you enough to let his guard down so you can pick him apart and build him back up again. And that is enough reason for him to keep fighting for the both of you.

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share on Tiktok or repost without my permission.

#currently eating watered down instant mash for my wisdom teeth <3 #anyways hope y'all enjoy #aot imagines #aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #snk x reader #snk fluff #aot fluff #kat’s writing

581 notes · View notes

venusiangguk · 3 years ago

Note

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

252 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

#WHAT DO WE THINK BESTIES!!!!!! alr this was the confrontation piece with all that build-up :D the pain #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine

531 notes · View notes

enamoured-x · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Release | Part 2

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: Things don’t go as planned when you attend Ez’s party.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 4.8k

Excerpt: “Your salvation and your destruction kneeled before you, ready to prove to you how deadly the mix of the two was. Your angel on his knees ready to sin.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: thank you for all the love on this mini series! With that being said there will be a part 3 and it will be the final part! Enjoy! (part 1 can be found here)

Part 2

One long fucking month. Since the day you left Angel at the clubhouse with his come leaking out of you, you had been a wreck. Honestly, you were proud of yourself for holding it together so well when you broke the news to him. Maybe because you knew eventually you’d break. You were a mess. Hating Angel for what he put you through, hating that he led you to walk out on him in the first place. He tried calling every day for the first two weeks and then it simmered down to a call every few days. None of which you answered. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to block his number just yet. You still cared for him, still wanted to be able for him to reach out if something was wrong as long as it didn’t pertain to your failed relationship. You didn’t want to talk about how stupid that logic was because you knew keeping his number was because a part of you still wanted it to work.

You played with the idea of maybe. But you couldn’t tell him that because you weren’t sure. You put yourself through all of his shit already and if he was going to do it all over again if you gave him a second chance you’d kill him. It would kill you. With that being said, you were going to let this play out. You knew you were supposed to get over him, knew you made a choice that day to end it with him. But a girl could dream that he’d make some grand gesture to win you back like in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie and Angel definitely wasn’t the romantic male protagonist.

“Angel’s a mess.” You glared at Ez for bringing him up. You ignored his comment and sipped your coffee. You and Ez still kept in close contact over the month, sharing funny videos and checking in, just the usual stuff. Today he invited you to hang out and catch up since you hadn’t seen him since that day and you had agreed, happy to go somewhere that wasn’t work or your home. Happy to see your friend again.

“How’s pops?” You asked, trying to get the topic off Angel. You weren’t here to talk about Angel, he made his bed and now he could lay in it. If you were open to the idea of giving him a second chance, and that was a big if, he would need to do a lot more than having Ez tell you how miserable he’s been. You had been a wreck long before you broke up with him, he deserved to know what it felt like.

Ez sighed and didn’t bring up Angel again, “he’s fine, he sends his best.” You nodded, making it a point to stop by soon and say hi, just because you and Angel broke up didn’t mean you couldn’t be friendly with his family still. They were practically your family.

Ez twiddled with his coffee cup and you sighed.

“Go ahead.” You told him, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. The outside seating offered you a breath of fresh air you desperately needed when talking about the one and only Angel Reyes.

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, “what?”

“You obviously either have an opinion on the breakup or you told Angel you were meeting me and he asked you to tell me something for him. Hell, maybe you only asked to hangout with me to deliver a message. Whatever it is, spill it, Reyes.” You knew Ez enough to know when something was on his mind or when he was holding back. This was one of those times. You weren’t exactly mad at him for it but after your grief died out, you were just confused about Angel. You knew you made the right choice at the time but it didn’t mean you still didn’t miss him. It didn’t mean you were over him.

Ez held his hands up, “I swear I just wanted to see you. No secret motive. If Angel wants to work things out with you, he can do it himself, I'm not his messenger.” You sighed. You knew he was telling the truth.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” He was still holding back. He may not be there for some ulterior motive but there was something.

“You know I’m getting patched in…” He trailed off and you nodded your head. You were excited for him when he told you the news a few weeks ago. Ez had put all his time and effort in the club and he was finally going to become an official member. He deserved it.

“The club is throwing me a party.” He stated and you shook your head.

“No.” He scoffed at your answer and sat up.

“Come on, you have to come. You don’t have to talk to Angel, just stay with me the whole time.” He begged. You groaned at the idea.

“Ez, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the best idea.” Showing up to the clubhouse just a month after you broke up with Angel and fucked him in the middle of it was probably not the greatest idea.

“Please. You’re my only friend outside of the club, I want you there.” Ez’s brown eyes pleaded with you. You were his only friend and as that friend you owed it to him to show your support, even if it meant having to see your ex again.

You bit your lip and Ez smiled, knowing he had you.

“Fine, but I’ll be glued to your side the whole time you’ll regret asking me to come.” You pointed at him and he laughed.

“This should be fun.”

You should’ve taken that as a warning.

You hated the fact that you were putting effort into what you were wearing to the party. Trying on basically all the clothes in your closet. You figured if you were going to see Angel you had better make it good. Eventually you settled on a simple red summer dress, flowy enough to be innocent but short enough to showcase your legs. You opted for some white sneakers with it, deciding that you were definitely not going to dress up to this thing, Angel or no Angel. Either way, this night wasn’t about him or you, it was Ez’s night and you were going to be there to support him.

Your nerves got the best of you when you pulled into the packed scrapyard, Chucky directed you where to park and you took a deep breath before stepping out. The party was already in full swing, people scattered outside and around the fire, already drinking and having a good time.

“Hey, you made it.” Ez said as he walked up to you as you made your way toward the clubhouse. You had yet to spot Angel and you were thankful for it.

“I told you I would come.” You pulled him into a hug and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and then led you inside.

“Thought you might back out last minute.” He shrugged. You were about to say something when you saw him. The man who had taken up space in your mind this past month. The man you left after reaching one last high with him. He was laughing at something Coco said, his smile not reaching his eyes. You could tell that what Ez told you had been true, that he was miserable. He looked good, just not all there. Both men were standing against the wall, what stirred jealousy in you was one of the club hang arounds to his left touching his arm. You swallowed hard, you forgot that before you and Angel got together, he was a hot commodity amongst Vicky’s girls. Now that he was off the market, you were sure the women were jumping at the chance to share his bed, they probably already had. Lead filled your stomach once again.

You were about to turn to Ez to take the beer bottle from him when Angel finally looked over and stopped in his tracks. Gone was the smile and in its place was shock. You stared back at him, into those dark brown eyes you loved so much. Seeing him stung more than you cared to admit but you held strong.

“You good?” Ez’s words snapped you out of your trance and you turned to him, finally taking the bottle from his hands.

“You didn’t tell him I was coming?” You asked him as he led you over to take a seat at the bar. He looked guilty.

“If I had he probably would’ve been by the gates waiting for you. Figured this was better.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hermosa, haven’t seen you in a while.” You turned around to face Bishop. A genuine smile lit up your face and you got up to hug him. He graciously accepted, giving you a tight squeeze before letting you go. Bishop was always so kind to you, always so supportive of yours and Angel’s relationship.

“Hey, Bish. How are you?”

“I’m doing good. How are you? Which Reyes brother are you really here for?” He teased you and Ez chuckled. Obviously the club knew about yours and Angel’s split but he still welcomed you with open arms despite it. You were thankful for it.

“Very funny, but I’m here for Ez.” He laughed and placed a kiss on your temple before excusing himself.

“Is he still looking over here?” You asked Ez, bringing the bottle up to your lips and taking a sip of the cold liquid. You welcomed the alcohol as it sat in your stomach.

“Yup and Vicky’s girl does not seem too happy about that.” You felt a sliver of satisfaction run through you. But Angel wasn’t yours, you made that clear. So you had absolutely no right to be jealous, you had no claim over him anymore. At least not in that way but with the way you felt his eyes on your body, you knew you still had some sort of pull over him. He had that same pull over you but tonight was not the night for that.

“Let’s get you drunk, Eziekiel. You deserve it.” You changed the subject. You weren’t going to sit here and talk about Angel who was a few feet from you during Ez’s party. No, you were going to celebrate the man of the hour. Your friend, arguably your best friend. Also arguably your only friend.

“Sounds good to me.”

Ez was a bit tipsy but not nowhere near drunk after many rounds of beers and a few shots. You on the other hand kept it to three beers and then opted for some water, not really one to drink all that much. That didn’t mean that you weren’t having fun though. Coco had eventually came over to talk to you during the night and you were glad none of the men held any animosity towards you. It felt nice to see them again and you could honestly say you were glad you came.

“Six o’clock, mamas.” Coco said and nodded behind you, you were turning around completely ready to see Angel. You were surprised he hadn’t tried to get your attention sooner seeing as how he still tried to contact you weekly. But it wasn’t Angel. The man who now stood in front of you was a stranger, albeit a very handsome stranger who was part of another charter by the patch on his vest. He was tall enough to tower over you, his dark eyes pulling you in. He ran his hand through his raven black hair and smiled at you, even with his facial hair you could still see prominent dimples.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m Jay. And you are?” He stuck his tattooed hand out for you to take and you took it into your own. Jay was a tall glass of water, honestly a wet dream. Just not yours. But he could be. At least for tonight. A rebound wasn’t a terrible idea but you guessed there had to have been some rule about finding a rebound at the party of your ex boyfriend's brother’s party while he stood just a few feet away. You still introduced yourself nonetheless. You were a bit too distracted to notice Coco and Ez had left you to your own devices.

“So, what brings you to this party?”

“I’m a friend of Ez’s.” You told him. You swore you could still feel Angel’s eyes burning through you, you had felt it since you locked eyes with him. Whether he was giving you your space or he really didn’t want anything to do with you tonight, you didn’t know. But judging by the same girl who was still trying to get his attention, you figured he wanted nothing to do with you tonight if it meant him getting laid.

“Hmm,” he looked you up and down and you shifted under his gaze. You were kidding yourself if you actually thought you’d go through with a rebound. Especially with a Mayan. And you were kidding yourself if you thought a rebound was going to help. As if it was going to magically make your feelings for Angel disappear. As if sleeping with a stranger was going to give you that release you needed again, no, only Angel could do that. You hated it.

“So, this party is dying down, I was thinking maybe you wanna get out of here?” That was extremely forward, all he knew about you was your name. But who were you kidding, guys like him didn’t care, hell, you’d be lucky if he even remembered your name. You were just about to turn him down when he trailed his hand up your thigh skimming just under your dress. Your eyes widened at the gesture and you shoved him off you and backed up.

“Woah, what the fuck.” You hissed quietly, not wanting to make a scene. He laughed.

“Oh, come on. You're not here for Ez, you’re here to get laid.” What the fuck. You were about to tell him off before a hand wrapped around your waist and a warm body pulled you into his side. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was but you looked up anyways. Angel. Your damn angel.

“You touching my girl, homie?” He asked him, ice in his tone. You were surprised the guy wasn’t on the floor already, Angel’s girlfriend or not, he didn’t like people touching you if you weren’t willing. Maybe he knew punching a guys lights out right now was no way to win you back and it was definitely not needed at Ez’s patched-in party.

“Nah, man. Sorry, I didn’t know she was yours.” You scoffed.

“I’m not anyones.” You weren’t going to cause a scene but you hated men like this, men who thought women were just objects. You felt bad for the girl he would somehow convince to go home with him.

“Get fucking lost or we’re gonna have a problem.” Angel told him, fingers tightening on your waist. Your skin ignited at his touch, at him being so close, at his cologne infiltrating your senses once again. It all felt like home. You hated it. The guy held his hands up as he walked away mumbling curses under his breath. Before you could say anything to Angel, he was whispering in your ear.

“We need to talk. Now.” He didn’t give you room to argue as he led you down the hall and into his dorm room, closing the door. You didn’t like this. You didn’t trust yourself to be alone in a room with Angel right now. Give it another month or two then maybe, but right now? When your breakup was still a month fresh? No. It was dangerous. Angel turned to face you and you crossed your arms looking anywhere but at him, not wanting to look into his eyes. Not wanting to lose yourself in him.

“What do you want to talk about?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“Us. You coming here dressed like that.” He motioned to your dress.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Angel. What’s done is done.” You explained, biting your lip. Seeing him one foot away, eyes locked on you, it was a bit too much. One month was not nearly long enough to get over Angel Reyes. Hell, you didn’t think any amount of time would be sufficient. He was a damn drug, one you couldn’t stay off of.

“So you came here to torture me? Rub it in my face? I fucking miss you and you come to my clubhouse and act like everything’s cool? Act like I didn’t mean shit to you?” He was angry, that was easy to see. But you could tell his tone carried a deep hurt, one he was desperately trying to contain. Your heart ached. You wanted him to hurt, at first. But now seeing him, seeing the desperation and anguish in his eyes? This wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t like hurting the people you loved, even if they hurt you.

“Angel, that wasn’t my intention. Ez asked me to come and I wanted to support him. I’m not trying to hurt you.” You explained, stepping closer to him. That was also dangerous, you should be on the other side of the room, not a few inches away from him.

“Too fucking late.” He ran his ring cladded fingers through his hair.

“What do you want me to say, Angel? You hurt me, you didn’t make time for me. Our relationship was over long before that day.” It was the truth. You subconsciously knew your relationship was over with Angel before you had officially broken it off. You were just too scared to admit it to yourself, too desperate to hang onto the hope that he’d actually show up for you. But he never did and you knew it was time.

“I know, I fucked up. I know that. But what you did that day… that was cold.” You chewed on your bottom lip. Part of you did feel bad for giving him a false sense of hope that day, using him for your release and then dropping him. But you needed to end the relationship on a high note, end it with a sweet goodbye and not a bitter storm of curses, in the end it was all just bittersweet.

“I just… I needed you, Angel. I had missed you so much and I needed something…” You couldn’t find your words but you knew he knew what you meant, even if that day hurt like a bitch for him. He stepped forward, making a move to grab your arm but you backed up and shook your head.

“Mami, please…” He begged, this time you went still as he grabbed your arm with one hand and cupped your cheek with the other. Your body buzzed to life at his touch, like Angel flipped a switch and you were back on again, like you were just being dragged through life this past month on auto pilot, like he had finally given you the reins back to your body.

“Angel…” You were weak, your wavering voice gave you away. He leaned forward, his lips grazing yours slightly, his warm breath mingling with your own. You felt giddy as he surrounded you, as he invaded everything you were once again. And when he pressed his lips to yours, you melted into it. He licked along your lips and you opened your mouth, tongues sliding against each other. You moaned into it and grabbed onto his vest, trying to steady yourself at this heady feeling he gave you every time his lips were on any part of you. His hand slid to your waist and you had half a mind to snap out of your daze. You pulled away and he craned his neck, trying to chase your lips. You pushed on his chest lightly, wanting him to stop.

“No, Angel, we can’t…” You couldn’t get hurt again. You couldn’t just fall back into him just for him to keep you at home waiting up for him and waiting on his call, and when neither came you’d be right back where you started.

“Querida, I love you… I need you.” He whispered against your cheek. Hearing him say those words only made your heart ache worse and only made you want him more. It was damn confusing. You wanted him but you couldn’t put yourself through that shit again.

You knew what he meant. I need you. He didn’t just need a release, he needed you. Just like that day you broke up with him, you needed him to give you that high but you quite plainly just needed him.

“Fine. Let’s fuck and then go our separate ways.” You said, pulling him in for another kiss, needing the distraction. Not wanting to think about how fucking stupid that offer was, how fucking stupid you were. Sex wasn’t going to do anything but fill your base desire, it wasn’t going to give you back that piece of your heart that was ripped away from you when you left. He didn’t let the kiss go on more than a few seconds, pulling away, confusion and despair written all over his face.

“What?”

“Fuck me, Angel. We need it.” You stated plainly. He shook his head and backed up from you.

“No. I need you.” His words pricked another pain in your heart.

“Then take me.” You offered. You were sure you had lost your damn mind. But you wanted Angel, maybe it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted him but you’d take it.

“Fuck no. That’s not what I want.” You sighed, he wasn’t making this easy. Because it wasn’t what you wanted either. Yeah, you were desperate to feel him inside you again but it’s not truly what you wanted.

“That’s all I can offer.” Your words came out softer than you planned, sadder. He scoffed, running his hand down his face.

“You want a release, mami? I’ll give you one, but you’re not getting my dick. I can’t… I can’t be inside you without wanting to stay there. Can’t give you that if I know you’re just going to leave again.” You weren’t sure what he was offering. But it didn’t matter because he was more upset than he had been just a few moments ago.

“Angel…” You shook your head not knowing what to say. Fuck, if he fucked you right now you wouldn’t want him to go anywhere either. But that wasn’t your reality. The reality was that he fucked up and sex didn’t fix it the first time and it certainly wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“I’ll make you come on my tongue, and then you can walk out that door but you’ll walk out knowing only I can take you to heaven.” You swallowed hard at his words as he crowded your space again. Your breath hitched as he pulled you into his chest, making you look into his eyes.

“I’m not going to stop. Not gonna stop calling, texting, not gonna stop until you give me another chance to prove to you how much I fucking love you. But right now, I’ll give you what you want. Even if it kills me.” And with that he slid to his knees. Your whole world stopped at the confession, at him kneeling before you, ready to worship you in a way only he could. The sight of him on his knees, the rush you felt as he trailed his hands up your bare thighs, it was like no other high you had ever felt. Your salvation and your destruction kneeled before you, ready to prove to you how deadly the mix of the two was. Your angel on his knees ready to sin.

