#I have no idea how that happened but I'm glad I managed to fall in love with them despite their initial release being ruined for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fatecantstopme · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! How are you today? I hope you are doing well today! I have read your stories well mostly of Dean and I fall in love with them! Your stories are just French kisses!! I was wondering if you are okay the the idea or available in Season 10 ep 1-3 Dean is the knight of hell but instead of Sam who found him, it has his wife or fiance reader? He doesn't harm her at all but all he wants to do is trap her and rail her all long day and night he willingly goes with her to the bunker. Something like that, I'm very sorry if it's accurate could it but smut and fluff if it's okay with you? If not that okie! Don't worry! I love your stories and Keep up on doing what you do best! Thank you and have a wonderful day!!

OMG STAHHHP. You're so sweet. I'm glad you like my writing--I love doing it! AND I LOVE THIS ASK SO FREAKING MUCH. I love you for giving me the opportunity to write Dean in the most dominating, degrading, aggressive way possible without feeling bad for making him like that. I love my soft!dom Dean...but I am so freaking into this...HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

Fiend

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: I mean...just read the lovely anon's request. So gooooood.

Warnings: An unnecessary amount of SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), choking, slight degradation, rough sex, oral (M & F receiving), face sitting, orgasm denial, Dean is very dominant. Cursing, canon violence, Mark of Cain bloodlust, use of pet names, slight domestic violence.

A/N: I 100% went overboard on this one and I have no regrets. Fair warning, it's insanely long. It doesn't follow the season 10 storyline perfectly, but we've got the core elements.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked softly.

Sam stared at you, a familiar dark expression on his face. "Do you want to find him or not?"

You closed your eyes and sighed quietly. Of course you did, but you didn't want to lose who you were along the way. "You know I do, but torture's not exactly my thing."

"It's a demon."

"Wearing an innocent woman."

"Fine. You stay out here, then."

You watched Sam enter the dungeon, clearly prepared to do whatever it took to find his brother. The first scream echoed through the hallway and straight into your chest like a knife. You couldn't stay there--didn't wanna hear what happened next.

You went as far away as you could, walking past the bedroom you hadn't entered since the night he'd died. Sam had been the one to discover he was gone--Sam had been the one who found his note. You'd cried yourself to sleep on the couch in the library, heart too broken to even move.

The next morning, you woke to Sam's shouts of your name, but nothing would prepare you for what happened next. Sam's frightened eyes met yours and all he said was "He's gone," before handing you a note.

It was Dean's handwriting. You were sure of it. All it said was "(Y/N), Sammy, let me go."

That was six weeks ago.

Simple as the request was, it wasn't something either you or Sam could do, nor could Castiel. The three of you loved that man too much to just let him go.

At this point, all you knew was Dean was gone and Crowley was with him. Dean's handwriting on the note was the only indicator he wasn't dead...but you'd watched him die. You'd held him in your arms. The only possible answer was that Crowley had gotten a demon to possess Dean's body and rode off into the sunset with him. What you didn't know was why.

**********

Torturing the demon hadn't exactly proven fruitful, but Sam did manage to find a case he thought was connected to Dean. He was convinced the death of a man named Drew Neely was related to demons--and possibly to the missing Winchester.

While it seemed like quite a stretch to you, you were willing to go with him to Wisconsin and find out what happened.

As per usual, you and Sam pretended to be FBI to get inside information on the investigation. Much to your surprise, when the local PD showed you and Sam security footage from the gas station where Drew Neely was murdered, you saw a very familiar face.

You'd know him anywhere--Dean Winchester, seemingly alive and well, being attacked by Drew Neely. You watched as Dean pulled the First Blade from inside his jacket and stabbed Neely repeatedly. As the other man died violently, you watched in horror as Dean's normally beautiful green eyes turned black as night.

You looked up at Sam, whose expression matched your own. It looked like Sam's suspicions were correct--Dean was in fact possessed by a demon. Your only thought was saving him, even though you knew you'd really only be saving his body. You'd be damned if you let some demon scum ride around in Dean's body forever.

When you left the station, Sam turned to you, eyes full of a mixture of sorrow and anger. "Wanna go to the gas station? See if there's anything there?"

You nodded, still a little too upset to do much talking. Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. He knew full-well how difficult this whole thing was for you. This wasn't Sam's first experience with his brother's death, but it was a first for you. He could tell the loss was killing you slowly, especially with Dean's body being defiled by some demon asshole.

When you arrived at the gas station, you were both surprised when the clerk handed you Neely's phone. You wondered why he hadn't given it over to the police, but at the moment, you couldn't be bothered to care. You wanted answers and this phone might be the key.

"There's a text from a number not saved in the contacts," Sam said as he scrolled through the phone's contents.

You leaned forward to look at the screen. "An Abbadon loyalist," you mumbled. "Lovely. But who the hell told Neely Dean was even here?"

Sam shrugged as he pressed the call button, dialing the number on the screen. "Only one way to find out."

When the voice on the other end of the phone answered, the rage that had been simmering inside of you for 6 weeks finally overflowed. "Crowley, you son of a bitch!" you yelled.

The chuckle on the other end did nothing to ease your anger. "Well hello (Y/N). I was wondering when I'd hear from you. Can I assume your avenging Moose is there too?"

You were about to tear into Crowley, but Sam placed a firm hand on your shoulder and shook his head. You clamped your mouth shut so tightly your jaw began to ache.

"Where the hell is my brother, you son of a bitch?"

"Maybe if you were nicer to me, I'd help you."

"Why don't you just start by telling us why you sent an Abbadon loyalist after Dean in the first place?" you growled.

"How else was I supposed to keep the bloodlust at bay? The Mark wants what the Mark wants."

You inhaled sharply, the ache in your chest intensifying at his words. Even in death, the damn Mark of Cain was still torturing Dean.

"Where are you?" Sam tried again.

"Oh please, Samuel, as if I'm going to tell you. Your brother and I are having a grand ol' time together. I quite like this version of him. I'm sure you and (Y/N) are jealous over our new relationship, but I simply can't be bothered to care."

"If Dean wasn't possessed, there's no way he'd be with you," you seethed.

Crowley's laughter echoed through the phone, sending cold shivers down your back. "You think he's possessed? That's not how the Mark works, sweetheart."

The condescension in his tone made you want to crawl through the phone and rip his throat out, but you managed to bite your tongue.

"The Mark twists the soul--darkening it with each kill--until all that remains is darkness," Crowley gloated. "So you see, Dean isn't possessed by a demon, he is one. Not just any demon either—a knight of hell."

You took a step back, suddenly feeling incredibly nauseous. Out of all the scenarios that had run through your mind when Dean went missing, this wasn't one of them. There was no worse way to dishonor his memory--his legacy--than this.

You vaguely heard Sam yelling into the phone, but your mind was spinning too quickly for you to comprehend a single word. Your entire world had just been tipped on its head and you weren't sure how to find solid ground again.

You doubled over, breath coming out in painful heaves. Bile rose in the back of your throat and you found yourself hurling the limited amount of food you'd eaten all over the sidewalk.

You felt Sam's strong, comforting hand on your back as he tried to calm you. After several more dry heaves, you managed to stand back up, eyes bloodshot from the exertion.

Sam's gaze was gentle, but you could see the pain in his eyes. As much as you loved Dean, you knew Sam loved him just as much. You couldn't afford to break down now--not when the two people you loved most in this world needed you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"No need to apologize, (Y/N/N). This is a lot to take in."

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

"I think I know how to find them."

Your head snapped up, meeting Sam's gaze with hope for the first time in weeks. "How?"

"I think I can track Crowley's phone."

You shot Sam a weak grin. "Thank god you're a genius. Let's go."

Before heading to Crowley's last known location, you and Sam discussed your findings thus far. You now knew Dean wasn't technically dead--which meant there was a slight chance you could use the ritual you'd tried on Crowley over a year ago.

There was a chance you could make Dean human again--and it was a risk you were more than willing to make. Knowing Dean was still in there--still alive--made you more reckless than you'd ever been. You were determined to bring him home, no matter the cost.

**********

You and Sam decided to split up, determining you had more of a shot at bringing Dean home that way. Sam went one route and you went the other, stealing a car to make your journey.