His lips trailed up your thighs and you threw your head back, steadying yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His warm breath getting closer to the place you needed him most had your core clenching around nothing, had you squirming, waiting for him.

“Fuck…” You breathed out as he lifted your dress to get his mouth right on the skin above your panties. You bit down hard on your bottom lip as you felt yourself getting wetter at his teasing. His lips skimmed your stomach before he forcefully yanked your panties down, a contrast to his gentle and slow movements. You gasped at the action but before you could react further, he buried his face in your pussy, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder in the process. You yelped at the sudden intensity, at his wet tongue sliding through your folds and flicking against your clit.

“Oh god.” You cried, grabbing onto his hair and grinding yourself into his face. He let you, following your movements, never relenting, never taking his mouth off you. Heaven. He wasn’t wrong, only your angel could take you there.

“Missed your taste. Missed you.” He mumbled against your slick. He said the last part so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but you did. You heard him and it stung but the pleasure he was also giving you was overpowering your thoughts on his confession.

“Feels so good, Angel.” Your words spurred him on as he trailed his tongue to your hole, fucking you. You whined at the intrusion and rolled your hips and pulled his head in deeper. You were drowning again, or flying, or possibly dying. It felt too good, felt too sweet to be anything but something so fucking dangerous yet so damn exhilarating.

You were so lost in your pleasure you almost didn’t notice the door open, Angel obviously didn’t, head still buried in your pussy. The head that peeked around the door was the same woman who had been trying to fuck Angel all night. Her eyes widened at the sight and you should’ve felt embarrassed, but all you felt was that satisfaction again. Angel was here with you, on his goddamn knees for you. Pleasuring you and wanting nothing in return. At your mercy. Your head clouded with need at the thought, not because he was here with you and not some other woman but because he’d only ever do this for you.

You moaned a little louder and the girl snapped out of her shock and displeasure as she awkwardly closed the door.

Now that she was gone, you were once again focused on your man. Not your man. Angel said this would kill him, he didn’t know it was going to kill you too even if you got your release.

“Gonna come…” You cried as he flicked your clit with his tongue. You were yanking at his hair, which only made him moan and made for a sweet vibration on that bundle of nerves. You rolled your hips against his face faster, nearing the edge. The sounds his tongue and your slick were making were enough to put a porno to shame and it only brought you closer.

“Come, let me take you there.” Heaven. You could see it behind your eyelids, could fucking feel it as your orgasm finally shot through the surface, taking you sky high. You let out a litany of curses mixed with his name, eyes watering at the intensity of your high. Earlier you didn’t know if you were flying or drowning, what you realized now was that you were flying and drowning. A mix of gasping for air while simultaneously flying right through it.

Finally you caught a breath as your climax started to fade, Angel still licking his way through it with gentle strokes. You whined as you finally came down, finally came back to this world. He lapped you up slowly and then placed a small kiss to your clit before pulling away and looking up at you. Your breath shook as you looked into his eyes, as he kept your gaze and laced his fingers through yours. You let him. Not having the energy to fight him. He knew what this was, he said it himself before he dropped to his knees. It made you feel slightly less guilty about only taking and not giving.

He finally got to his feet. You saw the tent in his pants but he adjusted himself and cursed under his breath. He didn’t seem to care about that though as he looked at you. You didn’t like the look. A look that held a lot of promise. His beard was slightly damp from your come and your core throbbed at the sight. He licked his lips as if he knew what you were thinking about and took your face in his hands.

“Forgive me.” He whispered, desperate again. You knew what it was. He said he’d get you off, nothing to it, but of course there was a small part of him that thought you’d change your mind after another orgasm.

“No.” Your words stung him, you could tell. But his face hardened and you thought he’d pull away. But instead, he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You will.” And with that promise he was walking out the door, leaving you more confused than ever.

Taglist: @starrynite7114 @xladymacbethx @fear-less-write-more @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @glimmerglittergirl @vicmackeybullshxt @miss-nori85 @blessedboo @kalimont83 @ctrlbitch @angelreyesgirl @langiinspirations @lilac-tea-time @melancholymelanin @-im-fantastic- @withmyteeth @isisafrofairy @elektriknachosss @krysiewithak @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @mental-bycatch @smurfflynn @blackmissfrizzle @arination99 @bucky-iss-bae (if you want to be removed from the taglist for this fic pls let me know!)

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc

599 notes · View notes

fucktheroyals · 4 years ago

Text

You know after reading and reading and reading peoples theories and the meta from before the spn finale aired and the meta writers reactions to the finale I think I have a theory of my own. We don't have any answers tho, so this is pure speculation. If you wanna add something to support or discredit any of this that's cool but there's too many things floating around. Know I dont have proof for this conclusion at all. A lot of what I say is just guesses based on previous facts.

This all came together in my head when I realized how much this finale REEKS of the original producers and who the show was originally for. It REEKS of Robert Singer. Like if the execs started saying they didn't want it, Robert Singer was the one pushing that the story was about the brothers. That kinda thing.

Then, I was thinking of the problems in this episode and it struck me these are all of Supernatural biggest issues and to be honest all of it feels completely deliberate.

Take the sexism for example, Supernatural in it's later seasons largely out grew this, we have Jody, Rowena, Donna, Charlie, Mary, Claire (and even a wayward sisters pilot with MORE women/girls) all making regular appearances. They're mainly good characters and mostly aren't there to hurt our boys. Rowena, of course, is the one outlier being very about herself but it's clear she still cares for them, I mean its part of her development. But they're all real, with character flaws just like everyone else. (And we have Death too and she was POC 😭 THANK GOD)

Now look at the earlier half of Spn, we have Ellen and Jo, who's appearances were far in between. There's Bela in season 3, recurring for quite a bit (5 eps), but she is a character that is only there for herself, definitely not found family (unlike Ellen & Jo), and she's got more episodes in season 3 than Ellen and Jo in season 2 who aren't seen again til season 5. The "fans" send in hate mail after hate mail to try to get these characters off, and eventually they are. Then there's Ruby who's character stayed for a whole two seasons and was a largely recurring character. Why does she get to say so long? She's a plot device. She's supposed to be there to betray Sam. She has to stay (plus Jared obviously likes her). But she's not just a character the writers like writing about. Same with Lilith. Obviously not as recurring but still a plot device. Did they get hate mail tho? You can bet on it. Why? because tHeY'rE gOnNa PuSh ThE bOyS (Dean and Sam) aPaRt ThE sHoW iS aBoUt ThE bOyS oNlY. Without even thinking about the hate mail, just notice how large the difference is from how women are seen in the earlier seasons to the later seasons. Misha got tons of hate mail too for being a character that could split up the boys (probably only being allowed to say because he a man, thanks sexist producers and execs).

Only after Castiel was killed off and then Castiel fans successfully (thank you guys) got him back on the show did the hate mail largely simmer, which means female character's were allowed to stay! Which has lead us to a show with a good amount of female characters. But can you imagine having to kill characters off time and time again because people keep complaining that the show is "only about the boys." Fun times really.

So now we get to this final and we see sexism. But it wasn't just the plain old regular sexism you find in the earlier days of spn. Because now, there ARE women to talk about, talk to. But this episode was DESOLATE women wise, unless they were used for plot (which is also sexist!). Small scenes, they're barely there. Women gets her tongue cut out. Random women from s1 gets killed. Sam doesn't SPEAK of Eileen. Nothing. No mention of any female characters from the boys mouths unless they were from/in this episode itself. That's WIERD. I know we've all said it. But that goes beyond forgetting about characters. I mean its SAM'S GIRLFRIEND for Christ's sake. There is NO REASON they couldn't have said Eileen's name. Notice how Sam's wife is just... faceless. This is literally an age old sexist trope. Like... one of the things about bringing Mary back to life for s12+ is that it takes this trope... of basically a generic mother, and gives her life and feelings, whether you like them or not, they're real feelings. They said Mary isn't just a mom she's a person. Mary's existence in the later half of spn is to fix this kind of female tropes that fall upon her character, to not let these her stay a 2 dimensional character. They said we should know she's more than just the mom who tried to save her kid. Do that is the exact opposite of Sam getting a nameless, faceless wife. The sexism of the old spn wasn't just brought back, it was completely amplified. It wasn't just accidental or some exec "fixing" the story it was DELIBRATE. Whoever wrote that, didn't do ALL OF THAT by accident. Because an exec or a producer who doesn't see the flaws in old supernatural isn't going to write it that deliberately.

Let's bring it back to s10 when Charlie was killed (singer was mainly to blame). Dead in the bathtub, age old classic of burying ur gays. If you were here you know people never let Supernatural live that down. THEY KNOW what bury ur gays means. Hell, Robbie Thompson left because of Charlie's death and you think the writers don't know what it means? I mean both Bobo Berens (especially) and Steve Yockey's careers are centered around LGBT+ storytelling and you think they don't know? They know. They know.

And Dean wasn't just apart of the bury your gays trope, it is so far BEYOND that. Dean being killed on a rusty nail/screw, the tongues ripped out, things that seemed to be meant for other people. Jensen's acting in the last two episodes was giving us "DEAN RECIPROCATES" but no one ever actually saying it. I think it's clear that Dean was killed for being Bi. They didn't address it for a reason, they just silenced him. His narrative was supposed to be about letting him be HIM for the first time, to say what his feelings are instead of having them miscommunicated, and instead of doing that, they just silenced him. And the more we look at this scene the more horrific it gets. The more it's a complete slap in the face and it's supposed to be. Some guy who knows nothing about the LGBT can't write a scene this horrific.

Some guy who knows nothing about Dean couldn't write a scene that deconstructs all of Dean's character development and gives Dean his worst nightmare. I MEAN DEAN WANTED TO LIVE HIS LIFE! THEY DIDNT HIDE THAT JOB APPLICATION (or whatever job related thing that was) IN THERE FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES THEY WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST SITUATION. Dean isn't Barney from HIMYM. If you watched HIMYM then you'll know Barney went from being a stereotypical ladies man and treating women terribly to being in love with a women and treating her right and working hard for it. The last episode of HIMYM (why its so bad) Barney's character development is thrown out and he's back to being a stereotypical ladies man. You don't need to know Barney's character very much to do that.

To kill Dean during a hunt his father never finished, to not have anyone at his funeral, to have Dean die young like his life didn't matter. Those are Dean's worst fears and you'd only truly know that if you watched the gin episode in s3, where they are basically laid out for you. You HAVE to know Dean's character to tear him apart like this.

This episode took all the core elements of the show and did a complete 180° the name of the episode itself is "Carry on" and Dean and Sam very much did not carry on. Sam grieving his entire life so that he good get to heaven and see Dean again. Dean being ready to live his life, despite the enormous pitfalls and learning to love himself only to be killed. "Family don't end with blood." Um.... it did in that episode either literally with Dean's death or you know BECAUSE NONE OF THEIR FOUND FAMILY WAS THERE. Not Jack, Not Cas, Not Eileen, Not Donna, Not Charlie, Not Jody, Not Claire... on and on we go. No one was there, nobody was even mentioned. Dean's funeral, no one even called that we know of. It was just Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean. And Bobby. Don't forget Bobby. But yeah Sam and Dean.

That's what the show is about right, the brothers.

Except it's not anymore. It hasn't been for years.

Cas not being there was deafening but it brought us to a major point. Becky. Becky's telling us about the terrible ending.

And many of us are wondering why would they literally tell us this is the worst ending and then... make it the ending.

Now before we move on, it very apparent many of you think Dabb doesn't ship Deancas. And Dabb doesn't care about the characters.

Say what you will about any plot holes in his writing, the point he is VERY GOOD at writing the characters, and giving us good ones.

Why do we know Dabb ships Deancas? (ill say when its cowrote, other wise its not) cowrote ep 8.02 - purgatory "I prayed to you, Cas, every night" "Cas, Buddy, I need you." "I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you." 8.08 Hunteri Heroici - Cas helps them hunt! 😊❤ Dean & Cas have a serious convo about why Cas doesn't want to see/go to heaven. 8.22 Dean's mad at Cas. Sam's explanation of why Dean should be easy on Cas: "It's Cas." Dean then points out how he'd knife anybody else if they did what Cas did. 9.10 - Cas comforts Dean when Dean can't take seeing Sam (Gadreel) being tortured anymore. Also tons of Cas. 9.20 (bloodlines) - Canonical couple parallel "I was there, where were you" 9.22 The angels make Cas choose between them and killing Dean and he "gave up an entire army for one guy" 10.09 Claire's reintroduction. Cas heavy ep. DeanCas date. 10.22 THE PRISONER - u know the ep where Dean beats the shit out of Cas but loves him enough to not kill him.

We COULD keep going but I think I've made my point. If Robert Singer is the guy that is like "the show is about Sam and Dean only" Andrew Dabb is the DeanCas shipper. And you could even say a Cas stan.

Notice! How in s13 for SEVEN episodes we have a story that revolves around Dean's grief about losing Cas. Notice! How often the stories in all these seasons have a focus on their relationship. THAT is Andrew Dabb. If it weren't for him doing that, we wouldn't be able to easily say after Dean's lack of a response to Cas' confession, that Dean reciprocates.

To me, when I was (binge) watching s12 for the first time, I thought damn this is really got a lot of DeanCas. So I went to look at who was in charge, who was writing. I saw Andrew Dabb, associated him with Deancas episodes, saw all the new writers, Bobo, and then I saw that Yockey is known for same sex stories and it clicked. Dabb assembled a team to give us Destiel. THAT WAS IN SEASON 12!!!!!!!!

The amount of people saying he's homophobic flabbergast me. Open your eyes! That isn't what's going on.

Imagine making a show and trying to right all the wrongs of Supernatural. Imagine trying to write the greatest love story ever told and you have the entire season planned out for it to end off beautifully, it may possibly be your greatest achievement when it's done and then boom. someone comes in and tells you you aren't allowed to make Dean bi or make destiel endgame, after he was most probably already given the go ahead.

Sure. You could imply he's bi or into cas still in a way. Still make nice-ish ending. just give everyone what the kinda want.

Or you could scrap the last season, nothing close to a canonical bisexual Dean Winchester or Deancas endgame in site. People can be done with it be happy with the show, continue to live their lives in ignorance as to how close they were to Canon destiel.

OR you can lead everyone to the very closest you can get them to what you were aiming for and then show everyone the ugly truth and reality. Light it all on fire. Burn the show to the ground in your wake. Try your darnedest to making these people's (the people saying no) pockets suffer. Show us, the audience, what happened. Show us what this show really is.

I've seen people talk about the ending being changed during covid but I dont think that happened. I think what happened was Dabb already had this season planned out before it even started. Obviously the details were wobbly but it was all lead up to this ending. Destiel endgame, Canon Bisexual Dean, whatever it was. They were ready to write the greatest love story ever told and then someone shut it down.

Imagine the pain that must have caused them to be told no when they already said yes. They must have been so excited to give this to us.

I think someone (some producers) told him what this show is "really" about. The brothers. Can you imagine, after being told no, some kinda bullshit like this is said to you: "Why aren't you bringing it back to the brothers, Andrew? that's what the shows about. What with all this homosexual stuff, you know the audience won't like that. Not really." Imagine the original producers pushing this kind of view on you. "You know when we started it was Sam and Dean. It should end with Sam and Dean." That kinda sounds like someone huh? huh.

So why give us a nice acceptable finale, when you can take every problem Supernatural's had either up front or behind the scenes and create a finale so incredibly bad that people don't want to watch it anymore.

Someone made a good point about how Sam was originally supposed to be the main focus (this isn't to put any hate on Sam or Jared). Dean and Sam are the main characters but Sam was supposed to be the focus and for Dean to have become the focus, must have annoyed the producers because... well here we are. They wouldn't listen to Jensen. The producers liked this ending. Jensen's opinion didn't matter to them.

In some ways, if this is really what happened, it can be seen as childish from Dabb. To hurt all of us like that. Yes, he's hurting the producers, the execs, the cw. But to hurt us? Yeah it stings.

But in other ways, if this is really what happened, this is Dabb showing us the muck and gunk under the shiny surface. The hate for Misha. The hidden hate for Jensen. The underlying sexism. The underlying homophobia. The people REALLY in charge don't care about us, they just want our money. He needed to open our eyes and free us, at least free the people that he was writing for. The people he sees that care about this show.

This is the ending the powers that be wanted and its a big fuck you for a reason. I dont think this is Dabb spitting in our faces for loving this show, I think this is him trying to get revenge for us.

But from here, you can see it how u want it. If this is really what happened, I'm not in charge of your emotions, if you wanna be mad be mad if you wanna be grateful be grateful. And you don't have to believe me either I said this is speculation.

Also, as for all of the rumors like there being shots to the confession scene that we didn't see, which Jensen himself implied, I think that might have been a last ditch effort to canonized DeanCas but obviously it was cut. Like the name change was pretty clear. As for Misha possibly having shot some stuff for 20 I dont know what to tell you. If it's true I dont know where the blame would lie.

I do think however, that if all this was the case, the writers were prepared to become villians here. I mean they told us the writers were villians with Chuck right? So. Who knows what went down so they could give us such a vile ending. It could've been the producers or the writers, who truly knows. I do think tho that people we "trust" did some pretty shitty things to push the narrative in certain directions so now one would see this as the actual ending that was coming.