You didn’t realize it, but this decision would result in a cascade of events that would put you right in the crosshairs of the demon your husband had become—alone.

As you sped along the dark highway towards the Black Spur, you were left with nothing to do but listen to the thoughts swirling around your mind. Without Sam there to keep you occupied, your inner turmoil had begun to rear its ugly head.

Out of all the things you’d expected to happen when Dean died, becoming a demon had not been among them. Being possessed was one thing—being a demon was another thing entirely.

You knew exactly how Dean would feel about it, if he’d actually had the ability to feel, and it broke your heart. He was the strongest man you’d ever known, but this would break him. Even worse, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what you would feel when you found him.

You loved Dean Winchester with every part of your soul. He was your best friend, your lover, your partner, your husband. He was the man who never failed to make you laugh or bring a smile to your face. He held you when you cried, took care of you when you were hurt, and made love to you like you were the only thing tethering him to earth. But you knew that man was gone—all that remained was the beautiful body that once held the most incredible soul you’d ever known.

You felt the tears well up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn’t fix things and you’d done more than enough of that in the last month. Instead, you focused on what you were going to do when you found Dean.

You had no idea how you were going to convince him to come back to the bunker with you. You weren’t even sure he wouldn’t kill you if you tried to force him. You’d come prepared, but you would die before killing him. End of the day, he was Dean—somewhere inside him was the man you loved.

Part of you hoped Sammy would get there first—that he’d be the one to find Dean. Then he’d be faced with the decision of what to do next, sparing you the pain. You knew that wasn’t fair, but if you were being honest, you didn’t trust yourself to do this alone. One single look at his face could very well be your undoing.

You sighed quietly and glanced at your GPS. Only a couple hours to go before you would find out for yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam had managed to get himself kidnapped when his car broke down on the way to the Black Spur, which meant he most definitely would not be beating you there. Unfortunately for you, that meant confronting Dean would be entirely on your shoulders--a weight you certainly didn't wish to carry.

**********

A few hours later, you arrived at the Black Spur, unsurprised and maybe a bit relieved to see that Dean was no longer there. You talked to the bouncer Dean had beat the shit out of the night before, so you knew you weren't very far behind him.

What you didn't know was Crowley and Dean had a rather intense falling out due to Dean's ever-growing aggressive behavior and complete and utter lack of respect for Crowley.

After leaving the Black Spur, you decided to stop at a motel, get some sleep, and wait for Sam. You'd tried calling him to no avail and you were starting to worry, but you knew Sam could take care of himself.

You'd just managed to fall asleep when your phone rang. It was Sam.

"Everything alright?" you asked.

"Got kidnapped by some guy named Cole."

"Sorry, what?"

"Apparently Dean killed his dad when he was a teenager and now he wants revenge. He kidnapped me hoping I would tell him where Dean was. He admitted he was trying to get us both, but he hadn't expected us to split up."

"Great. Just what we need. Some random human hunting the best hunter-turned-demon in history."

Sam sighed his agreement. "Cole called Dean...and he actually answered."

"What?!"

"Told him he'd kill me if Dean didn't give himself up."

You paused for a moment, breath caught in your chest. "And?"

"He refused. Told Cole he'd given me explicit instructions to let him go--and it was my fault for not listening to him," Sam said with a huff. "Then he told Cole if he killed me, he'd hunt him down and kill him."

You chuckled dryly. "That actually sounds like Dean."

Sam chuckled softly with you. "Yeah...it does."

You could hear the sorrow in his voice and you knew it matched your own. Seeing even the slightest sliver of your Dean in this demon version was beyond painful.

"I managed to get away while he was distracted. I'm on my way to the Black Spur now," Sam said after a few moments.

"He's not here. I've looked."

You could almost hear Sam's chest deflate as the hope left him. "Any sign of where they might've gone next?"

"No," you answered softly. "And Crowley turned his damn phone off."

Sam sighed heavily. "We'll find him, (Y/N)."

You wanted to believe him--wanted to have that kind of faith, but you'd lost steam. There wasn't a trail to follow, and even if there was, you weren't sure you should follow it. Dean had left Sam to die all because he'd ignored Dean's instructions. What would he do to you if you found him?

You ignored the tightening in your chest, pushing down your emotions as deeply as you could before wrapping up your call. You told Sam what motel you were in and that you'd see him in a couple hours.

You'd just laid back down when there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun and slipped an angel blade into the waistband of your pants before moving towards the door. When you looked through the peephole, your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

You ripped open the door with surprising force, angel blade pointing at the visitor's throat.

"Watch where you're pointing that thing," Crowley grumbled.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Because I know where your husband is."

Your expression softened slightly, but the blade remained pressed to his neck. "Are you going to tell me or do I need to beat it out of you."

Crowley laughed mirthlessly. "Oh please, (Y/N). We all know you aren't capable of torture."

He was right, of course, but you would never admit it. Instead, you narrowed your eyes and pressed the blade a little more firmly into his skin.

The demon winced and threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! I'll tell you. Just put that thing down."

You remained still for a moment before stepping back and allowing him entry into your room. You closed the door behind him, keeping the blade securely in your hand. "Talk."

"It's more that I know how to find him and less that I know where he is."

You clenched your jaw, feeling the simmering rage begin to boil. "This entire thing is your fault, Crowley, so if you want to stay alive, I suggest you speak plainly."

"We're not exactly on good terms at the moment."

Your eyes scanned his face and a small smirk appeared on yours. "He get tired of you?"

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "We had a disagreement over how to handle his bloodlust. Plus, he's even more arrogant than he was as a human."

Your heart clenched at the word 'bloodlust'. You'd hoped it had subsided in his death, but that damn Mark wouldn't quit until it took every last vestige of humanity left in Dean.

"Fine, so he left your ass in the dust. How do you plan to find him?"

"I have several demons watching his every move. I can't have him making too much of a mess. His type of chaos is bad for business."

"Then make a call and tell me where he is."

"Happily," Crowley paused. "On one condition."

"There it is," you grumbled.

"It's a simple request, really. All I want in return is the First Blade."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons, and I'm quite certain you don't want it in Dean's hands."

You thought about it for a few moments. "If you screw me over, I will burn your sordid kingdom to the ground around you before killing you in the most painful way possible."

Crowley almost seemed impressed. "I think you've spent a little too much time with Dean."

"Not nearly enough," you mumbled under your breath. "Do we have an understanding?"

"I tell you where to find Dean, you give me the Blade."

"You take me to Dean, I give you the Blade," you countered.

A look of fear flashed across his face. "I'd really rather not."

"I don't give a damn. You made this mess, so you're gonna help us out of it."

Crowley sighed. "Fine."

You grabbed your phone off the nightstand, but Crowley interrupted you before you could dial.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Sam."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why the hell not?"

"You will have better luck persuading Dean than Sam will. You've never once betrayed Dean--never let him down. Sam cannot say the same. As such, it's likely Dean will be more likely to have a soft spot for you, even now."

You contemplated his words for several moments, before shaking your head. "Sam's his brother. He needs to know."

Crowley snapped his fingers, sending your phone flying across the room and into the wall with shocking speed, shattering it instantly.

"You son of a bitch!"

"You want my help? We go alone. Sam can catch up."

You glared at him in annoyance, before sighing quietly. "Fine. But I'm driving."

**********

"A piano bar?" you asked in surprise as you parked across the street.

"That's what they said."

Your eyes scanned the street before landing on a familiar black Chevy Impala. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing you were about to come face to face with your worst nightmare.

Crowley's gaze followed yours and he hummed quietly. "As I said, he's here."

"Get out," you hissed. "You're coming in too."

"Pardon?"

"Do you want the Blade, Crowley? Then get out of the damn car."

He huffed, but did as you said. You gestured for him to walk ahead of you, effectively blocking you from sight from the inside of the bar.

The moment Crowley entered, Dean felt his presence. "Didn't expect you to come back," he stated as he sipped some whiskey.

Hearing his voice sent a wave of emotion through your body, having not heard it in weeks.

Dean seemed to realize Crowley wasn't alone and you heard him inhale deeply. "I'd know that scent anywhere." He finally turned around to face the two of you. "(Y/N)."