So again do with my SPECULATION what you will. This was in no way meant to put Dabb on a pedestal or anything. Just meant to give a bit of perspective.

(Also Jensen didn't unfollow Dabb recently he was already unfollowed for years)

#15x20 wank #spn finale wank #spn finale meta #15x20 meta #Andrew Dabb #spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #misha collins #jensen ackles #long post #sorry im on mobile #this is the longest post i have ever writen

566 notes · View notes

wormstacheangel · 4 years ago

Text

Day 2 of @spnprideweek and part 2 of sobrenatural fic

Dean ended up coming home a little sooner than he should have, but he didn’t want to lose the shower to Sam. He didn’t want to be sweaty and cochino for his not date with Cas.

Maybe he should have cooled it with the cumbia, making it too obvious that Dean was in a good mood because as soon as he was heading out the door—smelling great, he may add—su Tio called him over to the kitchen.

“¡Oye! ¿A dónde vas tan cambiado?” Tio Bobby was by the stove, smashing the beans for dinner, as he raised his eyebrows at Dean. Sam was standing by the sink peeling tomatillos as he cranes his neck to look over at Dean.

“Dude, what did you do? Break the damn cologne bottle?”

“Es mucho?” Dean lifted his arm to smell himself. “It’s fine!”

“¿Me vas a contestar?” Bobby threw in some whole chiles into the beans and let them simmer away. “¿Quieres que te hable en inglés? Where are you going, niño feo?”

“Estas siego, viejo!” Dean walked over to the small mirror that hung on the wall. You can barely see yourself in it because of the Jesus painting on it, but it still worked. “I’m just going out with some friends.”

“Mmm.” Bobby hummed in reply, going back to turn off the beans once they looked how he wanted it. “Llévate a tu hermano.”

“Tio!” Dean turns around, wide-eyed and heart racing. “I can’t take Sam!”

“I’ll go get my coat!” Sam rinsed off his sticky hands and started to walk out of the kitchen, but Dean grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in close. Pinning him down against his chest, which was difficult considering the kid is a damn giant.

“You aren’t coming with,” Dean mutters to him before begging Bobby again. “Tio, I’ll take Sammy with me tomorrow! Nomas hoy no.”

“¿Y porque no?”

Dean looks between curious eyes, not knowing how to explain himself. He can’t say he’s going out with a friend cause then there would be no reason why Sam couldn’t tag along. But he didn’t want to come out to his Tio and brother now! Fuck that shit; he’ll just lie.

[continue reading under the tab or on ao3]

“I’m going to meet up with Cassie.” Technically true.

Bobby’s eyes widened, and Sam’s grin grew while he wiggled himself free from Dean’s grip. They both liked Cassie and were mad at Dean for breaking things up between them. However, it wasn’t tough when Cassie rarely gave him any attention, always busy with work and school. She had to know Dean was holding her back, so he broke it off. She was mad at him for a while but ultimately thanked him for doing something she didn’t have the courage to do. Rumors still spread, though, because of course, they do, about Dean cheating, but he didn’t care much about those.

Su Tio, though, cared a lot. Dean has to constantly remind him that Dean didn’t cheat on her, and he just broke it off cause Cassie was too smart for him.

Cas is probably too smart for him too.

“Okay, pues, have fun! Bring her home to say hi.” Bobby practically pushed him out the door with Sam happily towering behind him with the same annoying grin.

Dean wondered how disappointed they would be if they found out he was going out with a guy instead.

Dean drove to Cas’s house, waiting outside a few minutes before seven. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Does he honk the horn, or is that too rude? Should he park and get out of the car to knock? That seemed too much like a date thing. And he still wasn’t sure if this was a date or two not-strangers hanging out.

He stayed in the middle of the street, unsure of what to do until finally, the front door opened, and Cas stepped out with a jacked hanging on his arm. He stood outside and squinted at the car before tilting his body down to check if that was Dean.

Dean’s panic from before melted away while he nervously waved at Cas. He saw Cas’s eyes widen with a slow-growing grin before he practically ran over to Dean.

As soon as Cas opened the door, Dean felt so sure that there was nothing more right than having Cas sitting in his passenger side.

“You ready to go, Angelito?” Dean looked Cas over; he’s dressed in dark jeans and a grey long sleeve. He has never seen Cas in anything but that rumpled old suit. He never minded the suit, but now he wished he could burn it because all that suit did was hide Cas’s muscled body. Dean couldn’t stop the whistle that escaped his lips as he said, “Mira! You look good, Cas.”

The compliment was shocking to them both, for Dean especially. He awkwardly cleared his throat while trying to think of an excuse. Maybe even use the whole English as a second language excuse, but Cas quietly responded with a, “Thanks, Dean. You look pretty good yourself.”

And maybe those words broke him. He knew he was attractive but having Cas say that made his head spin.

“Your car is beautiful, by the way. I wasn’t sure if that was you in here.”

“Did you expect me to come in that bike?” Dean jokes before slowly driving away from the house, Los Angeles Azules playing softly on the radio did not make things any less awkward.

“I don’t know what I expected. I’m just glad you came, Dean.”

Dean stopped at the end of the block and turned towards the guy sitting beside him. Cas was already looking at him with puppy dog eyes and a beautiful, hopeful smile. His breath catches in his throat as his mind gets overwhelmed with wanting to reach out and touch Cas. Just to make sure the beautiful boy in his passenger seat was real and make sure que su corazon isn’t just playing games with him.

Instead, he tightened his hold on the steering wheel, fingers burning in protest, as he melts into Cas’s smile. Wanting to relax and just be with him for tonight, not caring que alguien lo va mirar. Enjoy this non-date that looks like it has the chance to become an actual one.

But is that what Dean actually wanted?

“Dean,” Cas reached over to gently touch his arm as if knowing that Dean’s mind had wandered off. He looked hesitant, as if not sure if he was allowed to. “Do you want to go eat? We can if you want.”

Dean looked down at the hand that was burning him through his clothes, knowing damn well that Cas was giving him the chance to make this into something more. Algo que se sentía que iba a ser cósmico en su vida. Y Dean quería eso en su vida.

“Yeah,” Dean answered both questions. His hand loosened on the wheel before he reached over to take Cas’s hand in his. Hearing Cas’s breath catch in a gasp, but he didn’t look up at him; instead, Dean twined their fingers together before letting them sit in the seat between them. Dean focused back on the road before turning left to his side of town. “I got the perfect place. Te va gustar! You’re not like vegan or anything, right?”

“No.” Dean turned to catch Cas looking at him still and knew they were both feeling the same excited electricity that clouded the car just by the giddiness in his voice. “Where are you taking me on our, oh um…Oh! primero! Primero date, Dean?”

Ahi esta! La confirmación que necesitaba. This is an actual date! Pero, las palabras no le dieron pánico. No. Instead, Dean squeezed Cas’s hand as he laughed, feeling like he would just fly away if he didn’t hold on.

“You passed high school Spanish, Cas?”

“I did, but google translate did most of the work.”

When Dean parked outside the familiar food truck, he squeezed Cas’s hand once before they got out. They walked together, bumping shoulders while their hands stayed buried in their pockets. Cas didn’t question their lack of touch; instead, he smiled up at Dean as he listened to him rave about his friend Victor’s food.

“Not as good as mine, but it’s good,” Dean adds as they make it to the front of the window, where Victor can hear him.

“Cabron!” Victor said with no fire in his tone but a growing grin across his face. He held his hand out for Dean to take for a handshake. “Nice to see you, primo. Where’s Sam?”

“Lo deje en la casa!” When Dean took a step back, he put his arm around Cas’s shoulder to squeeze him close. “Pero, I brought a new customer.”

“Hi.” Cas looked a little shaken up, and Dean just wanted to lean closer to leave a kiss on his cheek, but he restrained. No necesita mas chisme circling around about him. “I’m Cas.”

“Victor.” Victor raised an eyebrow at him but reached over to shake Cas’s hand in response. “What can I get you and the pendejo around you?”

“Oh. Dean isn’t-” Cas frowned over at Dean, but Dean just shook his head, letting him know that it was okay. Cas squinted at him before he gave a small smile, not understanding but accepting. “You order for me?”

“Sure, Angelito. Anything you don’t like?”

“As long as it’s not so spicy, I don’t mind anything.”

Cas stayed stiff under Dean’s arm as they ordered and waited for their food. Eventually, Dean couldn’t help himself; the street light and the neon sign were the only things keeping this place lit, but it was still pretty dark, so he turned his face to press his nose against Cas’s temple.

“¿Qué pasa, Angelito? What’s wrong?”

“Dean.” Cas sounded shocked as he started to move back, but Dean held him a little tighter. “Someone is gonna see you.”

“Que miran. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Cas sighed but relaxed back into Dean. “I just didn’t like him calling you that. You aren’t stupid, Dean.” Dean chuckled, and Cas turned to look at him, glaring. “I don’t see how this is funny.”

“Ay, mi Angelito, he didn’t say it in a mean way. It’s just the way we talk to each other. He’s my friend.”

Cas blinked at him a few times before he fell back against Dean, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I don’t like it.”

“Trust me, Cas, it’s fine. Quedate conmigo long enough, and you’ll be calling me the same thing.”

Cas didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Dean wondered if he said the wrong thing again, but then Cas clicked his tongue before turning to Dean. “I don’t know what…um, that word you said means. Que..que-?”

“Quedate?” Cas nodded, looking back at Dean, waiting for him to explain. It brought warmth to Dean’s chest, knowing he’ll have to repeat it in English when before it came out as a joke. He swallowed hard as he looked back at those baby blues. The words barely came out in a quiet whisper, “Quedate. Stay. Conmigo. With me. I said, stay with me.”

“Oh.” Cas looked down at Dean’s lips as he talked. “I can-I can do that.”

Dean hummed a response as his eyes traveled down to Cas’s tongue poking out to lick at his lips. His heart was hammering in his chest until it came to a stop when he heard, “Dean! Oye, cabron! I ain’t calling your name again!”

They pulled apart, and Dean jogged over alone to grab their bag of food. Dean decided to get a few of his favorites and drinks.

“Victor,” Dean called his friend over again. “No le digas a nadie que estaba aquí. Okay? Or I’m gonna steal all your customers otra vez.”

Victor’s eyes traveled from Dean to Cas, who was waiting where Dean left him looking angelic under the streetlamp, before falling back to Dean. He wondered what could be going through Victor’s mind right that moment, but then he heard his friend let out a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, primo.”

“Thanks. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll work for you this weekend!” Dean starts walking backward, back to Cas.

“Shit! Really? ¡No juegues conmigo, Dean!”

“Llámame mañana!”

Dean makes it back to Cas, who automatically reaches for the drinks to help, and motions for him to walk back to the car.

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.”

Dean drove them somewhere nicer, more private, but still a parking lot.

As soon as Dean parks the car, he opens his door, “Come on; we can sit on the hood. You might wanna put that jacket on.”

Cas looks excited when he opens the car door and walks out into the parking lot that faces the beach. “Dean! Won’t we get a ticket?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just bring the drinks.”

They sat on the hood of the impala, eating and talking, as the sounds of the waves crashing to the shore mixed with la musica norteña coming from inside the car. Dean soon finds out that Cas doesn’t know how to dance, so he puts on one of his favorite mixtapes, and cumbia plays loudly through the speaker.

They danced in front of the headlights, if you can call it dancing. They always ended up bursting into fits of laughter as they fell into each other because Cas did have two left feet. Eventually, Dean just took Cas from around the waist, and they just spun around in circles.

Feeling Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s neck to hold him as their grins were so close together made Dean’s heart leap. Eventually, Cas’s forehead fell against Dean’s, and the dancing slowed to a nice sway even though the beat was only getting quicker.

“Cas?” He answered Dean with a soft hum. “Me estas gustando mas cada segundo.”

“I don’t know-”

“I like you.” Dean’s eyes closed as he leaned in to brush their noses together. “Mi Angelito.”

Dean never thought he would be here in this situation with a guy, but he has never wanted anything more in his life. Feeling strong hands run through his hair as a strong and firm body pressed against him. He loved the intoxicating smell of Cas’s woodsy shampoo that he would have never smelled on a girl. The stubble of beard rubbed against his chin as Cas turned his head until finally, fucking finally, he had those pink lips on his.

He should be scared. Esto no es algo que debería hacer con El pinche Sonidito playing in the background. He shouldn’t have one hand behind Cas’s neck to deepen the kiss, and his toes shouldn’t curl up when he feels Cas’s heavy sigh inside his mouth. He shouldn’t become so quickly addicted to Cas’s hands reaching under Dean’s shirt to press firmly at his back, feeling the familiar slight burn become a damn forest fire in him.

Esto no es algo que debería querer. Cas no es alguien que debería querer pero aqui esta. Queriendo a nadie más pero a Cas. Cas. Cas.

Cas pulled away just enough only to have their noses touching, their breaths still mixing, as he whispered. “I like you too, Dean.”

And yeah. That was it. That was all it took.

Las cadenas del maldito miedo that held him back from even thinking of wanting Cas this way, se rompieron. Dean ya pertenece completamente a Cas.

Cas grinned as he looked back at Dean, his hand reaching to cradle his face gently. His thumb was caressing Dean’s freckles on his cheek before he happily announced. “¡Me gustas mucho!”

Dean laughed, his arms reaching down to wrap around Cas’s waist and spin him around. Both of them laughing as they continued dancing and kissing until it was late enough that they had to go home.

#inspo from a real date of mine!#instead of the beach we went to a lake and we had to leave early cause i thought I was gonna die #being in mexico and around water just makes me think of the llorona and i get scared so sue me #but this is much better #destiel #deancas #fic #destiel fluff #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #latinenatural #sobrenatural #wormstachewrites #my writing #spnprideweek #also yes i know im late for day two but life has been a mess

112 notes · View notes

vminity21 · 4 years ago

Text

Speak Now | myg

Pairing: groom!yoongi x bestfriend!reader

Word Count: 3,124

Genre: angst/fluff

Warning(s): curse words used, mention of a toxic relationship, mention of advances toward infidelity Rated: pg 13

Summary: When the love of your life is about to marry the wrong person, you muster up enough courage to profess your heart before it is too late. By late, you mean the day of your best friend’s wedding.

Credits to: @suhdays for making the cover, you are my favorite!

With clammy palms, you relieve a steady breath descending into the pew while bundles of people bustle through the chapel doors in search for a place to sit. You picked the first available section that you saw and with a silent prayer, you hope that whoever chooses the same row will maintain their distance. With your mind racing, you frantically observe the scenery encompassing the audience from the colorful stained windows, the mahogany pulpit to the rich color of the carpet- absolutely anything to distract you from the overwhelming anxiety plaguing your tightening chest. There is, rather, one thing you are searching for. More like, someone. You are aware he is hidden in a room in preparation for the event about to take place, but unbeknownst to him, you did reluctantly, after many nights of pondering, decide to show up with a mission in tow. Your heart shattered in millions of pieces when you discovered, scrolling through social media, that Yoongi’s wedding ceremony was shared on his wall.

Upon assumption, you were not invited to the event for reasons you are certain of. But this post gave you a date and a time to organize your thoughts and the words that you want to say.

Since elementary school, you and Yoongi have been inseparable. Thick as thieves as your best friend Monnie would say; two peas in a damn pod her boyfriend Jeongguk would say, and even your mother supported the dream of you and Yoongi getting married one day. That day seemed to vanish suddenly even though Yoongi has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, and regardless of him being taken, you have also been his shoulder to lean on throughout his incredibly toxic relationship with his soon to be bride to be. The comical part of it all to you is that she has never been fond of you from the beginning which you inwardly knew it boiled down to jealousy. And as you figured, you were not invited because she demanded so.

Anger brims harshly beneath you and in attempt to clear your unwanted thoughts, you shake your head. She’s irrelevant anyway. It is Yoongi I am here for. In the end, you are here for one reason and one reason only. For Yoongi to know how you feel about him once and for all.

“Y/N?” Jung Hoseok approaches you, one out of the six best friends Yoongi has other than you. From afar, shoulder leaned against the brick wall of the school, you stared in evident longing as Yoongi set his backpack in his car irritatingly. A fight unfolded between him and his girlfriend and the pair were oblivious to you being a witness. Uncertain of yet again why she was mad at him, you turned to face Hoseok with a gasp of surprise since he unexpectantly caught you hiding. “Look,” he wets his lips, “If you don’t tell him how you feel, I will.”

“Please don’t!” You gasp, watching your volume as you switch your gaze to make sure Yoongi and the blundering wench hadn’t seen your presence. Turning to Hoseok, you plead, “It’s not-! What if?” You sigh, “What if I can’t? What if he still doesn’t get it?”

“But she’s not good for him and you know it. If there’s anybody who deserves each other it’s the two of you,” Hoseok’s expression becomes saddened when you look away from him. Emotions gather in the form of tears as you fight to hold them back.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be standing here telling you to confess to him if I felt it was a bad idea.”

The church pews continue to become occupied until the echoes of conversation simmer to cease once the out of tune organ cringingly serenades the atmosphere. Wincing in response, you grit your teeth to stifle a giggle because of course the wench of the west would choose the most untuned instruments there are. Ultimately, how fitting can this be for a wedding that should not even be happening? Turning to look at the first coupled bridesmaid and groomsman, memories start to churn when you see each of Yoongi’s friends. Hoseok was not the only one who warned you ahead of time to profess your feelings for Yoongi.