"Hello Dean," you said softly, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. The idea he could smell you from several feet away was both a reminder of who he'd become, and an uncomfortable turn-on.

Dean glared at Crowley, realizing he had given his location up. Before he could say anything to him, you stepped forward, causing Dean's gaze to snap back to you.

"I suggest you run before I rip your heart out and feed it to you," you growled under your breath, not sparing another look in Crowley’s direction.

Crowley immediately stepped back, exiting the bar as quickly as possible.

"I didn't think you'd be foolish enough to work with Crowley," Dean said lowly.

"Means to an end."

"Hmm." He took a long drink of his whiskey before placing the empty glass on the counter. "I'm surprised you're here alone."

"Glad you asked--Sam's fine. No thanks to you."

Dean's eyes narrowed and he stood up, taking a step towards you. "I gave both of you very explicit instructions to let me go. What happens to you when you disobey is not my fault."

You inhaled sharply, body reacting to his words without approval from your brain. You clenched your jaw, trying to appear calmer than you felt.

Dean had always been extremely perceptive, and his demon abilities only heightened it. He took another predatory step towards you. "I can see your turmoil, sweetheart--you want me and you hate yourself for it."

You scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself--you're not Dean."

He laughed and the sound sent chills down your spine. "That's where you're wrong--I'm 100% Dean, just the new and improved version."

You felt a pang in your chest. "I'll have to disagree on the 'improved' part."

Dean started to slowly circle you, like a predator hunting his prey. "Aren't you the least bit curious, (Y/N)?" Each ring brought him closer and closer to you, until you could feel his body heat enveloping you. "Don't you want to know about all the things I can do now? All the ways I can wreck that pretty little body of yours?"

You felt his breath on the back of your neck--and you were embarrassed when your lips parted and your own breathing sped up.

"I can hear your heart racing, sweetheart." The pet name dripped with condescension--his voice low and gruff, barely above a growl. You felt a wave of arousal rush to your core, thighs rubbing together on instinct.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Dean, who let out a dark chuckle. His lips brushed against your ear as he inhaled deeply. "I can smell how badly you want me, (Y/N)."

His hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you back so you were flush against his front. You felt his hard length pressing into you through his jeans, a soft needy sound escaping your lips.

Suddenly he pulled away, leaving you feeling vulnerable and embarrassed. He might be wearing your husband's face, but he was a demon for christ's sake! You should be as far from turned on as humanly possible.

He came to a stop in front of you, close enough to touch you, but far enough to allow you some clarity. "I imagine you came here to talk me into coming home?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was obvious he could read you as well as he did as a human.

"If I'd wanted to be human again, I wouldn't have left. I'm as familiar with the cure as you are, sweetheart--and it's not worth it to me. I like who I am--I like being a demon. All that baggage I carried as a human? It's gone--I've never felt more free, (Y/N), and I'm not giving that up."

Much to Dean's surprise, your expression morphed into quiet understanding, eyes softening as you watched him closely. He felt uncomfortable under your gaze, so he flashed his eyes black in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

You winced slightly, hating seeing those demon eyes obscuring the brilliant green you loved so much. Your expression, however, remained soft. "Your life wasn't easy," you murmured gently. "There was a lot of heartbreak, pain, and loss...not to mention the weight of the entire world on your shoulders for most of your adult life. I can understand why you'd prefer this...you no longer have to give a damn."

Dean wanted to be annoyed--he wanted to be angry, his need for control surging inside him. Instead, he found himself stepping closer to you again--drawn to your soft eyes and sweet expression. Somewhere deep inside, emotions began to stir.

What had once been a deep, unending love for you, had turned to a lust so powerful, it threatened to devour you both. His eyes turned back to green, but the irises were barely visible around his widened pupils. His gaze was hungry, the predatory look having returned with a vengeance.

"How 'bout we go back to my room?" he purred lowly.

You knew you should say no--you shouldn't go anywhere alone with him, but you couldn't bring yourself to deny him.

"Are you afraid of me, (Y/N)?"

"You're a knight of hell," you whispered. "I'd have to be a fool not to be."

He smirked coldly. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you, sweetheart?"

Despite the darkness within him--despite what he had become--you believed in your heart he would never hurt you.

"No," you murmured honestly.

His smirk widened, rough fingers reaching out to grip your jaw tightly. "Oh I will hurt you, baby--but only in the ways you like."

You inhaled sharply, a wave of arousal dampening your panties even further. Your lips parted slightly, eyes never leaving his.

"You're coming with me," he growled possessively, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he dragged you to the door.

He pulled you roughly out onto the sidewalk and practically dragged you to the Impala, pulling the door open and shoving you into the passenger seat.

His aggression was a turn-on, none of his actions thus far having hurt you. You were certain you'd have bruising on your wrist from where he grabbed you, but you were completely fine with it.

He drove in silence at a speed that sent little waves of terror through you. The hotel he was staying at wasn't far, but he still made it there in record time. It was a much nicer place than the ones you usually stayed in, but you weren't surprised that Dean's tastes had become a little more bougie.

He dragged you into the elevator, pulling your back flush against his chest, hands gripping your upper arms like iron vices. You squirmed slightly and he let out a low growl, grip tightening.

"You move like that again and I'm gonna fuck you in this damn elevator," he hissed.

Part of you was into it, but you also didn't want to get caught fucking your demon husband in a public elevator. So you remained as still as possible until the doors opened on his floor and he pulled you down the hall to his room.

Once inside, Dean slammed the door with force, pinning you up against it so your cheek was pressed into it. His body was molded up against yours and his hot breath fanned across your neck. You felt his teeth scrape your pulse point, earning a low moan from you.

"You have one chance to get out of this," he growled. "One chance to say no and walk away before I fucking devour you."

If you'd had any sense, you would have ran away and never looked back, but you were already too far gone. He might not be the Dean you married, but he was still Dean--just the much darker, much wilder version.

"Fuck me, Dean," you begged softly.

He groaned lowly. "Oh I'm gonna do so much more than that sweetheart."

He ground his bulge into your back and bit into the soft flesh in the crook of your neck, causing you to whimper slightly.

"Wanna know the best part about being a demon?" he purred in your ear as he tugged your head back by your hair so he could see your eyes.

You nodded your head as best you could and waited for him to continue.

"I can have multiple orgasms and I've got the stamina of a god," he murmured. "I can fuck you all night long if I want to--and damnit I want to."

He spun you around quickly, slamming you against the wall beside the door. His lips were on yours immediately, tongue invading your mouth before you could even process what was happening.

You whimpered softly as his lips left yours and he began to kiss and nip his way across your jaw, down your throat, and to your collarbone. He wasn't being gentle, but you still found yourself wanting more--needing more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, unused to the longer locks. It gave you more to grab, giving you a firmer grip on his head--and you loved it. If the groan that left Dean's mouth was any indication, he loved it too.

You felt his hands grasping at the front of your shirt before ripping it right in half. You yelped in surprise, but he ignored you, instead grabbing the edges of your bra and tugging them down to reveal your breasts.

"Oh, I missed these," Dean murmured before leaning back down to pull your nipple into his mouth. He used both hands to massage your breasts harshly, fingertips pinching at your exposed nipple while he nipped and sucked on the other.

You were panting heavily--almost to an embarrassing degree given how little this man had actually done to you. You found yourself falling into a familiar role with him, though he was much rougher than you were accustomed to.

When he switched to suck on your other breast, he slipped one hand down your stomach to the top of your jeans. He unfastened them easily before sliding his hand into them to cup your very wet pussy.

You felt Dean's smirk against your breast a moment before he lifted his head to look at your face. "Your panties are soaked," he groaned. "How long have you been thinking about me fucking you senseless?"

Your eyes weren't entirely focused on him and you didn't respond right away, so he grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You respond when I ask you a question."

You gasped softly before whimpering out an answer, "Since I saw you in the bar."

He gave you a look clearly indicating his disbelief. "Really?" His fingers pressed more firmly against your pussy, brushing against your clit purposefully. He ignored your soft moan, but you saw the smirk in his eyes. "You didn't imagine me fucking you while you played with your pretty pussy? Don't lie to me, sweetheart, I know you can't go almost 2 months without an orgasm."

You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your honest response.

His eyes flashed black and your heart leapt into your throat, a surge of fear sweeping through you. "Don't be a brat, (Y/N)," he growled. "You know what will happen."

Under normal circumstances, you'd play into the bratty role--it always got Dean riled up. But this wasn't a normal situation and he wasn't the normal Dean. Dean had always been a very loving and affectionate dom, but you knew demon Dean was about as far from loving and affectionate as one could be. You didn't want to see exactly how far he'd go if you pushed his buttons.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Answer my question."

"I did imagine you," you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.

He pretended to have missed your words and he leaned in closer. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I imagined you," you said again, slightly louder.

"I know." He simultaneously bit into your neck and rubbed his fingers against your clothed clit, eliciting a wanton moan from your lips.

"There are lots of women in this world that'll fall right into my bed with a single look from me, but not a single one has a pussy like yours. Been dreamin' of it for weeks."

His words hurt you, but you pushed those feelings aside and tried to focus on the positive of the backhanded compliment he'd just given you.

He suddenly stepped back, leaving you completely untethered and weaker than you'd expected. Had the wall not been right behind you, you'd be on the floor right now.

His eyes roamed your disheveled body hungrily, possessively. He backed up towards the bed, taking off his shirt as he went. He sat down on the edge, eyes still glued to your body. "Come here."

You did as he asked, too afraid to disobey him.

"Strip."

You started to remove your clothes quickly, but his gravelly voice stopped you. "Slower."

You very slowly removed each article of clothing until you were completely bare. While you'd been naked hundreds of times in front of Dean, this time was different. You felt self-conscious under his hard gaze, afraid he wouldn't like what he saw.

He seemed to sense your discomfort, and to your surprise he assuaged it instantly. "Becoming a demon didn't make me stop loving that body of yours, sweetheart. It's still my favorite thing in the world."

You relaxed instantly, feeling pleased that he liked your body so much. A soft voice in the back of your mind pointed out he'd said your body was his favorite, not you--but you pushed that thought aside for the sake of your heart.

He spread his legs wide and leaned back on his hands, appreciative gaze roaming your exposed flesh. "Now, show me how you like your pretty pussy to be touched."

You bit your lip, keeping your eyes locked on his face as you slid one hand to your breasts and the other to your aching pussy. Dean's eyes watched as you slipped your fingers between your folds, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

You toyed with your clit gently, little moans and whimpers filling the room. You watched as Dean removed his belt and stood up to take off his jeans and underwear. When you finally got a good view of his cock you moaned a little louder, and his eyes flicked up to your face. He smirked when he realized what had caused that noise to come out of your mouth.

He stepped towards you, gripping his large cock firmly in his dominant hand, stroking it slowly. Your own hand had slowed nearly to a stop, but Dean wouldn't have any of that. "Did I say you could stop?"

You quickly sped back up, wanting to please him with an unhealthy level of desperation.

"You're such a good girl for me. My little slut," he said lowly. "Saw the way you looked at my cock, baby--bet you want it in your mouth."

You nodded rapidly.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. "On your knees."

You dropped to your knees instantly, ready and willing to give him want he asked for.

"Open your mouth. Now."

Your mouth opened obediently, waiting for his next move.

"You gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?"

You nodded eagerly.

"So fucking sexy like this," he murmured. "Gonna make you choke on my cock."

He gave no further warning before grabbing the back of your head and tugging you down onto his cock. You gagged as his large member slammed into the back of your throat, a burning sensation accompanying it.

His hips moved rapidly as he fucked your face harshly--it was as if you were an inanimate object, only there to give him pleasure.

This level of roughness was new for you, and you were surprised to find how much you were enjoying it. Your eyes watered, spit dribbled down your jaw, and your pussy dripped.

The ache was almost unbearable, so you slipped a hand between your legs to provide yourself some relief.

Dean's observant gaze saw the action and he grinned. "Such a dirty little slut aren't you? Getting off on sucking my cock."

You moaned around him, pulling a surprised groan from deep in his throat. He gripped your head tighter, thrusts speeding up. "Fuck--love this mouth," he ground out.

The force of his thrusts made you pause your own ministrations, attention focused solely on the intensity of his motions. You gripped his strong thighs tightly, nails digging into the soft flesh.

"Oh fuck yes--gonna cum in this sweet little mouth, baby."

You moaned in response.

"Yeah? You want that? Want me to cum down your throat?"

You moaned again and tried to nod.

"How could I deny my little slut?" His grip tightened even further on your head, pulling your hair painfully. With one final thrust, he spilled his load into your mouth, hot ropes of cum filling your throat.

You swallowed every drop he gave you, knowing he'd certainly punish you if even a single drop left your mouth.

Even Dean had to admit, he hadn't had an orgasm that good since he'd become a demon--and watching you swallow all of his cum like that had him wanting more. "Greedy, are we?"

You licked your lips as you looked up at him. "I can't help it. You just taste so good."

He was taken aback by your statement, cock twitching in response. Perks of being a demon, he thought to himself. Already ready for round two. "On the bed, feet off the end."

You got up and laid down on the bed, face up. You weren't moving quickly enough for Dean, so he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you towards him. Your ass was now hanging off the bed slightly and your pussy was at the perfect height for him to enjoy from his knees.

There was something incredibly thrilling about seeing Dean on his knees for you. While it wasn't the first time, you doubted demon Dean was the kind of man who'd get on his knees for anyone.

"Now I'm gonna eat this pretty pussy of yours until I get my fill, understand? If you try to stop me, you will be punished."

"Yes, Dean."

"Good girl," he mumbled. He spread your legs as wide as they would go and breathed deeply. He licked his lips subconsciously before diving into you.

As always, Dean knew exactly what to do to drive you wild--he'd learned how to read your body years ago. His tongue felt incredible, large and flat, licking from the bottom of your pussy to the top, giving your clit a gentle flick, then repeating.

You shifted your hips, trying to get him to speed up, which he ignored. Instead, he laid his arm across your lower belly, holding you in place so he could continue his work.

After several more moments of this agonizing pace, he finally relented, lips wrapping around your clit to suck it into his mouth. You cried out in pleasure, legs already beginning to shake.

His motions were rhythmic, sucking your clit and licking it intermittently, as if he couldn't decide which one he preferred. As your moans grew in intensity, he knew you were getting closer. He had plans for you this evening--and your first orgasm of the night was going to be from his mouth and nothing else.

Your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were desperately trying to grind yourself against his face, but his arm prevented you from moving. He switched to focus all of his attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue at an insane rate of speed.

You cried out as you came, the orgasm breathtaking in its intensity and pleasure. Dean worked you through the high, but didn't make any signs of stopping.

You remembered his words from earlier, so you kept your mouth shut even though the sensitivity was overwhelming.

When he felt your body begin to relax and the soft moans began to leave your lips again, he slowed his pace way down. He wanted to take his time now, enjoying your taste and the sweet sounds you made for him.

He slid two of his fingers into you, pressing gently against your g-spot before sliding them back out. His tongue laved at your clit, moans of his own giving it the slightest vibrations.

When your pussy started clenching tightly around his fingers and your breathing had become more labored, he sped up. He sucked and licked at your clit, nipping ever so gently at the hood, causing you to yelp softly.

Your fingers had once again found their way to his hair and you were holding on for dear life. You felt your orgasm building--it was so close. You voiced as much to Dean, even though he was already very aware.

You were just about to reach your peak when Dean suddenly slowed down--to an agonizingly slow pace.

"No, no, no--please!" you begged.

Dean ignored your pleas, opting to focus on his activities instead. He sped up just a tiny bit, building your orgasm back up.

The louder your moans became, the faster Dean went. Your orgasm was approaching once again and you begged Dean not to stop.

You were a second away from your orgasm when Dean once again slowed his motions. You cried out in anguish as the blissful feeling faded away.

"Please, Dean," you whimpered.

He lifted his head slightly, fingers still moving very slowly against your g-spot. "I'm not done with this pussy yet. Tastes too good for me to stop."

"But I need to cum," you cried.

"You'll cum when I let you cum," he said harshly.