“So, when are you going to tell Yoongi you’re ‘unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him?’” Taehyung’s fluffy curls fall into his eyes as his cheeky grin enters your vision. He is leaned over the back of the couch as he bounces from his knees hitting the cushion.

“And this concludes the last and final time that I will ever watch Twilight with you,” you announce, crinkling at the wrapper of a rice krispie treat from the kitchen. “I’m not as wanted as Bella Swan.”

“You see that’s where you’re wrong. What makes you think you are the only one who feels the connection?”

Pausing from your eventual snack, you glare at your friend, “I’m not in love with him,” you denyingly mutter.

“Your eyes say you are.”

“Gah! Taehyung, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not going to happen, alright? He has a girlfriend. Obviously if he wanted me, he could have chosen me a long ass time ago. We’ve been in each other’s lives all this time, so why hasn’t he said anything?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe he thought he couldn’t?”

“Excuse me?”

“As being a previous ex of yours, let me explain.”

“We dated for two days. In the first grade!”

“It counts.”

You scoff, pressing the krispie treat underneath your palm as you lean onto the counter to steady your rising nervousness. After a moment, you signal for Taehyung to proceed.

“I think you tend to forget that you’re not the only one who is afraid to confess your feelings to someone. Yoongi may be afraid, too.”

You shrug in reply.

“You are his best friend, Y/N. Maybe he didn’t want to be at fault for ruining a friendship if you happened to not feel the same, so he settled for her.”

He’s right, and deep down beneath the fear, you know it. Stepping toward Taehyung, you ruffle his frilly tendrils, “I loathe you.”

Playfully slapping you away, he chuckles, “Hence why I force you to binge watch chick flicks with me. I loathe you, too.”

Taehyung and his bridesmaid LenLen remain poker faced as they gradually step down the aisle. The memory of Taehyung fades when you find Namjoon sitting alone staring straight ahead with the same expression and another flashback ensues.

After ranting about how hurt you are by the upcoming wedding date, Namjoon visits to console you since counseling is something he does daily, and he is the perfect friend who listens to every word you say other than Min Yoongi. “I just don’t get it. She treats him so poorly and all it does is break my heart. And of course, I never got an invite. She despises me!”

With crossed arms, Joon’s glasses sit daintily on his face while the turtleneck he is wearing shapes his frame- he looks incredibly professional even on his day off. “Yoongi asked me to be in the wedding,”

“Oh?” you say, “As he should. You are one of his best friends,”

“I am, but she happens to despise me, too.”

“What?” You gasp incredulously, “How could? Joon, how do you even know that?”

He settles upon the couch while your gaze follows him, a brief sigh brushes his lips, “He asked me to marry them which she openly opposed.”

“That’s.. That’s a really huge deal, Joon. So, are you going to do it anyways?”

“No,” Namjoon responds quickly, “The reason she despises me is because she thinks I will ruin her and Yoongi’s relationship, the same as she sees you- a threat.”

“But how?”

Joon rubs at the crease in his eyebrows, “She made advances toward me when they first started dating, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him which is why I can’t push you to tell him your truth until you are ready. I was scared he would think I was lying. The last time I saw her was at a sports game and when he left to grab her a drink, she started touching my thigh and I left immediately.”

“That’s why,” your voice trails off as you remember something, “That’s why Yoongi was so worried about you! Because you never miss a game with him! It was because of that conceited, selfish bi-”

“Hey, let’s not stoop to her level. I strongly dislike her as well, she put me in a very uncomfortable position which is why I am never around when she is. I refuse to be pictured as whatever she decides to manipulate.”

“Joon,” you murmur, leaning forward to squeeze his shoulder, “We all know who you are. Yoongi adores you. Knowing how she is, we would have believed you over her most definitely. Are you going to attend the wedding at all?”

“I’m not sure,” your eyes flicker between his as sadness clouds them, “I want him to be happy and the only person he would be happy with is you.”

It was silent immediately after Namjoon said those words that are still repeating within your mind. Did all of Yoongi’s friends concoct a plan to nudge you to profess the entirety of your heart to him? And what happened to Namjoon was so cruel and it was the final straw that motivated and fueled you to do exactly what you are about to do today. She doesn’t deserve Yoongi, she doesn’t deserve his family, she doesn’t deserve his friends, and she most definitely doesn’t deserve his love. It is time for Min Yoongi to know the truth and nothing but the truth.

The piano chimes in with the organ clashing hideously as the time drags, and you notice Hoseok who is arm and arm with a bridesmaid you are unfamiliar with, stifling the urge to react to the disconcerted music. He takes his place where the best man stands and links his hands before him- a quick grin is shared with whoever he makes eye contact with and his dimples appear for the slightest of seconds. Seokjin and Jimin as well as Jeongguk are completely lined already and when Guk finally locks eyes with Monnie who is sitting in the audience, they share loving smiles. After today, if all works accordingly, Yoongi will be yours and you no longer would envy the love you always longed for with him.

Looking back especially after all the encouragement from you and Yoongi’s friends, there are moments where you almost worked up the bravery to tell him the truth, but it seemed with every opportunity, his girlfriend would find some way to interfere. It was as if she disturbingly knew your schedule and your thoughts which is something you never truly admitted to your friends. You didn’t want her to sound like an excuse that is holding you back from saving Yoongi’s heart from further turmoil.

Flitting your gaze to the handsome lineup of groomsmen, you realize not even one is smiling. Before you can contemplate further on all the reasons why there aren’t any smiles, you move your gaze just for your heart to halt instantly. There he is. Min Yoongi, the love of your life, dressed in a well fitted tuxedo that clings to his thin frame, makes his way timidly to stand in front of the pulpit. His blonde hair spreads neatly upon his forehead while his lips stay in a firm line once he takes a moment to fix the cuffs of his sleeves before resting his hands together in front of him. Gaping at how beautiful he looks; the nerves swerve tremendously inside you because the time is inching closer for you to tell him everything without holding back.

Your shoulders tense once the reverend directs the audience to rise, you are so focused on Yoongi, you hardly can hear the beginning of the wedding march as you swallow roughly. Standing to your feet, your hands are freezing when you hold them together, yet you muster enough to turn to see her make her entrance- the bride who wanted to hold captive of Yoongi’s heart. It’s hard to watch her smile at him as if she truly cares for him, it takes everything not to feel nauseated by the scene. The way she has treated Yoongi, Namjoon, and everyone else it feels like, will never settle with you. The times she obsessively called Yoongi whenever the pair of you would study together, interrupting the time he wanted to spend with his guy friends, or the curse words she would spew at him when she didn’t have her way; or the times she made him cry by threatening to leave him just to turn around and post a selfie of her and a random guy to make Yoongi jealous. So of course, Namjoon would have been heard. He has a heart of gold as well as the rest of the crew. And Yoongi deserves to surround himself with this serene positivity.

She stands before Yoongi as the two join hands. He hardly gives a smirk; doubt seems to exist within his glance, or so you hope. Your icy palms clasp together once the preacher bellows for the guests to now take their seats. The ceremony proceeds, yet you wait for the preacher to say the exact words you are desperately wanting to hear. Lightheaded, you feel the blood drain from your body despite the hammering your heart is profusely beating against your rib cage.

Never in your life did you dream you were going to do what you are about to do. It is bold. It is courageous. And you could care less about what the aftermath will be. The only person whose reaction matters is Min Yoongi’s. The reverend seems to drag his sentences, but when he clears his throat, you straighten your back in preparation for what is coming next.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Here’s your chance.

Hands shaking, body trembling, you jolt from your seat,

“I. OBJECT!”

Dramatic responses of collected gasps reverberate to the ceiling of the building. Eyes turn to stare at you in congruent with the hushed whispers scattering amongst the pews wondering why you made such a bold choice; and, if looks could kill, you would drop lifeless by the dark daggers burning through your skull by the witch trying to be Yoongi’s forever. Fingertips numb, you try to tune out the raving murmurs, you hadn’t realized you closed your eyes for a few seconds to gather yourself, and when you open them, they instantaneously connect with Yoongi’s that enlarged in shock. His thin lips part and as you gaze at him, tears pool though you relentlessly try to fight them.

“Yoongi,” you speak between stammered breaths, “I know this is…. Sudden, and possibly the most insane thing I am ever going to do,” you put a quivering hand to your lips for a second then dropping it to your side, “But Yoongi, if there is anyone who deserves to spend the rest of their life with you, it’s me.” You cannot believe that sentence slipped from your mouth, but in your heart, you know it’s the truth. Just like that, without your knowledge, smiles begin to bloom from the men standing by Yoongi’s side. Not only do you see it, but so has everyone else who has been in each of your lives. Why else would his “bride to be” have been jealous of you since their whole relationship began a few years ago? She could even sense the chemistry you and Yoongi have shared and still share.

“Yoon, she will never see you the way I see you; the way your family sees you; or the way your best friends see you.” From your peripheral vision, you see a gleamingly proud Hoseok along with Namjoon whose hopes are flying as high as yours, but your gaze never once falters from Yoon’s. Wetting your lips, you continue, “I know you. I have always known you. And you deserve the world and so much more.” Yoongi steps forward then pauses to hear more of what you have to say, “And Yoon,” a tear escapes, trailing warmly down your burning cheek, “I am deeply, undoubtedly, and wholeheartedly in love with you.”

In that moment, Yoongi begins to walk down the stairs, Taehyung’s boxy smile lights up his face as he fist pumps excitingly in the air. You may not have used the exact words from his favorite script, but you know you are beyond words with how much you are in love with Min Yoongi. The horrified bride agonizingly tries to stop Yoongi, but he refuses to take his eyes off you, brushing past her, she lights up in prominent rage. You, with glistening hope sparking across your soul, you shuffle past the gawking people in the pew, ready to crash into Yoongi’s arms.

When he reaches you, his tepid palms cup your face, swiping away the tears that just keep falling as you stare into his umber eyes that mirror the emotions you have brought to him that he is finally seeing. Before you can take a breath, he leans in, capturing your kiss exactly how he has desired, but never found the courage to reveal, that he in fact would dream of you too on countless nights. Or when he felt uneasy or sad, he would relive the best memories that happened to be with you to give him peace. Everything you have ever dreamed of is coming true as the fireworks explode in every direction within your chests. He kisses you so passionately that you both forget about the world, your hands dig into the sides of his tuxedo jacket as he deepens the kiss, tugging him as close as he can be.

Namjoon starts clapping as he stands to his feet until the entire place erupts in a fit of cheers. Even though hundreds of people are encompassing the two of you, it still feels like it is only you and Yoongi within the vast universe. How long have you waited for this moment with the one person you have loved for so long? How many stars had you wished on to finally end up where the two of you are now?

Breathless, Yoongi rests his forehead to yours while the sensation of his kiss still lingers, dazed and filled with immense happiness, you gaze at him fully, he speaks, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

324 notes · View notes

babbushka · 4 years ago

Note

For sinday may I please request some sensual smut with Knight Kylo? Tracing his scars or massaging his muscles. Him worshiping you like the queen you are? I just love him. Thank you!!!

1k, NSFW (soft smut, PIV, but nothin’ too crazy)

It is your favorite time of night, times like these. Times where after a long day of ruling the kingdom, you and Kylo might retreat back to your bedchambers, might indulge in one another both in body and mind.

The fireplace is gently rolling, rain pitter patters against the glass of the window, and in the glowing amber light, you and Kylo stare into one another’s eyes, reverent in the purest of senses.

He has you facing him, your legs intertwined. For the past few hours you have engaged in lazy, languid lovemaking, and though the passions have wound down to a gentle simmer, still your bodies remain connected; hips shifting against hips, his cock buried deep inside your warm wet cunt.

Kylo has a hand cupping your cheek which doesn’t rest against the pillow, your faces so close that he can rub his nose against yours, your lips ghosting across one another. His other hand is tucked underneath your neck, a secondary support for your precious head.

With a soft moan, you clench around his cock ever so slightly, pressing your body as close to him as possible, kissing him, breathing in time. Your free hand lightly traces the scar which splits his face nearly in two, down towards the bottom of the long red line. It curls and curves around his throat, onto his shoulder, and not for the first time you think how lucky you are that he has survived such a nasty wound.

“Tomorrow I shall take you out into the country,” Kylo murmurs, his eyes closed. “If the weather permits, of course.”

You smile, your body pliant and sweaty, opening your mouth and hips for him as he takes his fill of you once again. His tongue lavishes affection across yours, as his cock seeks friction that only your pussy can provide – he seeks it and he obtains it, with low grunts deep in his chest, that hand on your cheek lowering lowering lowering until it can cup and squeeze at your breast.

“And what shall we do in the country, my king?” You moan softly, licking across the edge of his crooked teeth, your eyelashes brushing his cheek.

“We will pick strawberries together and feast upon them, kissing the juices from one another’s lips.” Kylo moans right back, before he is rolling on top of you once again, biting at his lip until it is deep red, swollen, much like the head of his cock as he pushes it through your folds for the umpteenth time that night.

“That sounds like a wonderful day.” You sigh, floating in the abundance of pleasure, even though he moves slowly, your words still sound like syrup to your ears as you mumble out, “Although I cannot help but suspect that you merely wish to avoid another conference like the one you had today.”

“Perhaps.” Kylo ducks his head and kisses your throat, darkens the bruises he had already left there, making you wince ever so slightly as your knees fall open and you welcome him into your body deeper.

“Mmm, careful with me darling, you put me through quite the ringer tonight.” You chuckle as his hips grind against yours, no speed or harsh treatment, just more of the same indulgent revelry of pleasure.

“Sore?” Kylo frowns, concerned, as if he didn’t think that would be a possibility.

“A little, but it’s alright – it’s certainly worth the burn in my muscles, that cock of yours.” You grin, beaming up at him like the light from the stars themselves.

Kylo grunts a little, corrals your legs around his hips and does all the work for you as your fingers trail up and down his scar once again, your eyes rolling back into your head, your teeth sinking into the plush comfort of your lower lip as you allow yourself to be taken.

“I have just decided that I hope the weather doesn’t permit.” Kylo announces through a shaky breath, as his hips push into you a little more forcefully, a little more purposefully.

“Oh?” You gasp, a sound which is swallowed by his mouth when he lavishes your face with kisses, soft pants of effort against your cheek.

“That’s right, because then that would mean I get to keep you here all to myself, wrapped in mine arms, where I might kiss you and tend to you until you are no longer sore.” He proclaims in a mock-whisper.

“You don’t need the rain to do that, darling – oh! Kylo, yes!” You grip at his muscular back, inviting the soft pulses of pleasure that have your back arching toes curling thighs trembling, your nipples stiff and desperate for attention, attention that only he can give you.

He lowers his mouth and sucks on them, tongues them and grazes his teeth against them, before biting and sucking into the flesh of your breasts themselves, burying his strong nose into your cleavage and moaning into your sternum as he chases another orgasm.

You are reminded then, of your honeymoon, in the way that he is so desperate for you, hungry. A starving man, finally getting his drink of water. It warms your chest that even after these years you have been together, he still looks at you like a man mad with thirst.

He comes eventually, and you soon after, and you know in the way his muscles sag as he flops back down onto the mattress, that this was the last round of the night. Tucking yourself against his sweaty chest, you listen to the beat of his heart, and smile hidden there, for you cannot think there are any words grand enough to describe the love you feel for him.

“I hope it rains all day tomorrow,” You sigh happily, dreamily, as his hands soothe your aches all over your body, “Because heaven knows I’m going to need it.”

Kylo chuckles, a low rumble that sounds like thunder, and you have a feeling that you’ll both have that particular wish granted.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you #kylo ren x you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #medieval kylo #medieval au #adam driver fanfic #adcu

204 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

The Servant and The Prince | Four

Mama Mia, here we go again lovelies!

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter four

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: anger, mentions of abuse (not graphic), mentions of death (not graphic)

Tags: angst, fluff

Word count: 6.2k (oh god)

Previous | Next

Master List

Y/n’s heart thunders as she gazes up at the glittering golden gates of the castle. If she was not so bogged down with bags she would throw a hand over her brow— a futile attempt to keep her eyes from burning out of their sockets. Do they really have to be this glittery? She thinks they are marvellous, that is not the problem. The problem is that she is not marvelous. Not in the slightest. Not worthy of such magnificent, splendid, rich architecture. She glances down at her simple dress— the loose green threads hanging from the side of the garment— she had meant to fix those— is this really where she must stay? Surely there must be a stable somewhere. A barn for animals like her.

“Come on you churl—” Estrid hisses, her demon-esq nails digging into her arm where her step mother’s hand curls over sleeve— “you are making us look bad. At least pretend to have some couth.”

Estrid drags her forward for a moment, ushering her— all but kicking her— through the blinding gates before losing interest and rushing to meet Anna. Y/n bites her tongue. There are many things she could say. It is almost strange just how many retorts rush to her tongue. They race through her skull, infecting her mind like a sort of mould. Unlike with the bread back home she cannot seem to pick away at it— she cannot make the bad spots go away.

Perhaps if they had not left her to carry all of their things then she would not be taking so long. Do they really believe the princes will spare their diamonds a glance anyway? They are sure to be able to smell the fakes from miles away!