His mouth dropped back to your pussy, focus once again on enjoying his feast.

Dean did this two more times--denying you an orgasm mere seconds before one was to occur. By this point, you were crying and begging him to just let you cum--you couldn't stand the ache any longer.

Dean decided he had listened to your babbling pleas for long enough. He pulled away from you, leaving you whimpering shamefully.

Dean laid down on the bed beside you. "Get up here. I'm not finished yet."

You were confused, so you didn't move fast enough for him. He smacked your breast harshly and you yelped in pain.

"I said, get up here. Now."

"I don't understand," you whimpered.

Dean sighed in exasperation. "Sit on my face so I can eat you properly."

It's not like you hadn't done this with him before. It was something you'd always known Dean enjoyed, but your brain was so fuzzy with need, it hadn't even crossed your mind.

You pulled yourself up and straddled his head. He didn't wait for you to sit down, he simply grabbed your hips and tugged you down to his waiting mouth.

You moaned in pleasure instantly, the sound spurring him on. He knew you were in for an incredibly intense orgasm and he was dying to taste it--to feel you coat his mouth and face with your sweet juices.

He had you on the brink in an embarrassingly short amount of time, but you couldn't be bothered to feel any shame. You were grinding down on his face, using him for your own pleasure.

You prayed he wouldn't stop this time--the need to cum so overwhelming it was painful. You were gripping onto the headboard for support as you rode his face, moans slowly rising in pitch as you neared climax.

Dean's fingers dug into your upper thighs and hips so tightly there were sure to be bruises. He could tell you were close, so he sped up his motions, desperate for you to cum.

"Dean--I-I'm gonna--"

You finally came with a scream of his name--the sound so loud it likely woke the entire hotel. Your legs shook violently, the pleasure so blinding you nearly blacked out.

It wasn't until you felt someone lifting you and laying you on your back that you started to become aware of your surroundings again.

Dean watched you, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. He reached out and brushed your hair from your face where it had stuck to your sweaty skin. It was an oddly affectionate gesture for a demon.

He waited patiently for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings--come back down to earth, as it were. When your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his, you smiled, forgetting for a moment that he was anything but the man you loved.

"That was...in-incredible," you mumbled breathlessly.

He grinned. "Happy to be of service."

You smiled in return, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

Dean crawled on top of you, arms on either side of your body, ensuring you couldn't get away. "I'm no where near done with you yet."

"You give me another orgasm like that and you just might kill me."

He grinned wolfishly, eyes darkening with lust. "Oh sweetheart...you have no idea what I could do to you."

You weren't sure if it was a threat or a promise, but you were incredibly turned-on by it. Dean could see the rapid rise and fall of your chest beneath him...and he knew his words had the desired effect.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed it very gently between your folds. You inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"Do you want my cock?"

You nodded rapidly.

"Come on baby, I wanna hear you say it."

"I want your cock."

"Good girl," he murmured, repeating his earlier motion. "Now beg for it."

Your eyes widened and he gave you a warning look. You knew you had to beg or else. "I want your cock so badly."

"Mhmm."

"I need it."

"Keep going."

"I...I wanna feel you inside me."

"Come on, sweetheart," he chided. "I know you can do better than that."

"I want you to fuck me, Dean. Please--I need you."

He slipped the tip of his cock into you and you whimpered softly. "Give me a little more, baby."

"I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name," you begged. "I'll be so good for you--I promise."

He plunged into you without warning, sheathing himself deep in your warm, wet heat. "That's my good girl," he moaned.

He started to move slowly, in and out, each direction painfully slow. "My god have I missed this pussy," he said as if to himself.

You whined beneath him, hoping he'd get the hint and pick up the pace.

He looked down at your needy expression and smirked. "Patience, baby. I'll make those knees weak--don't you worry."

He leaned down to kiss you roughly, one hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he deepened the kiss. His thrusts started to speed up, matching the pace he'd set with his tongue in your mouth.

After several moments, he pulled himself up, grabbing your legs and putting one on each side of his head. The new position allowed him to hit that spot so deep inside you, you'd thought it was a myth until you met him.

He began to piston in and out of you, each thrust hard and fast. Each time he'd pull almost all the way out slowly before slamming back into you with force--cock brushing up against your cervix with each thrust.

It didn't take long before you were a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him. He loved seeing how fucked out you were--knowing that it was all because of him.

"Whose pussy is this?"

Your eyes shot open. "Yours!" you gasped.

"That's right, baby. Mine," he growled. "No one gets to touch you like this but me."

"No one," you confirmed breathlessly.

His eyes flashed black. "I'll kill anyone who even looks at you like he wants to fuck you."

You inhaled sharply. Dean had always been a very protective man--possessive even--but this was a whole new level. You had no doubt in your mind that he was completely serious. He would most certainly murder a man for daring to have so much as an unclean thought about you.

It probably shouldn't have turned you on, but it did--his possessive nature infinitely more intense now that he was a demon. Your pussy clenched down tightly around him, signaling how much you liked his words.

"That turns you on, huh? You like the thought of me owning you? Owning this pussy?"

"Yes!" you cried out as he continued to pound into you.

"Lucky for you, I'm never letting you go again," he growled. His thrusts were fast and hard, his focus on feeling you cum around his cock.

His words had an immediate effect on you, his possessiveness almost affectionate in that moment. It was exactly what you needed to fall over the edge with a low moan of his name.

"Fuck!" he groaned as he tried to maintain his speed. Your pussy was squeezing him so tightly he could barely move. "Jesus, baby--gotta stop squeezing me like that."

"Sorry," you whimpered, trying to relax your body.

Dean's hips began to move again and he leaned forward to kiss your jawline. "Don't apologize--not your fault this pussy feels so fuckin' good--made for me."

You gasped softly, skin flushing at his praise.

He pulled out of you without warning and roughly flipped you onto your stomach. His palm landed on your ass with a firm smack, causing you to jump slightly.

"Lift your hips," he ordered.

You did as he asked and he slid into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. He alternated between smacking your ass, pulling your hair, and gripping your hips so you couldn't move.

Your pussy pulsed and fluttered around his cock, the pleasure becoming unbearable. "Dean--s-so close," you moaned.

"I know--you're squeezing me so tight," he replied through gritted teeth. "But don't you dare cum until I give you permission."

"But, I--"

He grabbed you by the hair, tugging you up so your back was pressed against his chest. He nipped at your ear and pressed his hand firmly against your neck--not enough to hurt you, but enough for you to know he could.

His voice was low and demanding when he spoke again, "Be a good girl for me, (Y/N), and I won't have to hurt you. But if you disobey me, I will take everything I want and give you nothing, do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered breathily.

"Good." He released you suddenly, letting your body fall back onto the bed as he renewed his painful thrusts.

You used all of your concentration to focus on not cumming until he allowed you to, but the more time passed, the more painful it was not to orgasm.

"Dean, please--I-I can't t-take it," you cried.

"Yes you can, baby. You're already taking my cock so well."

"Ne-need to cum," you begged.

Dean thought about it for a moment and made a decision. His hips slowed and he leaned forward to speak close to your ear. "You can cum after I do."

You whimpered, head nodding your agreement.

Dean's hands gripped onto your hips, holding them in place as he pistoned in and out of you, chasing his own high. He heard your desperate whimpers and felt your pussy spasming around him, but all he cared about was his release.

His hips began to falter as pleasure licked up his spine moments before he came with a guttural groan, spilling his seed deep inside you.

The moment you felt his cum begin to fill you up, your own orgasm crashed into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

Dean worked you through your high before pulling out of you and letting you collapse on the bed. His large body hovered over yours as he pressed kisses into your heated skin.

His cock was still throbbing with need, despite having just had an incredible orgasm. He knew you were exhausted, but he hadn't had his fill of you yet.

He rolled you back over and slid inside of you, slowly bottoming out with a breathless moan. You whimpered at the sensation, pussy too sensitive and overstimulated for another round.

"No--no more, Dean, please."

"I warned you, sweetheart...told you I wanted to fuck you all night."

"It--it's too much."

He slowly slid out of you and slowly slid back in. "I know you can take it."

You shook your head. "I can't--"

Dean grabbed your wrists and pulled them over your head, holding them tightly in place with one hand. The motion forced him lower, making his body weight press firmly against you.

His lips brushed against yours and his voice was almost pained when he whispered, "I'll be gentle."

You saw the need in his mossy green eyes and your resolve crumbled. You supposed you could allow him at least one more orgasm. "Alright," you murmured.

He smiled at you before kissing you deeply, thoroughly enjoying the taste and feel of you. His thrusts were slow and measured, much more gentle than they'd been before.

To your surprise, the friction wasn't as painful as you'd expected. In fact, you found yourself enjoying the slow feeling of his cock dragging against your walls, the thick vein on the underside throbbing inside you.

He let go of your wrists to hold himself up a little, allowing him more room to move. His eyes traced your face as he fucked you, the action incredibly intimate despite the situation.

After several minutes of gentle thrusts, Dean pulled himself up into a sitting position and pulled you along with him. You weren't strong enough to hold yourself up properly, but he was more than capable of keeping your body where he wanted it.

He leaned back, lying flat against the bed, with you now straddling him. You put your hands on his chest for leverage as you began to ride him.

Dean let out a soft moan, which you echoed when he pulled your hips down flush against his so you couldn't move. He pressed his hand firmly against your lower belly and you gasped in pleasure.

"You feel that, baby? Feel my cock so deep inside you? Feels so fuckin' good."

You nodded rapidly, not trusting your voice to actually speak.

Dean released your hips so you could move again, but his eyes didn't leave your body. "You look so fuckin' sexy riding me. Could stare at ya all night."

You blushed deeply, gaze pulling away from his bashfully.

He reached up and touched your cheek, pulling your face back towards him. "I like looking at you."

You bit your lip, but didn't turn away. Having demon Dean compliment you felt so incredibly different than what you were used to. It almost felt wrong to appreciate his words and his gaze--as if you were cheating on your husband. You knew you weren't really, but it still felt wrong.

After several more moments, Dean tired of the slowness of the pace. He grabbed you and pulled you down to him, wrapping his arms around you to hold you tightly. He planted his feet and began to piston up into you, sending shock waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

He loved the wrecked sounds coming from your mouth as he fucked up into you. He knew his current angle would hit your sweet spot with each thrust--and he knew you wouldn't be able to avoid another orgasm.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to feel you cum all over his cock again--the sensation was almost as incredible as his own orgasm. He found himself craving it with a desperation he didn't want to dive too deeply into.

"I know you're close, sweetheart," he murmured. "I can feel it--know you wanna cum around my cock."

Your moans and whimpers were all the confirmation he needed.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Please," was all you could manage to say.

"Cum for me."

His command sent you over the edge with shocking ease. You weren't certain you even had it in you to cum again, and the intensity of the orgasm surprised you.

Dean held on tightly as your body shook, your pussy clenching and unclenching around him as you squirted all over his lower body.

"Holy fuck, you're sexy," he groaned, an intense feeling of pride surging through his veins. He'd made you squirt before, but every single time felt like a gold fucking medal to him.

His thrusts became more sloppy as his own orgasm neared. He was so close he could practically taste it, but it was your aftershocks that finally had him exploding inside of you. He stopped moving, holding you tight to him as he emptied deep in your pussy.

He carefully rolled you over onto your back before sliding out of you. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness, which made his chest swell with pride.

"Spread those pretty legs for me, baby--spread 'em nice and wide," he murmured, large hand gently rubbing your thighs. "Spread yourself open--wanna watch my cum leaking out of you."

You did as he asked, surprised to find yourself so turned-on by his request. You watched him stare at the apex of your thighs, your mixed spends dripping from your abused hole.

He licked his lips, gaze flickering back up to yours. "You're the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You inhaled sharply, pleased by his praise. "Come here," you whispered, reaching for him.

You were surprised when he actually complied, crawling up your body and placing a soft kiss on to your lips, allowing you to run your hands through his hair affectionately.

After a few moments, Dean pulled away. "Why don't you get a little rest? You'll need your strength."

You looked at him in shock. "Strength for what?"

"You didn't think we were done, did you?"

"Dean, you can't possibly be serious!"

His eyes flashed black, reminding you exactly who and what you were dealing with. "I'm deadly serious."

You exhaled shakily as it finally dawned on you that you had no control over your current situation. Dean could do anything he wanted to you and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do about it.

But that wasn't the concerning part. The concerning part was how little fear you felt. The idea of him being completely in control felt like a good thing...and that was what really scared you.

**********

You awoke several hours later to the feeling of Dean's rough hands on your soft skin. You were lying on your side, with him directly behind you. It had been a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but it seemed Dean now had a different idea.

You felt his cock tease your pussy and you whimpered softly.

"Need you just one more time," Dean murmured in your ear as he slid into you. He held you tightly against him, still spooning you as he began his gentle thrusts.

"Focus on how my cock feels in that tight little pussy of yours," he instructed. "I know you're sore, baby, but I'm gonna make you feel so good."

You'd lost count of the number of orgasms you'd had somewhere after the 7th one. You hadn't even known it was possible for the human body to have that many. Dean was right--you were sore, too sore to move, in fact.

"I've got you," he murmured, pressing his lips into your shoulder.

The intimacy of the moment surprised you and you weren't sure why Dean was being so soft. You leaned back into him, feeling the taunt muscles of his abdomen flex against you.

He took the movement as permission to continue what he was doing. He slid his hand farther down your body, slipping it between your legs to rub light circles on your swollen clit.

You gasped softly, nails digging into the flesh of his arm.

Dean shushed you gently. "Let me make you feel good--just relax."

You tried to do as he said, willing your overstimulated body to stop tensing.

As Dean continued his gentle thrusts and soft touches, you began to feel the familiar tightening deep in your abdomen. You focused on the feeling, on the need for a release as it rose within you.

"You're doing so good for me," Dean praised. "So sexy--with this fucking perfect pussy. Could stay here forever."

His murmured words of praise went straight to your core, causing it to tighten around him. He moaned softly, continuing his movements.

"Dean," you whispered. "I'm close."

He pressed his lips into your shoulder. "Let go for me, baby. I've got you."

For a moment--just a moment--you felt like you were making love to your Dean. The feeling was fleeting, but it gave you hope, even as it ripped your heart to pieces.

He knew exactly what to do to send your body into overdrive--he'd always known. He had you falling apart in minutes, soft cries of pleasure slipping past your tired lips.

"That's it, baby," Dean groaned. "Gonna fill you up."

Dean came for a final time, deep inside you. You'd lost track of his orgasms long before you'd lost track of your own.

He whispered your name softly, lips brushing against your skin sweetly.

He didn't pull out, but his cock finally began to soften--having reached the limit even for a demon.

After several minutes, he allowed you to pull away from him. You rolled over and quickly fell asleep, too exhausted to even exist for a moment longer.

**********

When you finally woke up, you weren't sure how much time had passed. Your entire body was sore, a dull ache from your head to your toes.

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, glancing beside you to the empty bed. Your eyes flitted around the room, seeking any sign of Dean. His clothes were still strewn all over the floor, along with yours, but he could very well have put on fresh clothes.

You weakly pulled yourself out of the bed and slowly made your way to the bathroom, bladder pulsating painfully. After using the bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to revive yourself even a little.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror, taking in the various marks and bruises littering your skin. You would typically wear such marks like a badge of honor, but in this moment, you only felt shame.

You'd had explosive sex with a demon--not just any demon, a demon that used to be your husband. Your heart clenched as images flashing through your mind. You'd loved it in the moment, but now you felt incredibly guilty.

You couldn't help but wonder what Dean would think of you if you were able to make him human again. You were scared he'd be upset with you--ashamed even.

The sound of the hotel room door opening shook you from your thoughts. You grabbed the robe hanging on a hook in the bathroom and threw it on quickly, barely covering yourself before Dean came into view.

"Hey sweetheart," he said with a smile. "I brought food."

Surprise lit up your face as you stared at him. You hadn't been certain he'd come back, let alone bring you food. "Oh, umm...thank you."

He nodded and placed the bags on the small table. "You wanna take a shower first or eat first?"

You were still in shock from his behavior, but you managed to mumble, "Shower." You closed the door slowly and started the shower, but you didn't get in.