Y/n blinks a few times at the roar of fire that swells in her chest, encasing her very lungs in flames, almost stumbling over the marble stairs beneath her. It feels as though if she does not scream right now— if she does not say everything on her mind, unleash this pent up resentment— then she will surely cook from the inside out. It bubbles, simmers, does the thing pots do when they begin to sizzle— like they are screaming but she is not screaming; she only wishes she was. But she has never wanted to scream and she has been through so much worse. What is one little name, one hand yanking her arm? It is nothing but still she is ready to let the flames engulf her and burn the entire city.

It is terrifying— this kind of all consuming rage.

Estrid turns back towards Y/n, who is still stumbling over the steps, always the faithful servant, and her step mother scoffs. Estrid mutters something under her breath that she cannot hear. An insult, no doubt. It does not reach her ears. There is no way she would have been able to hear it anyway, not over the sound of the flames disintegrating her bones and blood and flesh from the inside out. It makes her want to scream louder— harder, make the castle walls crumble the same way she feels like she is— loud enough to hear over the roar.

Can you not hear it? Do you not care? She can taste the words as they beg for mercy on her tongue, wanting nothing more than to die on the cobblestone before her, spat out in a string of venom like they are meant to be. Can they not see that she is burning to the ground?

She barely swallows the words— she can hear them crying as they pass her throat and she almost changes her mind. She almost sets them free. It is all she can do to bend her neck at her step mother, wonder if the flames are visible in her eyes, and try not to cough up smoke right here on the castle steps. That would be very unladylike— a dishonor on her family. Oh— wait— no it would not be. Her family is dead. She can vomit as much smoke and flames as her little, burning heart desires. She has no one left to bring shame to. Gods, she is so terrified.

Why she is terrified, she does not know. She has never been scared before— not like this.

She was scared of the dark for the longest time. She used to see shadows on her walls and under the waves in the wash basin and against the trees when her mother would make her fetch the cat before bed. She used to think that was true fear— the night. The shadows. The wash basin. But then the morning sun would come and fight the shadows— then her mother would empty the basin— and before long there was nothing left to be afraid of.

But then there was no mother to empty the wash basin and suddenly she was afraid of death and the dark. Surely death must be the greatest fear one can have. Right? The all consuming nothingness, the longest sleep, the unknown. What could be scarier than the unknown? Than losing the people she loves the most and being left to wonder where they are and what they are doing— if they can even do anything— and are they okay? Please, someone just tell her, are they okay? She is not okay.

Darkness and death— death and darkness. At least those were always the scariest things and at least she had overcome them— both of them. There is nothing scarier than those two things. Except, apparently, herself. That is all there is left to be afraid of. Not Estrid or Anna, not pain. Not him. Those are all things she has survived. Overcome. Enjoyed. There is only herself to be afraid now, and the overwhelming, unbearable anger unfurling in her chest and arms and neck and skull. She is terrified of herself.

She is terrified of the anger.

“This way ladies— your chambers are this way!”

Y/n blinks— certain her eyelashes are singed and the blur in her vision is from the smoke in her eyes— and finds that she is no longer on the marble steps but in a long hallway. Pillars rise to her left, showcasing an expansive forest and a smudge of blue that must be the ocean. It feels so close— she can see the waves cresting with white foam so it must be. She can smell the salt, like it is right next to her. She can almost feel the surf lapping at her toes, cooling some of the burning tingle. She would do anything for it to rush up her legs. Soak her dress. Make her skin sticky. She would take the stickiness over the relentless flames. There is no time, though, to take her moment of peace. No time for stickiness. There never is.

“Are you deaf?” Estrid’s hand presses down on her spine, right where the bruises are from the last time the two came in contact. “Move! I will not take kindly to getting the worst chamber because of your dawdling.”

Are the bruises purple? She wonders. Perhaps they are red and black— like molten lava, shifting under her skin. She does not voice her musings aloud, of course. She swallows those thoughts alongside the rest of them. She can feel the precise way they fall on top of their partners, each wasted syllable mushing into the last. They fill her aching belly all the way, pressing on the hollow dip of her throat. If her thoughts were food she would never be hungry again.

Of course, she does not say any of that. Instead she bows her head, eating the flames as they rise. She is so full already though. “I am very sorry, Milady.”

Estrid scoffs. “You should be. Henry should have drowned you at birth had he known you would be so slow.”

At the sound of her father’s name her head snaps up. Estrid is already walking away again, hurrying to meet her impatient daughter. Anna taps her heel against the marble. Click, click, click. Each tap makes her head pound harder. Soon she cannot hear the clicks anymore. Her father would never do anything of the sort— her father was kind! They are not looking at her anymore. They cannot see the smoke billowing from her ears. They cannot see the blackness she feels flashing across her vision. They cannot see the hate. Just like she cannot see the bruises. Are they purple? Are they scarlet? What would her father think of them? She cannot see the bruises but she can feel them. Hot and itchy and painful. Can they feel the hatred? Are they just ignoring it like she is ignoring the volcanic bruises?

Probably. And they are not the only ones. Y/n weaves through the crowded hallway, dodging women of all shapes and colors— quite literally, she narrowly passes a woman with purple tinted skin— all of whom spare her not even a glance. It makes her feel invisible. It makes feel like she can finally breathe. It makes her angry. She is breathing the smoke again. Every face that passes her that does not look at her makes her charcoal lungs ignite even more. Her only solace is the all too familiar feeling of being split in two. The anger is not wholly her own— it is his as well. She can feel him in her chest, that aching part of her anger where he demands to be seen.

Is he mad at her?

She stops dead in her tracks. Just like that, her own anger is gone, replaced with something ice cold and unbearable. It starts in her hands. Her wrists begin aching— freezing— as the ice flows up through her veins. She thought the fire was bad. She takes it all back in this moment— she wants the flames again. The ice is in her chest now. She can feel it creeping closer to her heart. She wants the anger back. Her anger. Why would he be angry with her?

Does he hate her? She can no longer feel her heart beating— the ice has done its job. It is after her throat now, climbing higher and higher. What would it feel like to throw up shards of Ice? Nevermind, she does not want to know. She had wanted to scream before. She had wanted to burn the kingdom down with her voice and words and screams. Now she cannot even whimper. Her tongue is frozen. Her knees hit the floor— she does not feel it. Maybe it does not even happen, maybe her eyes are just frozen now and playing tricks on her. They make her feel as though she is falling— pull the ground from under her and send her vision spinning— but perhaps she is still standing. Still following. Still invisible.

Why would he hate her?

She watches as feet pass by her, heels and boots of all colors all slowing when they cross her path. Well, maybe they are slowing. Maybe that is just her mind continuing to play tricks on her though. She would not be able to tell the difference right now— if there is one, that is. She cannot look past the soles of the shoes, cannot meet the eyes of those passing her. She is stuck— her neck which was so hot only moments ago now stiff. To think that a simple thought could send her reeling in such a grand way as to literally floor her. It is almost impressive, actually. If she could feel anything other than the crushing, ice cold weight on her shoulders then perhaps she would laugh.

To think that a nameless, faceless man could make her feel such torrential and devastating emotions. Anger and sadness. Longing and desperation. It is unreal the things he makes her feel. Otherworldly things. Impossible, tragic, wonderful things. There is no way that any of it is real. She must be losing her mind. She wishes she was losing her mind. Her chest zaps where the emerald ring hits her sternum, tied to a thin strap of leather around her neck, the ice melting for a fraction of a second. It taps against her skin as her hands meet the marble floor, a gentle reminder that this— he— is real. Gods. A measure of the anger sparks back up and this time she knows that it is entirely her own.

When she was a little girl she used to watch the dust devils in her neighbours corn field. Her father would watch with her sometimes. One of those times he explained what was happening. He told her that wind only spirals like that when the cold air meets the hot air. When that happens— and the temperatures collide— they begin to fight. Imagine them like two rivals, her father had said. The cold air grabs the hot air’s hair. In turn the hot air kicks out at the cold air’s knees. They keep doing that— kicking and shoving and biting and pulling— until finally their limbs are but a blur. That is all a dust devil is, my girl— two rivals fighting. She had not thought to ask him what happens when the cold air and the hot air are not rivals— she had not thought to ask what would happen if the hot air and the cold air were actually lovers. Would the same thing happen? Those little dust devils? Would it be better?

Would it be worse?

Much like most things in her life, she does not know the answer to that. All she knows is that she can feel the air— be them rivals or lovers— punching and kicking, kissing and touching, in her chest and it hurts. All she knows is that if he is real then he better come and get her right now before her body caves to the icy fire tornado that is swirling in her lungs. She is going to implode.

“My dear—” a warm hand lands on her shoulder and it is like magic the way her thoughts are silenced, leaving behind nothing but a harsh ringing in her ears— “are you alright? That was quite the spill you just took.”

Whoever is speaking to her has a voice that is like honey and silk. It wraps around her, soothing every ache in her weary body. The hand rubs a circle into her shoulder, not letting her go, and she begins to thaw, the ice around her eyes and throat and heart melting away in seconds. Not back to the anger— no, that is long gone, a mere thought in the back of her mind— but instead to a new feeling. She is neither ice nor fire— she is springtime. She is warm and calm, her fingers flexing against the marble like small creatures emerging from hibernation. She curls them a few times, relishing in the blood as it returns to her hands and the way it does not feel as though it is burning her. It is not fire, it is just blood.

“Do you think you can get up?” The soft voice is right next to her ear now and she closes her eyes for a moment. It sounds so familiar— so gentle. She never thought she would hear that voice again. “I think maybe we should go to the healers— just in case, my dear.”

She can smell it now— the yeast. The berries. She takes a deep breath in and she can taste the strawberry jam on her lips like she is eight years old again. Her father used to always sneak her an extra pastry after dinner. They would split it on the back porch, their fingers sticky and their laughter twisting into the twilight. Her mother must have known— she was meticulous. She was so aware of the things around her at all times. She was beautiful and kind and made the best jam in the entire realm.

“Mother?” The word slips off her tongue instinctively. Naturally. She cannot stop it because, for a moment, it is as though she is right next to the woman she misses most. It is as though everything is okay again.

Y/n lifts her head— she finally can, her neck is no longer stiff with ice— her eyes landing on a woman with flowing golden hair that twists and curls against her chest. It is not her mother. Her chest squeezes. She knows that it should not— it was never going to be her mother and she knows that— but she cannot help but feel deflated. If there was ever a time for a miracle it would be right now. Preferably a miracle that makes the best strawberry pastries and gives hugs that feel like taking a warm bath. She shakes her head lightly, clearing the thought and the mist that has begun to gather in her eyes. It is not the time for sentimentality.

The woman— the woman who is not her mother— has soft blue eyes— iridescent almost— that bore into her own. There is a ring around her pupils where the blue turns to a darker coal. For a moment it looks like the ring is pulsing. The longer Y/n looks into her eyes the deeper she falls into them. It does not feel as much like drowning as one would think. It is a softer kind of falling— it is as though the woman can see every inch of her soul with a simple look. Her aroma strengthens, changing slightly. The yeast is no longer present— that was only ever her imagination— and now there is a strong, flowery scent. It is strangely intoxicating.

She has to blink a few times, turning away for a taste of fresh air, her gaze falling to the woman’s flowing silk gown. It is a delicate ivory number with beautiful embroidery all over the bust. Little flowers. Perhaps that is where the scent is coming from, wafting off the garden around her collarbone. She really is springtime.

The woman laughs and the flowers sway, moved by a breeze of breath and glee. “Oh my darling, I think you just confirmed my thoughts. Let's get you up, alright? See if we can find someone to take a look at you. Your head must be pounding.”

She is like an oasis in the desert. Y/n has never been to the desert but still— this is what she imagines it would feel like. Gentle and easy, like a cool breeze or a patch of shade. It would feel like the soothing touch of this woman’s hands as she pulls her body from its heap on the ground, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from toppling right over again. Her legs feel unstable and her knees are shaking but everything is okay. But oasis’ are just figments of the imagination— or at least this one is. They are doomed to fizzle away eventually, taking with them the joyful shade and leaving behind the scorching heat.

As the golden woman begins to turn with her, no doubt pulling her in the direction of the supposed healers, there is an ear piercing screech.

“There you are! You were supposed to be following us you dense child.” Estrid is in front of Y/n in seconds, her narrowed eyes locked on her and the familiar, gut wrenching sneer on her scarlet lips. “It is like you never listen on purpose— you just mill about in your own little world. Always about Y/n, never about anyone else.”

The fire from before— the scorching heat— begins bubbling in the pit of her stomach. It splashes like tar, slowly coating her insides in that all consuming hate. She bites her tongue, clenching her jaw. She can still feel the woman’s hand on her shoulder. There is still a piece of the oasis and she clings to it. But even that is being consumed— the touch melting into the lightning in her veins. She is definitely going to explode.

Her step mother takes a step towards her but halts, her eyes darting to the floor where they stay for a long moment. When her neck snaps back up she is positively fuming. “You dropped our things! Why you ungrateful little brat, I—”

In less than the blink of an eye she is no longer looking at her step mother but rather at the back of a blonde head, her hand laced with a hand so soft she would think it an evening glove.

“This young woman has tripped.” The blonde woman’s voice is calm still but holds no more of that gentle tread. Her hand squeezes softly, a contrast to her firm tone. “I will be escorting her to the healers to see what has happened.”

Estrid blinks, her eyes darting away from Y/n and up to the new woman. When she does her entire face goes pale, as though she has seen a ghost. How odd.

“Your Majesty.” Estrid bows her head, her knees bending slightly in a curtsy.

Your Majesty? Y/n’s eyes drift back to the gown— the marvelous ivory silk. It is as though all the little details begin appearing in that moment. The high thread count, the intricate stitching at the waist and bodice, the gemstone bracelet on her dainty wrist. That bracelet alone must be worth more than her entire life. Sapphires and rubies and emeralds. She wears it as though she has no idea how much it is worth— as though she has no idea it is even there at all. She wears it as though she is royalty and she has many more of them in her room.

Oh no— no, no, no.

The blonde woman turns back to her, her crystal eyes softening marginally from what she can only imagine was an icy stare moments ago. “Come on, dear. I will take you to my healer.”

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes wide. Her spine aches as she does. Her mouth feels like it is filled with cotton. She cannot speak but she has to. She has to refuse.

“No, no, your Majesty—” She copies Estrid’s greeting, she does not know what else to call her— “I am alright, truly. I do not wish to burden you further. I will—” She pauses, woozy all of a sudden, the salty breeze ten times stronger— “I will be fine.”

The woman’s crystal eyes narrow but not in the sharp way her step mother’s usually do. “My child, I insist. You do not look well.”

Y/n can practically feel Estrid’s stare burrowing into the side of her face. She can feel the bruises on her back— perhaps purple, perhaps yellow. It does not matter. If she does not go now then they will surely be black in an hour. Less. There it is— there is the fear she had been missing. She wobbles slightly on her feet. The salt air mingles with the pine trees. It is intoxicating— it is deadly. She is going to pass out if she does not move. She shakes her head at the woman, hoping there is something in her eyes that conveys the danger she feels.

“I am alright,” even she can hear the pleading tone in her voice. “Please.”

The woman— the Queen— stares at her for a moment. It is only a few seconds, the coal ring around her pupils pulsing gently, but it feels like days. It feels like a lifetime. She purses her rosy lips, taking a deep breath.

A hand— one much more rough and hot— wraps around her other wrist. “Your Majesty—” Estrid’s nasally voice is high pitched, like she is attempting to hide her cruel intentions— “my daughter just needs to sleep I think. I can take over from here.”

Y/n forces a smile to her lips— one that tastes like metal and blood— like betrayal— hoping it is enough to convince the queen. She adds a little nod in there for good measure. It is all about appearances. For a moment she thinks it is actually going to work. The Queen’s shoulders sag gently, her chin dipping down in a partial nod. It is actually working— maybe she will not get punished too harshly. She will pick up the bags and hurry to their room and stay as silent as a mouse and everything will be fine. Right?

Estrid squeezes her wrist harder— enough to make her bones whine in pain— and she can feel the on her face grin falter. It is for only a fraction of a second, the corner of her lips peeling down in a grimace that she cannot suppress, but it is enough. By the time she has painted the fake smile back on her face the Queen is at her side, that silky hand curling around her shoulder, gentle but firm enough to pull her away from her step mother. Y/n does not know if she would rather thank her or cry.

“I am afraid I truly must insist. As a Queen—” She stresses the word, her title. This is no longer a suggestion; it is an order— “it is my duty to ensure that all my guests are properly taken care of. It will not take long; just a quick check up.”

The Queen’s hand ushers her a couple steps down the hallway. Estrid follows, her brows pulled together dramatically. “But your Highness, I—”

The Queen holds up her hand, an elegant and dangerous gesture, her kind face cracking under the weight of her furious eyes. She does not even try to conceal the rage swimming in the crystal pools. She does not have to— she will face no repercussion for her anger.

“But nothing. She is to go with me and that is final.” Her burning crystals glance down to the bags, all of which are still spilling over onto the marble, draping the stone with bits of lace and silk, none of which look nearly as exquisite as the Queen’s gown. “I will send someone to gather your belongings and return them to your chambers. Now, if you will kindly excuse us.”

With that she is spinning, pressing her hand gently against Y/n’s back and leading her back in the direction she had come from. She can feel Estrid’s glare on her neck, burning holes in the back of her head. If stares were able to kill then she would be laying in a heap on the marble again, she just knows it. Soon, though, they turn a corner and she can no longer feel her step mother’s lethal gaze. That does not stop her heart from racing so hard that she wonders if it will jump out of her chest. It does not stop the vomit from pooling in her throat. She should feel relieved—grateful— but all she can think about is the pain. Both the pain she is in now and the pain she will be in later.

“It was okay really,” she mutters. It is a last ditch effort, one that is destined to fail before it is even out of her mouth, but she has to try anyway. “I am okay. I think I just slipped.”

She did not slip— she lost it. She does not know quite what it is but she knows whatever it is has been lost. Her sanity. Her grip on reality. Her damn mind. Any and all of them, now gone.

The queen stops, turning her bright blue eyes on her once more. She sighs, her smile understanding. “I think if you had slipped then you would have gotten back up.”

The Queen’s tone is pitying, her fingers gentle on her hand, and Y/n drops her eyes to the ground. She resents it— all of it. She does not want pity. “I needed a moment is all.”

A hand presses under her chin, bringing her gaze back up. There is no more smile on the Queen’s face— only a firmness in her eyes. She does not look so much like a Queen here; she looks like a mother. Her mother. She can see some of her own mother in the faint lines near her eyes and the cupid's bow above her rose petal lips. She has to bite down to keep the ache from her throat at bay.

“That was not a moment, my dear. I was there. That was quite a few moments. You were ready to let those girls trample you, were you not?”

“I— I just—” she swallows hard, trying to make her words work. It seems like she cannot string a sentence together for the life of her. Like her entire vocabulary has vanished— “I needed a moment, your Majesty. That is all.” All she can do is repeat herself.

The Queen narrows her eyes, her thumb smoothing over her jaw before she finally releases her. “Frigga.”

Y/n’s heart stutters and she has to cover her cough from the way all the air whooshes out of her lungs. “Pardon me, your Majesty?”

“Please, call me Frigga.”

This time her heart does not just stutter; it stops completely. She presses a hand against her chest, taking a tiny step backwards. She cannot breathe again. The smile on the Queen’s— Frigga’s— face is too kind. Too gentle. Too much. This is not a trick, she is not trying to get her in trouble. She is not telling her to shut up or to hurry up or to grow up. She is just being kind. No one is kind to her. Not even when they want something from her. What could the Que— Frigga, Y/n, her name is Frigga— possibly want from her? What could she give her that would mean anything more than what she already has? She sucks in a breath, sounding quite like a dying animal in the middle of the thankfully empty corridor. It is too much— it is all too much.

“No, I could not. You Maj—”

Frigga grabs her hand again, her warm skin stilling her own, clammy hands. “Calm child. It is alright. You are alright” Her words are slow, her tone a low murmur. It works wonders on her nerves. It is magic. “Frigga. Please, nobody here calls me anything formal. You should hear my sons.” The side of her mouth quirks up, her tone becoming teasing, “mother, where is father? That is all anyone around here says to me. I am not used to such formalities. I would prefer Frigga, my dear.”

Y/n takes another breath, nodding her head.

“Y/n—” she whispers back, not sure what else to do besides introduce herself back— “my name is Y/n.”

Frigga’s smile grows, nodding as well. She makes it feel like this is a normal exchange— like they are just two new friends meeting for the first time. “That is a lovely name.”

The Queen turns after that, pulling her once more to continue walking down the grand hallway. They move in silence, Frigga no doubt trying to give her some room to breathe. It is surprisingly easy to just be there with her. It is serene. She stares out past the pillars as they walk, her eyes dipping back to the faraway shoreline. Now the water is sparkling in the high afternoon sun, the cresting waves catching the light and bouncing it back and forth amongst each other. It is as though each wave that passes winks at her before smoothing against the sand. She cannot tell if they are saying hello or goodbye. Perhaps neither. Perhaps they are just acknowledging that she is there. She bows her chin gently, acknowledging them as well.

She does not know how long they walk for, her attention too focused on the blinking shore, but soon Frigga is pulling open a heavy wooden door— one that has the most intricate carvings on it’s frame that Y/n longs to stare at in depth—and tugging her in behind her. She has no idea what she is expecting— maybe a herb closet and a long table for practicing healing— it is a healer’s closet after all— but whatever it is, what she sees is not it. She is not expecting the most exquisite room in all of existence.

The first thing her eyes fall to is a wonderfully large pool of water sitting in the middle of the room. It must be the size of her entire bedroom, which granted is not that large but in comparison to her own tiny tin basin at home this is pure luxury. The sides of the pool are golden and tiled with colorful gemstones. She cannot even name all them, not recognizing half of the stones. They catch the light pouring in from the expansive balcony, sparkling against each other. There are steps leading up the side, promising entry into the luscious looking water. Altogether it is hypnotizing, calling her name until she is taking a few stuttered steps towards it. As she gets closer she can smell the fragrant oils, much more rich than anything she is used to.

“Oh my.”

“It is quite something, I will admit.” Frigga laughs from behind her, meeting her next to the edge of the tub. She dips her hand into the water, submerging the expensive bracelet in the water without a care. “It was a present from Odin for our first anniversary. I was just as shocked. I did not leave this room for weeks. I even slept here, can you imagine that?”

“I think I would as well, if I were you. It is stunning.” She, too, dips her hand below the water. She almost gasps at how warm it is— at how soft the water is. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Frigga pulls her hand from the water, shaking the droplets lightly from her skin. She turns back to Y/n, her crystal eyes sparkling with joy. “Perhaps later— only if you would like, of course— you could try it.”

Her mouth falls open, her own hand, still swirling through the silky water, pausing. “Oh no, your Maj—” Frigga purses her lips, her eyes crinkling gleefully— “Frigga, I could not.”

The Queen laughs again and she can hear the way her own mother used to giggle. “Of course you can my dear. In fact, you must! But first let us eat.”

Y/n’s brows pull together— what about the healers? Is that not why she is here?

Frigga must notice her confusion because she lifts her hand to her face, the Queen’s fingers now scented like rose petals. “I have found that the best medicine is a full belly, would you not agree?”

Instantly the tears well up in her eyes again. They are not from sadness this time— nor from longing— instead they are from the relief she feels coursing through her body. It is so foreign that she does not recognize it at first. It is neither hot nor cold. There is no pressure on her chest alerting her to it. In fact there is nothing. She feels nothing. It is exhilarating.

She does not notice the first tear fall until Frigga’s thumb catches it. “Thank you.”

The Queen sighs, her smile faltering. It is still there but barely. “Come, child.”

Y/n follows Frigga to the balcony, passing under some gem coloured curtains and into the warm sunlight. She almost freezes in her tracks, the memory of the last time her back was in the sun still fresh on her mind. Her mind falls back to the man, her nose filling with salt and pine which leaks in from the gardens below. She can feel his hands on her back, crawling over her hips. She does not wonder what color her back is this time— be it purple or yellow or molten red— it does not matter anymore. For some reason the thought of him makes it not matter anymore. He makes it better.

Frigga turns on her heel, her eyes lighting up, her hands shooting out to grasp Y/n’s shoulders. It is all she can do not to reel back from the suddenness of the action, wobbling slightly but smiling. She, in turn, reaches for the Queen’s hands, steadying herself on her silken skin.

“I completely forgot my dear, I told my son to meet me here for afternoon tea. You do not mind, do you?”

Y/n’s breath catches in her throat, her memories surging again. She can taste him on her lips for a brief moment. A short, silly moment. She pushes him down, shaking her head lightly to clear her thoughts. That would be impossible.

“No, of course not this is your home.”

Frigga squeezes her shoulders. “Wonderful!”

As the blonde woman releases her, moving to sit in one of the golden chairs on the balcony, there is a voice that sounds from the door. It is deep, impossibly so, and sends shivers racing down her spine.

“Mother, are you in here?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tag list: @crystal-siren

#loki laufeyson #loki #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #Loki laufeyson x y/n #loki fic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fic #loki laufeyson imagine #mcu #mcu fic #mcu imagine

96 notes · View notes

wayward-dreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Life’s Lessons - Part 5

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Not Giving In (Almost)

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned)

Word Count: 7,508 (thoughts, song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: Y/N gets her car back, bringing stability back to her routine. As Friday night rolls around, Dean’s plans with Lisa get derailed as she goes out with her friends. Dean asks Y/N over, resulting in a night of laughs, stories of the past, and something between them that they can’t keep denying.

Warnings: Swearing, Talk of past family issues, Mention of reader’s ex, Talk of mental abuse, Neglect, Insecurities, Alcohol Consumption, Dean being cute (yes, that’s a warning), Flirting, Forbidden feelings, Moment of weakness (you’ll see what I mean, I don’t want to spoil it)

Music: Renegade by Styx (Dean cooking scene), What Is and What Should Never Be by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N end scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone for all the love towards this series! It’s been amazing to hear all of your thoughts! We’re really getting into it now, and I just hope you’ll enjoy the journey of these characters. I can’t wait to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life's Lessons Masterlist

The next couple of days flew by, and before she knew it, it was Wednesday. Y/N was happy to be getting her car back, her life becoming easier again, especially with school. Her classes had been keeping her busy, grading tests and making sure the homework was done. All of her students but a couple were doing well, and she knew she would have to talk to the parents as she soon as they had time to meet. Things remained awkward with Ben, who would never really say much, except for a few sentences each class.

She knew it was hard with her being his teacher and living across the street but given the size of this town it was hard not to see people constantly. The only thing that could be done and what she had been practicing, was not talking about him or to him outside of a school setting.

Cas had brought Y/N into the garage again, once classes were over on Wednesday. Though this time he couldn’t stay, wanting to meet Meg before she started her shift at the hospital. Y/N walked in and was greeted by the receptionist this time, an elder woman.

“Hi, I’m Ellen, what can I help you with?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up my car. I’m Y/N Y/L/N” she told the woman. She had a pleasant demeanor, but Y/N had the feeling she could really get mad of you pissed her off.

“Oh, so you’re Y/N!” she beamed. “Dean’s been talkin’ about ya non-stop. Just making sure he does everything right and on time.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. “Well, that’s nice of him.” Dean had been talking about her to his friends and co-workers? She suddenly felt a little strange to be the centre of attention.

Just as Ellen was about to speak, the door to the men’s room in the reception area opened, and Benny walked out, this time without any car grease on him. He was looking sharp as he was a little dressed up.

“Hey, cher” he smiled, as he enveloped in a hug. She liked him and it was easy to see why he and Dean got along. Benny was mild mannered despite his intimidating build, and he clearly loved the work as much as his green-eyed friend.

“Hey, Benny. You clean up well” she complemented him, taking in his crisp white shirt and black pants.

“Thanks, darlin’. My girlfriend, Andrea’s coming back from visiting family in Greece, so I’m headed to the airport” he told her, a big smile on his bearded face.

“Oh, wow!” she gasped. “That would’ve been amazing!”

“Yeah, she had a great time. I can’t wait to see her” Benny smiled, giddily. “Dean’s just bringing your car around.”

“Great” she breathed out. “Well, have a wonderful time with Andrea.”

“I will, and you know when things are more settled for ya, you should come over for dinner” Benny said, genuinely.

“I’d love that” she smiled.

“Take care, cher” he said, as he winked and walked away.

“Bye, Benny” she called out as she watched him leave through the front door.

Y/N watched through the windows as Benny waited to the side, as her car pulled up. She smiled as she watched Dean get out, wearing his aviators and blue and black plaid. Was there ever a time he wouldn’t look so damn breathtaking? The man was a walking sculpture. She watched as Benny walked off to his car, and Dean walked towards the front door. She smiled at him as he saw her and smirked, opened the door and took off his sunglasses. She looked amazing in her maroon A-line skirt and white top, with a fawn coat. Dean couldn’t help but admire her. She could wear a paper bag and still look stunning.

“Hey” he said, with the widest grin on his face. “Come on.”

He held out his hand and without a second thought, she clasped it with hers. Both of them had the same thought of how perfectly their hands fit together, but quickly pushed it aside. He led her outside and over to her car.

“Here she is” he said, dropping her hand, much to Y/N’s dismay. “Get in and turn the car on.” He tossed her the keys which she caught perfectly.

Y/N quickly got in the front seat and smiled, half excited and half nervous. She dropped her bag in the passenger seat, turned the key in the ignition, and heard it turn on. This time without any hideous sounds.

“Woooo!” he cheered with a laugh.

She laughed as she shook her head. He was crazy, but she loved how much he loved his work. She turned the car back off just as he came around to her side. She got out and automatically wrapped her arms around his neck, in a hug. He pulled her close, his arms around her waist, as he swayed them side to side. He chuckled, the rumble in his chest vibrating through her.

“Thank you so, so much, Dean” she whispered.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart” he whispered back.

The hug lasted a little longer than they had intended, and she quickly pulled away before they could overthink the gesture.

“I got to get home” she said, not really wanting to leave but knowing she had to.

“Yeah” he nodded, trying not to sound disappointed. “Come and find me if something happens, again, but you’re definitely good to go.”

“I’m sure I won’t have to” she said, as she sat back in her seat. Dean closed the door for her but leaned into the open window.

“See you around, sweetheart” he winked.

“Bye” she muttered, trying not to look flustered by his charm. Cut it out, woman! She scolded herself as she pulled out of the garage parking, and turned her car in the direction of home.

Friday night quickly around again. Ben was staying at a friend’s house, which gave Dean the perfect opportunity to cook dinner for Lisa. With Styx Renegade playing on the record player and the sauce for the lasanga simmering on the stove, he started mixing ingredients for dessert as the front door opened. Lisa walked in from having dropped Ben off and eyed him incredulously.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, leaning into the kitchen island.

“With the kid away for the night, I thought this was a good night to stay in and cook” he smirked, genuinely. “Have some alone time.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m going out with the girls.”

He frowned, trying not to roll his eyes. “Can’t you go out with them some other time? I mean, you’re always out with them. I thought we could have a night to ourselves for once.”

“They’re my friends, Dean” she chastised him. “I don’t stop you from going out with your friends.”

She walked down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

An hour later, Lisa left the house with a slam of the door. Dean made up the lasanga and put it in the oven, but what was the point of eating it by himself? Now he didn’t even feel like eating it, wanting to order in pizza instead and threw back a few beers. As he started to dial the pizza place, he stopped. He looked up and out of the window in the kitchen. He smiled as an idea came to him.

Y/N was thankful for this Friday night to herself. She was going to call Katie and then watch a couple episodes of The Walking Dead which she had recorded, and get a pizza delivered. She made plans for Saturday to go watch a movie and have lunch with Charlie. She had asked for Meg’s number from Cas to invite her, but she was unfortunately working at the hospital. She promised to come to whatever the next thing would be, though, and Y/N was excited to meet her soon enough.

Just as she was about to sit down and call Katie, the doorbell rang a few times. Y/N frowned, wondering who could ring so urgently and hurried to the door. She swung it open and smiled as she saw Dean on the other side, looking flustered. The dark green shirt he was wearing was crumpled, and there was red and white checked dish cloth on his shoulder, which he probably hadn’t noticed.

“Please tell me you’re not doing anything tonight” he said, quickly, his hands rubbing over each other, nervously.

“Uh, no. I mean, I had a date with my DVR, but that’s about it” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay, well… if you want, I’d love to have you over to dinner. Ben’s at a friend’s for the night, Lisa couldn’t cancel her plans with friends when I asked her to stay for dinner, and I don’t want it to go to waste” he told her, a hopeful look on his face.

She smiled, not even thinking twice about it. “I’d love to.”

He pumped his fist, as he smiled wide. “You’re the best. Okay. In half an hour?”

“Absolutely” she nodded, his smile infectious as she found herself smiling too.

“Ah! Thank you!” he shouted happily, as he quickly leaned in and pecked her cheek. “See you soon!”

He quickly ran off back to his house, clearly not realizing what he just did.

Y/N shut the door, not being able to stop herself from smiling. She was trying to tread lightly but it was too hard. When he kept being the amazing human that he was, how could she? She knew she needed to call Katie as she got ready to go over there. She would set her straight.

She walked into her bedroom and opened up her closet, trying to figure what to wear. Considering the weather was starting to turn, a sweater and jeans would be most appropriate. She tossed the clothes on the bed and then stripped off, walking into her bathroom. She wanted to freshen up quickly after a long day at work. As she turned the shower on and then stepped in, she clipped her hair up to save it from the water. As she moved her body under the water, her mind wandered to Dean. She hated the idea of him trying to work things out with Lisa and her leaving him hanging. Did she care about him at all? Why stick around in a relationship that isn’t going anywhere? Did they even have their good days anymore? Having been in a bad relationship herself, she knew what it could do to your mind, and she hated to think that Dean was going through something awful by being in relationship that absolutely was not going anywhere.

She quickly lathered up, her mind still on Dean. These feelings of attraction weren’t new to her, but this was the first time they had been so intense. His face was somehow rugged and yet beautiful, his body was hard but his touch soft. Her eyes closed as her mind continued to wander, her hand moving down between her thighs. She rubbed her hand over her mound, the water cascading down on her only serving to make her wetter than she already was. Before she could continue, however, her mind quickly snapped out of the images of him. She moved her hand away, feeling guilty that she did what she did, but glad that she stopped before she went any further.