You took a moment to try and collect yourself, but you found it nearly impossible to relax. You sighed and dropped the robe from your body before stepping under the hot spray.

The calming feeling of the water washing over you brought you some relief--as if it was washing away your sins. It also gave you some clarity.

At the end of the day, he was still Dean--and you desperately wanted him back. If this was the only way to do it, then you just had to suck it up and do what needed to be done. If necessary, you'd beg for forgiveness later.

When you got out of the shower Dean was waiting for you at the table. You'd thrown the robe back on, having no other clothes with you.

You offered him a smile before going towards where your undergarments lay near the bed. You also picked up your jeans, but your shirt was completely ruined.

Dean's keen eyes followed you around the room, watching in silence. When you made it to the door where the remnants of your shirt lay, Dean chuckled lightly. "Why don't you wear one of mine, sweetheart?"

You held up the ripped fabric. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

He smiled and stood up, grabbing a clean flannel out of the duffle on the floor. He handed it to you and waited--as if he expected you to say something.

You looked down at the flannel in your hand and inhaled sharply. It was your favorite flannel of his--green and black in color, and incredibly soft from all the washes it had endured.

He saw the moment you recognized the shirt and he suddenly felt oddly nervous--he wanted you to be happy, as silly as that might be for a demon.

"I'll just go throw these on," you whispered.

Dean just nodded as you walked past him to the bathroom. You came out a few minutes later, fully clothed.

He let out a soft sound you could only describe as a low growl. "I love it when you wear my clothes."

You blushed. "You always did find it sexy."

He grinned darkly and took a step towards you, but you shook your head gently.

"My entire body is sore, Dean."

He pouted. "A kiss at least?"

You sighed. "Fine."

He leaned down to kiss you with shocking gentleness. It warmed you from the inside out.

"See? I can be gentle," Dean said with a smirk.

"Interesting for a demon," you mumbled, sitting down at the table.

You missed the look of hurt that crossed Dean's face at your words. He sat at the table across from you, expression impassive.

You started to eat, quickly discovering how hungry you really were. Dean watched you quietly, not particularly hungry himself. He noticed some marks on your exposed collarbone and throat and he felt an odd feeling in his chest. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn't quite place the feeling.

"Dean?" you asked softly.

His eyes refocused on your face. "Hmm?"

"I know what you're going to say, but will you please come back with me? Just--Just come home, Dean--please." You were more than ready to beg, but you found you didn't need to.

"Alright."

You'd opened your mouth for a rebuttal, but his voice stopped you--"What?"

"I'll come back with you."

Your face was a mixture of surprise and confusion. "I, uhh--I was expecting to have to beg you."

"No need," he commented. "After last night, I have no desire to be anywhere else."

"Anywhere else?"

"Perhaps I should have said with anyone else."

"Ahh. I see." Your heart fluttered slightly, even though the words came from a demon.

"So yes, I'll go back home with you...on one condition."

Your heart began to beat faster as you waited for him to continue.

"Under no circumstances will you ever force me to become human."

Your chest ached at his words, your eyes fluttered closed, and your breath exhaled slowly. Dean knew what he was asking of you--knew it was a lot deeper than a simple promise. "Don't make me promise that," you whispered.

Dean's eyes flicked to black and his expression hardened. "Promise me or leave. The choice is yours."

It felt as though time slowed around you. You had never once broken a promise to Dean--never. He knew you prided yourself on that--he knew you would never break one. You couldn't find it in yourself to betray him, even now.

"I have one condition of my own."

Dean raised a single eyebrow.

"I will make you that promise, if you give me the First Blade."

It was Dean's turn to be surprised. "Why?"

"You know why."

His eyes flicked back to green, but he looked annoyed. "And if I don't give it up?"

"Then I leave."

Dean weighed his options in silence. After a few moments, he got up and crossed the room towards the door where his jacket hung. He reached into the inside pocket and pulled out the First Blade.

You inhaled sharply, a ripple of fear surging through you.

He crossed the short distance back to you, placing the Blade on the table in front of you. You reached out for it, but his hand snapped forward and grabbed your arm.

"Do we have a deal?"

You exhaled heavily. "We have a deal."

"Say it."

"I promise I will never force you to become human again," you whispered.

He released your arm and smirked. He was obviously pleased with himself, even as you quite clearly ached from making such a promise.

You pulled the Blade towards you, keeping it as close to you as you could. You needed to call Crowley to come get the damn thing as soon as possible--you wanted it as far away from Dean as possible.

“Maybe we can leave when I’m done eating?”

Dean just nodded. “Better not tell Sam until we get there.”

You couldn't have told him even if you'd wanted to, given that Crowley had broken your phone, so you simply nodded your agreement.

Dean watched you in silence while you finished eating, his face completely unreadable. You were worried about what Dean was planning, but you were more worried about Sam's reaction to all of this.

**********

The drive back to the bunker was uneventful. Dean drove straight through the night, no need for sleep. You were still tired from your antics the day before, so you slept for a large portion of the drive.

Dean woke you 10 minutes before arrival. "How pissed you think Sammy's gonna be?" he asked.

"You left him to die, Dean--he's probably not gonna be excited to see you."

Dean shrugged. "I mean, he didn't die though."

You shot him a glare and he laughed. "It's not funny, Winchester."

"It's not, not funny."

You sighed. "Just let me do the talking, okay? He's not pissed at me."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "He's gonna be."

"Either way," you mumbled. "Just let me handle it."

"Fine."

Dean pulled in to the underground garage and you both got out of the car. You weren't sure if Sam would even be there--you hadn't spoken to him in a couple days. For all you knew, he could have been kidnapped a second time--or maybe he thought you were the one missing.

As you entered into the bunker properly, you found it very quiet and very empty.

"Looks like nobody's home," Dean commented.

"Sam's probably worried about me--god only knows where he is," you muttered. You turned to Dean. "Let me borrow your phone."

He eyed you warily. "What happened to yours?"

"Crowley broke it."

Dean's eyes narrowed, flashing black aggressively. "He what?"

"Easy there killer--he broke my phone, not me."

"I'll kill him."

"Get in line," you mumbled as you stuck out your hand. "Phone, please."

He handed you his phone and you immediately dialed the familiar number. Sam answered on the second ring, hope and surprise in his voice, "Dean?"

"No, it's me."

You heard relief in his voice when he spoke again. "Where the hell are you? Are you okay? I was seriously worried--" he paused, seemingly remembering whose phone you were using. "Are you with Dean?"

Dean leaned in over your shoulder to speak into the phone. "Hiya, Sammy."

You elbowed Dean lightly. "I'm fine, Sam, and yes, I'm with Dean."

"How--?"

"Crowley."

"Why the hell didn't you call me?"

"Also, Crowley. He busted my phone--hence why I'm using Dean's."

"Are you--are you safe?"

You looked over at Dean and sighed. "Yeah, I'm safe."

Sam sighed in relief. "Where are you--I'll come get you."

"We're, uhh--we're actually back home."

"What?"

"We're at the bunker."

"How the hell did you convince him to come back with you?"

"We can talk about that when you get here. Just come home."

"I'm on my way."

You hung up the phone and handed it back to Dean, who gave you a hungry look.

"So...what should we do while we're waiting?"

"I know you're a demon, but I'm not," you said lightly. "I'm still sore."

"Aww c'mon, sweetheart," Dean pouted slightly. "I'll be gentle."

You shook your head with a small smile. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I was gentle yesterday morning, wasn't I?"

"After several orgasms and some very rough sex."

"I thought you enjoyed that," he said lowly, stepping closer to you.

You blushed, taking a step back. "I--I did."

He grinned predatorily. "I can make it very good for you, baby."

You felt a rush of arousal flood your body as he took another step towards you, backing you up against the large table behind you.

He breathed deeply and his eyes flashed black. "I can smell your desire."

You exhaled shakily.

Dean leaned forward, pinning you against the table. He placed one arm on the table and the other very lightly against your throat. "How 'bout I take you right here?"

You weren't opposed to the idea, but you weren't sure exactly how far away Sam was. "What if Sam comes back?"

Dean shrugged. "Then we'll give him a show."