She turned off the shower and stepped out, wiping down. She quickly got dressed into what she was going to wear for dinner, and then dialled Katie’s number. She picked up on the second ring, her cheery voice on loudspeaker.

“Hey!”

“Hey, how are you?” she asked her friend.

“I’m great, but… you don’t sound so good” Katie replied, her voice full of concern for Y/N.

“Well, I’m about to head over to Dean’s for dinner. Just me and him” Y/N said, sighing.

“And you’re broken up about it because he’s still with his girlfriend? Right?” Katie asked, accurately assisting the situation.

“Bingo” Y/N replied.

She heard Katie breathe out deeply. “Y/N.”

“In my defence, he asked me because his girlfriend couldn’t cancel her plans with friends, and he didn’t want dinner to go to waste. I couldn’t say no” Y/N quickly explained.

There was a pause in conversation; Y/N knew that Katie was thinking.

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with going over there, as a friend and having a good time” Katie reassured her. “Just… be careful.”

I will” Y/N nodded. She glanced at the clock and saw that she should leave. “I should go.”

“Okay, keep me posted” Katie said.

“I will. Sorry we couldn’t talk for longer” Y/N apologized.

“It’s okay, we can make up for it soon” Katie said, simply.

“Definitely” Y/N agreed.

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Y/N quickly fixed her hair into more of a natural look, sweeping it off to the side. She put on her chocolate brown knee high heeled boots, sprayed some perfume on, and picked her phone as she left the house.

Y/N walked across the street, fidgeting with the neckline of her black sweater. She kept trying to pull it up over her shoulders, but the sleeves kept slipping down to rest almost off-shoulder. There was no point battling with it to do something it clearly couldn’t, so she left the neckline alone. Her Y/H/C hair was resting over shoulder, exposing the other. She had a split second of realizing that maybe she shouldn’t have worn it like that or the sweater, but it was too late now.

She walked up the porch steps and rang the doorbell. She was nervous to be alone with him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little excited too. It was alone time with Dean, and as much as she wanted it to be more, it was just two friends having dinner together. That’s it. It couldn’t be more. She wouldn’t let it be more. She waited patiently, but a breath caught in her throat when the door opened.

Dean had changed for dinner and was standing there in a dark grey Henley and dark blue jeans, looking like a freaking model. Dear god, give me strength she thought as she smiled at him, admiring the way the Henley clung to his muscles.

“Hey, come on in” he smiled, letting her into the house.

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She smiled as her chin rested on his shoulder, and suddenly missed the closeness when he moved away.

As she walked in, Dean made quick work of checking her out. The black sweater she was wearing exposed her shoulders and collarbone, as her hair was styled in a simple yet perfect way. She was freaking stunning and he was regretting calling her over here.

Just keep it friendly and it’ll be good he told himself as he closed the door and walked into the kitchen.

“So, what can I get you drink?” he asked, as she followed him into the kitchen. “We got beer, wine, whiskey, a whole bunch of other spirits.”

She walked over to one of the high stools at the kitchen island, her heeled boots echoing through the house as they hit the hardwood floor and sat across from where he was standing.

“Wine would be great” she said, as she placed her phone in front of her on the counter, as she swayed a little to Zeppelin playing softly from the record player.

“Red or white?” he asked.

“Whatever’s going to go with dinner” she replied, with a small laugh.

“Red it is” he drummed his hands on the surface and then walked over to the other side of the kitchen, opening the glasses cabinet. He took out two wine glasses and selected a bottle from the wine rack on the bar he had next to the kitchen, before he walked back to his original spot.

“I didn’t take you for a wine guy” she teased, as she watched him pour a decent amount into each glass.

“I am when the occasion calls for it, and this definitely does” he said, as he passed one glass to her. He lifted his up in a toast and she did the same.

“To new friendships?” she suggested.

He smiled, nodding. “Absolutely.”

They clinked their glasses together and then both took a sip. She hummed as the liquid slipped down her throat.

“That’s amazing” she commented as she looked down at her glass.

“Yeah” he agreed as he picked up the bottle. “It’s pretty damn good and I’m not even much of a wine drinker.”

“So, how was work?” she asked, as she took another sip of wine.

His eyes lit up instantly. “Oh my god, today was freaking amazing! This guy brought in a beat up ’69 Camaro and wants us to restore it from the ground up!”

Her jaw dropped, just as excited as him now. “Oh my god, Dean! That’s incredible!”

He shook his head, his head still reeling. “I know, I swear as soon as he brought it into the back, me and Benny were losing our minds.”

“Wow” she laughed happily.

“It’s pretty much everything; new engine-” he started but suddenly stopped, clearing his throat. “Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear this.”

She frowned, confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. “No, I do. Please, Dean, continue.”

“Oh, okay” he looked relieved as he went on. “So, yeah… new engine, tires, upholstery, paint job, the whole works.”

“That’s so awesome” she grinned.

“Yeah, and the guy’s pretty fucking loaded, too. So, he’s not sparing any expense. Paid in advance for everything” he told her, the smile never leaving his face.

“Dean” she sighed, her heart soaring. “This is seriously amazing. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Y/N” he half smiled, a twinge of sadness behind it. “I called and told Lisa as soon as he left. She said she was happy for me, but I know she’s not into this sorta thing, so…” he laughed it off, but Y/N knew he was hurting.

“Well, I don’t think you have to be in order to be happy for someone. I don’t know a damn thing about cars, but I’m really happy for you” she told him, sincerely.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right” he said, as he took a sip of wine. “I haven’t even told her about all my thoughts for expanding, either, because I know it’s not something she’s be interested in.”

“Expanding?” she asked, curiously.

“Yeah, I mean… we’ve had restoration jobs in the past, none as big as this one, but we’ve had a few. Every time we do, I keep thinking about opening another branch of the shop, specifically for restoration on classics, across town. Benny could run things here, while I’m at the new place for a while, and then we could just keep rotating between all of us at the shop. Maybe even hire a few more guys” he explained, a small grin on his face as he did.

“Dean… I think that’s brilliant. Not to mention incredibly different. That could really put you on the map” she complemented his plan, loving the idea instantly.

“Yeah” he nodded. “We’re flying already, and I’m really happy with where we are, but I know that we’d be unstoppable if that happened. You know?”

Y/N smiled; she loved seeing how ambitious he was. She couldn’t help but feel bad that he probably hadn’t shared this with anyone, except for maybe Benny.

“So, what about you? How’s work?” he asked, changing the subject to her.

“It’s good. I feel like I’m finally settled into the job, it happened quicker than I thought it would. I feel like Cas and Charlie had something to do with that. They’ve been so supportive of me” she replied, slowly turning her glass by the stem.

“Yeah, they’re awesome” Dean chuckled, incredibly matter of fact.

“We’re moving into teaching To Kill A Mockingbird next week, which I’m excited about” she smiled; it was one of her favorites.

“Man, I wish I had teachers as excited as you about school. Maybe I would’ve enjoyed it too” he laughed as he recalled his school days.

“Not a school guy, Dean?” she teased.

“God, no. I mean, I graduated, but that’s about it. I just didn’t have it in me like Sammy did, you know?” he said, truthfully.

“Well…” she said, as she laid her hand on his. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. What you do matters, too. Not everyone can have the skills you have.”

Dean had the sudden realization that her hand felt incredible in his and he never wanted her to let go. She really cared about him and what he did, and that made his heart beat just a bit faster, knowing that.

“So, no hare-brained ideas like me?” he chuckled, but his self-deprecating humor wasn’t lost on her.

“Well, firstly, your idea isn’t hare-brained” she quickly chastised him for the way he was thinking. “And secondly, no big plans other than eventually moving into high school. Teaching Literature; that’s where I want to be.”

He nodded, all while trying to keep his naughty teacher fantasies at bay. “That’s great.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong I do enjoy teaching the younger kids, but they’re a handful. Having more of chance to teach the stuff I really love in high school… it would be amazing” she said, her eyes dreamy and hopeful.

“Well, I hope you get there. Those kids are gonna have one badass teacher” he smirked as he complemented her.

“Thanks” she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I hope so, too. I’m dying to get the chance to teach my favorites; especially Jane Eyre.”

“That had something about a fire, right?” he asked, trying to recall if he knew anything about that book.

“Yeah. I absolutely love it” she sighed.

“Hey, what do you know, I know something” he laughed.

She shook her head, smiling as she gestured to the bookshelves in the living room. “Seems like you know plenty.”

“Those are mostly Lisa’s” he waved her off.

“Really?” she asked, an eyebrow raised. She hopped off the stool at the kitchen island and walked over to the shelves. She scanned them quickly, and took out a book, holding it up to him. It was Slaughterhouse Five. “Somehow I don’t think Lisa’s a Vonnegut fan.”

“I guess not” he said, as he walked over, slowly.

“Or Dracula” she said, picking that one up after putting away the other.

“Yeah, I… um, I like the sci-fi, and horror stuff” he shrugged.

“I do too” she smiled.

He returned it, finding their conversation so easy it scared him. It shouldn’t have been that simple with someone he couldn’t be with.

“Food shouldn’t be too hot now” he said, breaking the moment between them. “Let’s eat.”

Dean walked back into the kitchen and picked up the dish that was cooling down from the corner near the stove. He brought it over to the table and sat down at the head of the table, just as Y/N brought her wine glass and Dean’s over. She sat down at the corner where the place setting was as he lifted the lid off the dish. The smell was absolutely divine as it reached her nose. Dean cut into the lasagna and placed the piece on her plate with a slice of garlic bread and some salad. She smiled as he passed it to her and took out his own serving, minus the salad. She had to laugh.

“Alright, go ahead and give me the verdict” he said, wanting her to eat first.

She dug in and took a forkful, bringing it to her mouth. As she chewed, her eyes closed, a smile gracing her face.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “That… is incredible.”

“Glad to hear to that” he smirked as he dug in.

“So…” she swallowed her mouthful before continuing. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“My mom, as cliché as that sounds. She didn’t want me eating take-out all the time when I moved out years ago, so she taught me a few things” he told her.

She nodded, smiling. She couldn’t help but think about how she found guys who cooked incredibly sexy.

“Are you and your mom close?” she asked.

“Yeah, we are. I was the one who was there for her when she and dad had a big fight. We started to talk more often after that” he replied, taking another bite.

“What happened?” she asked, softly. “If you don’t mind me asking…”

If it was anyone else, he probably would’ve shot the question down, but he was comfortable around Y/N. He felt like he could tell her things and she wouldn’t judge anyone. Even Lisa barely knew anything about his family.

“I was around 23, 24 and working with dad full-time by then. Sammy was at college. Things weren’t going great with the business; we were losing money and he was getting really stressed. He was forgetting things, just trying to provide and he forgot their anniversary. She got really upset and found out just how bad things were. There was a lot of yelling, she cried a lot. One night, he just left. He came back after a month, apologized a lot to her, and she forgave him. He was really different when he came back; a better version of himself. Things have been really good ever since” he explained, that memory still hard to think about.

“Do you guys know where he went?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, he went to a family friend in South Dakota. He helped turn things around for the business too, he’s a mechanic as well” Dean replied, smiling as he thought about his “uncle”. “Dad told me later he was just ashamed and didn’t know how to face her after what happened. He felt like he couldn’t provide for her, that she deserved better. He’s always felt like he didn’t deserve her, and she’s always felt like he’s exactly the person she was meant to be with.”

“I’m glad everything worked out” she smiled but frowned when something occurred to her. “Did he ever apologize to you?”

“He didn’t need to, I understood what happened and I never judged him for it” he shrugged.

“Well, that maybe so, but it put a pressure on you that you didn’t need” she said, understanding the situation completely. “I’m just saying, it’s never too late for that conversation.”

A silence fell as Dean thought about what she just said. About how she just understood, so instantly, so clearly. He cleared his throat as he continued to eat, his mind flooded with a million thoughts about her.

“You know a lot about my family, so I gotta know something about yours now” he said, wagging his eyebrows as he looked at her.

She laughed as she racked her brain for something interesting. “I wish I had some interesting stories, but I don’t.”

“Well, who are you closer with?” he asked.

She chewed quickly as she put her fork down. “Dad. I mean, I love my mom and we get a long great, but she can be a little too assertive sometimes. Whereas, my dad always knew how to get her to calm down and let me take the reins when I needed to. He always let me make my own choices, and if I ever made a decision that didn’t turn out well, he’d tell me that it was okay. It was a learning curve and that I would do it differently next time.”

Dean nodded, approvingly. “Smart.”

“Yeah” she smiled sadly, her heart longing for her family. “I miss them.”

“That’s another thing I gotta ask…” Dean started as she looked at him. “You’ve said you’re close with them since I first met you, so… why did you move so far away from them?”

There it was. The question she had been dreading. Yes, she had already told Charlie but that came up organically, through their conversation at the bar. Telling him was different.

Dean sensed a shift in Y/N and knew something was wrong. Her hands closed up, she avoided looking at him as she stared down at her plate and looked like she was shaking. He had never seen her like this, and he was scared that he had really upset her.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I just… don’t know how to tell you” she replied, as she picked up her glass and took a big gulp of wine.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s totally fine. I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have brought it up” he apologized but she shook her head, causing him to stop.

“No, you’re not. It’s okay” she said, quietly. “I want to tell you. You’ve told me so much about your life, it’s only right I tell you about mine. Plus, I’ve talked about it with Charlie, so I’ll be okay.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to just because Charlie-” he said but she cut him off again.

“It’s okay, Dean. Really” she let one side of her mouth turn up, letting him know it was fine.

When Dean just looked at her intently and didn’t say anything, she decided that for now she’d tell him what she could. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did. Completely. She just needed to hold some of it back for now. She told Charlie everything because somehow it was easier to open up to her. Dean was someone she was starting to have genuine feelings for, even though she shouldn’t be. As much as she wanted to open her whole heart to him, he wasn’t hers to do that.

Y/N cleared her throat from the roughness that built up because of the alcohol and her emotions already affecting her.

“I was in a relationship for a year and a half. His name was Ethan. He was a friend of a friend and we met at that friend’s birthday party. He was charming and funny, a little arrogant but I didn’t think much of it at the start. We started dating and he generous, but it didn’t last long. He was incredibly controlling, telling what I should or shouldn’t do. Everyone would tell me that wasn’t normal, and deep down I knew that, but he was just so convincing that I thought that he was trying to make me better” she told him, her voice shaking.

Dean continued to look at her, slipping his hand over hers. Y/N felt the heat of his hand on hers as she turned hers, locking them together.

“It took a night of a lot yelling, of finally realizing what kind of a man he was, to make me finally leave him.” She shook her head, closing her eyes as the waves of the past began to flood in.

She felt Dean’s hand squeeze hers, reassuring her that she was okay. That she wasn’t in that place anymore. It was a year later, but the effects of what Ethan had said, what he had done, still lingered, still held onto the rope that was nearly broken. Most of the strands were frayed and lost, but the last strands still needed to be torn.

Y/N opened her eyes and looked at Dean. She saw his eyes, sad but fiery, as he shook his head. She had probably scared him off and she didn’t blame him, honestly.

“Y/N, you’re… you’re the strongest person I know.” Dean gripped her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. “You’re amazing. Beautiful. I-, fuck I wanna hurt him for what he did to you.”

Y/N huffed as what she was feeling got the better of her. “Fortunately, he’s far enough away that you don’t have to.”

“Is your family safe with him around?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, they are” she nodded, wiping under her eyes. “He uh… he was around for a while, I’d see him a lot, but he eventually moved out to L.A. with his girlfriend.”

“Good riddance” he grumbled, under his breath.

“I knew he was gone but still being there… it just became too much. I was in therapy for a year just trying work through everything. When I saw this job come up, I jumped on it straight away. I miss everyone back home, but I knew I had to leave” she explained, blinking a few times to keep the tears at bay. “There’s a lot more to it, but… I just…”

Dean shook his head as he leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. “You don’t have to tell me more, Y/N.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she looked at him. “Thank you. For listening. It’s not everything but I wanted to tell you.”

“Well, thank you for telling me what you could. I can’t imagine how hard that was.” He gave her a soft smile, as he looked down at their hands. Still joined together.

“It was, but…” she contemplated whether she should say what she was about to, but it was the truth and she wanted him to know. “I trust you.”

Dean nodded, realizing that it meant a lot for her to do that. The fact that he had earned her trust in a short amount of time was something he wasn’t expecting. Now that he had it though, he made a promise then and there to himself that he would never let her doubt him.

“I trust you, too” he spoke softly, but he smiled when he saw the corners of her mouth turn up and he knew that she had heard him.

Y/N was glad to know that she had Dean’s trust too. It took a lot for a person to tell someone about their family issues, and the fact that he did just meant that he was comfortable around her. She was grateful for that and if he felt like that with her, then she certainly did with him, allowing her to tell him about her past. Even if there still a bit more to the story.

The conversation turned lighter after that. They discretely unclasped their hands from each other, as they continued to eat. They both hid the fact that they missed the feeling. They asked each other about their favorite things, the conversation moving quickly between movies, books and music. They both decided that Zeppelin was the shit, and no one could tell them otherwise. Dean quickly got up and changed the record to another Zeppelin album, and sat back down.

“Okay, don’t judge me” she said, looking sheepish as she pointed to the record player. “I still don’t have this album.”

“What?” he asked as he leaned forward, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

“No, unfortunately. I’m pretty sure dad just never got around to buying it, ever” she told him, frowning.

“Well, we gotta change that soon” he shook his head but with a small smile.

Y/N sat back in her chair; her plate now empty. That had been one of the best meals she had had a long time.

“Damn, that was incredible” she said. “Thank you.”

Dean smirked as he started clearing the plates and cutlery. “No problem, sweetheart. I’m glad it wasn’t failure.”

“Somehow I don’t think you could fail at this” she laughed slightly, as she stood up and helped him.

“Hey, I got this” he groaned as he nudged her, silently telling her to stop helping him.

“No way, you’re getting help whether you want it or not” she said, as she followed him into the kitchen.

He started washing up as she grabbed a cloth and started wiping whatever he washed.

“That was my job when me and Sam would clear up” he gestured to her, as she stood there with the towel.

“Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You weren’t the one washing?”

“Nope, Sammy didn’t trust me not to splash him” he laughed.

She joined in. “Brothers.”

“Eh, I’ve done worse” he shrugged, passing her a plate.

“Like what?” she wondered.

“Let’s see…” a wicked grin graced his face. “Itching powder in his boxers, Nair in his shampoo…”

She let out a loud screech. “Oh my god, no!”

“Yeah, I got into a lot of trouble for that one” he laughed, sheepishly.

“Good” she said, playfully elbowing him, but a little hard.

“Ow!” he moaned as he laughed. He turned the water off and wiped his hands on another cloth.

“Did you and your sister ever prank each other?” he asked.

“Uh, less purposely pranking and more just getting each other back for something” she recalled. “She’s older so she always felt like she deserved the most time in the bathroom. She spat in my hair while we were brushing our teeth and I bent down before her. So… I shaved off one of her eyebrows while she was sleeping.”

Dean threw his head and laughed loudly. “Wow, didn’t expect that, Y/L/N.”

She laughed as she wiped down the last of the cutlery. “Luckily, we grew out of all of that pretty quick.”

Dean smiled. She always wore a far off look on her face when she talked about her family. It must’ve been hard to not see them every day. He couldn’t imagine doing that. He went over to the oven and opened it, taking out a tray with two white ramekins. Y/N gasped as she walked over.

“You… you made chocolate molten cakes?” she asked, staring at them before looking up at him, wide eyed.

“Yeah” he said, nonchalantly. “There wasn’t enough time for pie, so chocolate cake it is.”

“You’re… full of surprises, Dean Winchester” she shook her head. He wasn’t real. He couldn’t be.

“More wine?” he asked, as he waited for the ramekins to cool.

“Oh gosh, I’ve had three glasses. I really shouldn’t” she said, looking at the bottle. “Ah, screw it. Sure!”

Dean chuckled and poured some for Y/N and then himself as What Is and What Should Never Be began to play.

And if I say to you tomorrow

Take my hand, child come with me

It’s to a castle I will take you

Where what’s to be, they say will be

He watched as she hopped up on the kitchen bench and took her glass. He took out a spoon from the drawer and slowly cut into the cake, watching the melted chocolate ooze out. He took some in the spoon and brought it over to her. He blew on it slightly, as he held his hand under it.

“Okay, tell me if it’s good” he said, as she leaned in and took the mouthful in.

The sound she made as she closed her eyes caused the heat to rise in his cheeks.

“Fuck” she moaned, delightedly. “That’s so fucking amazing!”

He sighed in relief and cleared his throat at the sounds she made, as he grinned at her. “Good to know.”

“You are an incredible cook, Dean. I’m glad I came over tonight” she said, looking at him as he took a bite himself.

Catch the wind, see us spin

Sail away leave today

Way up high, in the sky, hey

He hummed as he tasted it himself. “Well, me too. All this didn’t go to waste, which it definitely would’ve considering Lisa couldn’t stay, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome” she smiled, as she took a sip of wine.

He saw a speck of melted chocolate on the side of her lips and lifted his hand.

But the wind won’t blow

You really shouldn’t go

It only goes to show

“Hey, you got a little chocolate… right there” he murmured as he swiped his thumb across her lips and removed it.

“Oh” she gasped. “Thanks.”

The song continued to play as they looked at each other, their faces close as their eyes met.

That you will be mine

By taking our time, ooh

Before he could think twice about it, Dean leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It took her a second, but quickly her lips moved against his. The kiss became heated instantly, their lips moving together sensually. He moved forward between her legs and wrapped his arms around her waist, as her arms went around his neck at the same time her legs wrapped around his hips. Her fingers combed through his hair, her fists tightening in the short spikes as he softly bit her bottom lip. She moaned into the kiss as his hands pulled her in, trying to get as close to her as possible.

And if you say to me tomorrow

Oh what fun it all would be

Then what’s to stop us, pretty baby

But what is and what should never be

Dean’s lips left hers as they trailed down, nipping at her jaw and moving down further. He nipped at her neck, causing another moan to leave her as he found her weak spot. She brought him in closer, gripping the short hair at the back of his head, tight. He slowly slipped his hand under her loose sweater, the heat of his hand meeting her back and spreading through her body. When his hand travelled up her back, the spell she was under broke.

Y/N pulled away from Dean, looking up into his green eyes. They were dark and blown wide from the moment of weakness they both just had, and she was sure hers were the same. She pushed herself away from him, her legs falling away from as he moved out of her space.

“I can’t do this” she said, frantically shaking her head.

She quickly hopped off the bench, looking for her phone. It was still on the island where she had left it. She quickly picked it up and ran towards the door.

Dean snapped out of his trance and followed behind her. “Y/N, wait!”

She didn’t hear him as she swung the door open and raced out, bounding down the stairs as she ran across the street.

Dean watched from the threshold as she ran into her house, shutting the door behind her. He thought that he should go over there, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. He stepped back in and closed the door. He ran his hands through his hair, messing up the spikes and ran them back down his face. He walked back into the kitchen, replaying what just happened over and over in his head. He had lost control and the guilt was beginning to settle in. Lisa didn’t deserve that, no matter how bad things were between them. He shouldn’t have done that with Y/N, she didn’t need this.

As he ran his hand over his lips, however, he closed his eyes. He could still her lips, still feel her touch on his body, still feel the smoothness of her skin against his hands. In that moment, it felt so right to be in her arms. It hadn’t felt wrong.

He knew now that he had just complicated things even more. Every fibre within him wanted to be close to her again, but he couldn’t.

He just had to try even harder now, with Lisa. That was the only way to not think about Y/N anymore.

That was the only way to fix things.

Y/N slammed the door behind her as she entered her house. She breathed heavily, her frantic run from Dean’s had winded her. She walked into the kitchen and opened the tap at the sink, flicking specks of water at her face. She took out a glass and filled it, gulping the water down.

Once she had calmed down slightly, her mind wandered back to what happened. She had kissed Dean. Dean, who was in a relationship. Dean, who was practically a father to a student in her class. Dean, who made her laugh and let her tell her story, without judging her. Dean, who said she was strong. Dean, who told her she was beautiful. Dean, who made her feel safe. Dean, who she was starting to have real feelings for.

It felt right to be with him, when it should’ve felt wrong. She was a horrible person and she never should’ve gone over there tonight.

She couldn’t see him again. Yes, it would be hard considering their close proximity, but she couldn’t. She had to forget about how she felt and remember he had a family. A family that didn’t deserve this, even if things were rocky.

She had to let go of Dean, when every instinct was telling her to pull him in and hold him tight.

She had to let him go, no matter how much it hurt.

She had to let him go, because it was the right thing to do.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05

#Life's Lessons #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

232 notes · View notes

theautumnisnoble · 3 years ago

Text

we'll learn to swim in the oceans you made

After listening to Shirtsleeves by Ed Sheeran this scenario immediately came into mind, also heavily inspired by Jenn Im's pregnancy youtube video titled, "We're Pregnant!"

[Also a very big thank you to A (@solhwippedsubs on twt and holdoutandwin on ao3) for beta-reading this. I love you my solhwi fluff confidant!]

Word Count: 2k words

"Wake up!" Sol removes the comforter that was covering his husband's body and started shaking him. "Han Joon Hwi, ireona!"

"Mmm, Sol-ah. Why?" Joon Hwi covered his eyes with his arm to shield them from the rays of sunlight and wondered why the love of his life was forcing him out of their bed so early in the morning.

"Ireona! Jebal.." Joon Hwi immediately shot up as Sol's voice started to crack and he examined her face. Sol teared up and Joon Hwi noticed she was holding something tightly, stick close to snapping into half.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Joon Hwi held both of her arms and looked up at her.

Sol had been so emotional these days, well, more than she usually is. Sol always has been a passionate ball of fury, but Joon Hwi especially had it rough this week. He doesn't find Sol annoying or tiring for any of that matter, but he would wonder why Sol would suddenly cry or get mad at him for absolutely no reason, and if there was, then he avoided asking it as when he did that one time, Sol only got more mad at him. There was also yesterday when Joon Hwi sprayed on himself the perfume that Sol gifted to him on their wedding anniversary last April and Sol suddenly pinched her nose close and walked outside of their bedroom. And now, Sol was in tears, sobbing, at 7 am in the morning.

"Babe.. I'm starting to worry. What's wrong?"

"I told you to be careful!!!" Sol lightly punched his shoulder and bawled.

Joon Hwi raised his arm and wiped her tears using the sleeves of his sweater, pulling on the cloth with his fingers. "What did I do wrong? Calm down for a sec and tell me.."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"O-okay." Joon Hwi surrendered for a while and let Sol release all of her emotions. Moments later, her sobs started to simmer down and Joon Hwi opened his arms wide. "C'mere."

Sol bended down and let Joon Hwi's arms circle around her. Her lower body slowly went closer to him and then she sat on his lap, her shoulder against his chest. Joon Hwi wiped down the dampness on her face and caressed her arm. "Now, babe, talk to me, okay? I'm never gonna know what I did wrong if you won't tell me."

Sol faced him and tried to form intelligent words. "Well, you—"

"Hmm?"

"I'm—" Her mouth started to form into a pout and tears started fall again from her eyes. "Joon Hwi-ah." She released sobs again and buried her face into his neck. Joon Hwi sighed and patted her arm.

"Babe—"

"I'm pregnant."

Joon Hwi paused his movements and pulled his head back away, lightly pushing Sol by her shoulders, to let Sol face him. Sol's eyes wandered down to her left hand and Joon Hwi followed them, then he grabbed the stick from her hand.

It was a pregnancy test. Two red-dyed lines. Positive.

Joon Hwi faced Sol, his lips starting to form into a smile. "Babe—"

"I told you to be careful!!" Sol again whimpered, tears still falling.

"W-what? Is it because I—"

"Nevermind!" Sol wiped her tears in a rash way and breathed out to calm herself down. "I-it's actually not your fault." Sol now realized the irrationality of her internal reasoning.

Joon Hwi held back a chuckle and tucked a hair behind his wife's ear.

"Remember April?"

"When we shared a sloppy kiss under the rain?" Joon Hwi tried to lighten the mood by reminding her how they had to walk all the way to the bus stop under the heavy pouring rain, just right after they had their wedding anniversary date at a fine dining restaurant four months ago. It was a funny, but sweet memory.

"No! Before that, when I got diagnosed with PCOS."

"Aah."

It left Sol and Joon Hwi almost hopeless for a child when she was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. But Sol, even before that, was convinced she didn't need to have kids and that she was satisfied with her life with Joon Hwi, content that they'd be that couple with no children. They were already busy with their very time-demanding jobs and Sol— she convinced herself she wouldn't be competent with the whole mothering a child thing. But after knowing her condition, the question, "should I?" turned to "could I?". The condition that would possibly rob her of the choice eventually made her think about how it wouldn't be so bad, because Joon Hwi was there. So after the news of her condition, she decided on one thing.

"A-after that I got off birth control." Joon Hwi nodded and listened to Sol, who was still tearing up a bit, and he also wiped down those tears when he could.

"Then yesterday, when I realized I wasn't on my period yet, I got to read my period calculator and saw that I- I was 16 days late." Sol exhaled for courage.

"Then I bought the pregnancy test." Sol paused and looked at Joon Hwi, and her face looked like she was about to burst again. Her lips were shaking and her eyes were still crystal with tears ready to fall. She was scared.

"You can take it slow, I'll be here. I won't stop listening." Sol released a small smile, tidied her face and tucked in her stray hairs, preparing to tell Joon Hwi more while also now trying to relax herself.

"I didn't know if I should take it though. I mean, everything would change if I was pregnant. But I did wanna know, I wanted to be certain. And it said that I should use my morning pee for it so I waited until morning."

"But you hardly even slept.." Joon Hwi recalls her wife tossing and turning beside him, and then ultimately giving up trying to sleep then went downstairs. He bets on Sol reading up on her cases, which works as an alternative sleeping pill for her.

Ever since she was diagnosed with PCOS, Sol really took effort into having a more healthy lifestyle— like exchanging coffee for matcha, this among other things, and also trying to get some more sleep. So Joon Hwi knew that Sol would definitely try to catch up on sleep.

"I did, a bit." She smiled. "So, after that I took it just earlier. A-and I tested positive." Sol's emotions now returned to her and she closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and tears started to fall again.

"I'm scared." She looked at him. "I don't know if I'm gonna be a good mother. I feel like I should be happy or something, but I'm just really scared." Sol now covered her face with both palms and cried, Joon Hwi pulled her in to embrace her.

"Babe.." He patted her back.

"What if I try my best, and our kid still doesn't love me?" That was it. Sol released another wave of sobs and her body shook against Joon Hwi's embrace.

Sol thought she wasn't ready. Even if it was her choice to get off birth control, she didn't think she would immediately become pregnant. After all, her doctor said it was now almost impossible to be. In her mind, pregnancy would change everything— from how much devotion she has to her work to maybe how her and Joon Hwi's relationship would change, and maybe for the worst. And she didn't like change, her idealistic plans for her future would need to be altered, and she also didn't like how it would most likely change their marriage. She couldn't have that, she couldn't live with a ruined marriage because she didn't want anything to change between Joon Hwi and her, and she also couldn't live with her child possibly having to live through all that. And what if he gets tired of taking care of me? And tons of other doubts and insecurities showered her.

Why does my mind do this? Sol asked herself. Why can't I just be excited? Joon Hwi is the father of this child. I'm sure he's disappointed in me right now.

Joon Hwi pulled away after she calmed down. He wiped her face, again with his already damp shirtsleeves. He placed short kisses on her wet cheeks and cupped her face. "Sol, I believe in you."

Sol melted and her lips turned into a pout, her face still showing fear and uncertainty.

"I'm with you, whatever your decision is. I will be always there for you as I always have. If you arrive to whichever decision, I will give you my opinion but at the end I will always support you. If you don't want to have the baby, I'll still be here. If you want to try and see it through the end, I will be happy and help you every step of the way. I'm your husband Sol-ah. I know you don't trust yourself that much yet, but trust in me. "

Sol put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I love you Sol. We'll take it slow, step by step. I know you're panicking right now, but there's no rush. We'll do it together. You're never gonna be alone. I'll be there every single step of the way. And I'm sure our kid will love you. You were an amazing older sister to Byeol and you still are, she adores you so I'm sure our kid will, too."

"I love you Joon Hwi. I love you so much. I love you."

"You love me that much?"

Sol pulled away, annoyed. Joon Hwi released a chuckle.

"I love you too."

"You sure I can do it?" Sol asked. "Being a mom? What if I'm going to be too busy for it?"

"We can always ask Byeol to babysit. Or your mom, she has said she already wants a grandchild."

"You always know the solution to things don't you?" Sol rolled her eyes.

"That's why I'm the perfect husband to the ever worrier Eomma Sol."

"Eomma Sol?" Sol raised her voice, taken aback by the sudden nickname.

"And I'm Appa Joon Hwi. " Then Sol bursted out, laughing. Her tears were now drying on her cheeks and she was more relaxed now.

"See? It's cute." I just wanted to see you smile. Joon Hwi thought.

Sol pulled him into a hug again. "You better not regret being a father to our child, Han Joon Hwi-ssi."

Joon Hwi let himself fall into bed, taking down Sol with her. They both laughed and Joon Hwi pulled her into a kiss, tasting the bitterness and sadness of her tears. They made out, feeling at home and Sol, feeling assured and loved by the person in front of her. Joon Hwi kissed her, tasting the ocean, drowning in the one she made.

"I will never regret it. I will fulfill all the promises I made on our wedding day, to be by your side, To support you, to be a loving husband, to be always there to annoy you—" Sol laughed, remembering his one-liner during their exchange of wedding vows. "To always wake and sleep beside you whenever I can, and to never leave your side." They both smiled at each other and Joon Hwi placed a kiss on her forehead. They pull each other close, feeling each other's warmth. And Sol is now close to slumber, fatigued after her nonstop crying.

"I'll be the happiest father to our child. Of course I will, you're the mother, after all."

#law school bingo #law school bingo: kissing in the rain #law school bingo: insecurity #law school bingo: wedding vows #law school bingo: anniversary #law school bingo: pregnancy #law school bingo: nicknames #law school fic fest #law school month #law school bingo: i just wanted to see you smile #Law School Bingo: Verdict

21 notes · View notes