You smacked his chest affectionately. "We will not."

"Then I guess you better hope he doesn't come back while I'm fucking you senseless."

You gasped and Dean leaned down, pressing his lips hungrily against yours. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion, fingers digging into his back to pull him closer to you.

You felt Dean's fingers brush against your chest and you pulled back immediately. "Wait!"

Surprise lit up his face and he released you instantly. "What's wrong?"

"This is my favorite flannel--you are not going to rip it."

Dean laughed heartily. "My apologies, sweetheart. You can take it off yourself then."

You quickly unbuttoned it and slid it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor nearby. You looked back up at him, a sultry smile on your face. "You may continue."

"Oh, I will." Dean gripped the front of your bra and tore it directly down the center, revealing your heaving breasts to him.

You gasped at the action, but it quickly turned to a moan as his hands began to massage your breasts and pinch your nipples harshly.

Your hips instinctively jutted forward, seeking his body for some relief. Dean immediately noticed, pressing his body firmly against yours, knee sliding between your legs to apply pressure against your core.

You ground yourself down on his knee and groaned softly. You repeated the action, the friction giving you pleasure.

"That's it, pretty girl," Dean growled lowly. "Get yourself off my thigh."

You continued your motions, but it just wasn't enough to get you to your peak. You whimpered softly and Dean chuckled darkly.

"Not enough for you, baby? Need me to help you?"

"Please," you begged.

He made quick work of removing your jeans, but instead of removing your underwear, he simply ripped them right off, practically shredding the lace.

Dean slipped two of his fingers between your legs and plunged them into your core. You gasped and clenched tightly around him.

"Fuck, sweetheart--you're fuckin' soaked," Dean groaned into your neck, fingers thrusting in and out of you hastily. "So damn tight too."

You whined softly as he pulled his fingers out and slipped them into his mouth, sucking them clean. He gripped your hips tightly and lifted you to place you on the table properly.

You wrapped your legs tightly around him and pulled him in closely, desperately wanting to feel him against your skin. You tugged at his shirt, which he quickly removed.

Your fingers grasped at his belt, but he smacked your hand away. He said nothing as he dropped to his knees and tugged your hips forward.

"Spread those legs for me."

You did as he asked, spreading your legs as wide as you could. You waited for him to touch you, but he made no moves to do so. "Dean?" you asked softly, slight desperation in your voice.

His eyes raised up to meet yours, a dark expression on his face. "Touch yourself."

"What?" you asked in quiet confusion.

"You want some relief? Touch yourself."

You supported yourself on one arm while you moved the other between your legs. You were mortified by the wetness dripping down your folds, but you collected some before sliding your fingers between your labia.

Dean watched with dark, hungry eyes as you played with your clit, soft whimpers of enjoyment slipping from your lips.

"Spread yourself open so I can see," he demanded.

You did as he asked, using your other hand to spread yourself, giving him a proper view of your aching pussy.

"Fuck," he muttered beneath his breath. "Keep going."

Your fingers immediately went back to rubbing your clit, desperate to feel that tightening in your core--knowing the pleasure it would bring.

Dean's large hands splayed on your thighs, massaging them gently as he watched, eyes glued to your movements.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he leaned forward and licked into your pussy, making you shiver with anticipation. You moved your hand away and he slapped your pussy harshly, causing you to yelp.

"Did I fucking say you could stop?" he growled, eyes flashing black.

You inhaled sharply and shook your head, fingers immediately returning to your core. You wouldn't admit it to him, but you liked this dark side of him--he would never have let it come out like this if he were human. He was too afraid to hurt you--too protective to even consider it. You hadn't known how much you'd enjoy it until now...and you just had to hope Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean's tongue lapped lazily between your folds as you continued to massage your clit. Every time you felt the pressure begin to build in your gut, your fingers would instinctively speed up. Each time they sped up, Dean would pull your hand away, keeping your orgasm just out of reach.

After several minutes of this, Dean's control had begun to wane. When your fingers sped up, he once again removed your hand, only this time he replaced it with his mouth. You felt his tongue dance across your clit in the most pleasurable way, fingers entwining themselves in his hair.

Your hips bucked up towards his mouth, but he didn't relent. Even as you screamed his name and your juices began to gush, he kept his mouth on you, drinking up everything you gave him. It wasn't until you'd collapsed back onto the table that he finally pulled away and stood back up, licking his lips in satisfaction.

Your breathing was ragged and your vision was slightly blurred as you looked at him, waiting for him to make his next move. He quickly shed his jeans and boxers, tossing them out of the way before taking his cock into his hand.

He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly as he stroked himself, appreciating how fucked out you already looked. "I need you to sit up, sweetheart." His words sounded soft, but his voice was demanding.

You managed to slowly pull yourself into a sitting position, grabbing onto his muscular arms for support. He teased your entrance with his cock and you whimpered softly.

"Lean back on your hands," he murmured lowly.

You did as he asked, the angle allowing him better access to your pussy. He slipped the head of his cock between your folds and slowly began to push forward until he was completely sheathed inside you.

The feeling of fullness had you gasping softly, head tilted back as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean tugged you even closer by your hips so he could get even deeper. You cried out in pain as his first thrust hit your cervix, but Dean didn't seem to notice. His hips snapped forward repeatedly, each thrust threatening to send you flying across the table if not for his death grip on your hips.

The pain soon gave way to pleasure, the room filling with the sounds of your mixed moans, the slapping of skin, and the sounds of your slickness as he fucked you.

He snaked one hand around your back to pull you even closer to him, practically holding you as he kept his pace. Your legs had begun to shake and your arms were weakening--but you knew your orgasm was near.

"Harder," you whimpered, surprising him.

He growled. "You like it when I fuck you like a little slut, don't you?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

His hips moved impossibly faster, the thrusts harder than before.

"Don't stop!" you pleaded.

"I wouldn't dare." He kept the pace as steady as he could, even as he felt his own orgasm rising.

"Please, please, please," you rambled. "S-so close!"

Dean's hand wrapped around your throat, pressing lightly against it. "Cum for me, pretty girl," he growled.

"More!"

He tightened his grip on your throat, but not enough to hurt you. It was all you needed to push you over the edge and into bliss. You cried out as you came, the intensity of your orgasm sparking his own.

He shouted your name in surprise as hot spurts of cum filled you. His thrusts began to slow, but his grip on your body didn't lessen. He held on tightly as you both came down from your highs.

He roughly tugged you forward and off the table. You weren't stable enough to stand, but that didn't matter to him. He spun you around and forced your upper body down onto the table, spreading your legs with one of his.

His cock was already hard again and he plunged into you without warning, earning a cry from your lips.

"Fuck, this pussy is so good for me," he groaned. "I just wanna fuck you until you can't move."

"Dean!" you whimpered, body overly sensitive already.

Once again, his grip on your hips was bruising and his thrusts were almost painful in their depth and intensity. The only thing keeping you upright was the table beneath you, your legs no better than wet noodles.

"You look so fuckin' sexy like this--spread for me, pussy leaking my cum, fuckin' moaning so pretty...fuck." His thrusts sped up, making you cry out.

"Need--shit--need you to cum again, baby."

"I-I c-can't!"

"Yes you can--you've been so good for me. Just give me one more."

Tears welled in your eyes--your body ached horribly, but you wanted to please him so badly. Your hips and thighs hurt from his grip and the force of his thrusts pressing you into the table, but you tried to block all of that from your mind. You focused on the pleasurable feeling of his cock, desperate to give him what he wanted.

"I-I need more," you whimpered.

His hand immediately slipped around to your front and began to rub tight circles to your clit. The sensation nearly pushed you over the edge with how sensitive you were.

"Come on, sweetheart, I can tell you're close."

You moaned in response, focus entirely on reaching your high.

His finger moved faster, the friction sending you into overdrive. You screamed and your nails scratched against the wood as you desperately searched for something to cling to--something to ground you.

"Fuck, yes--that's it. Cum for me, baby."

You screamed again as you came--the pleasure so blinding you passed out for a few moments. When you came to, he was chasing his own high--thrusts becoming more sloppy by the second.

"G-gonna fill you u-up," he ground out, hands tightening on your hips painfully.

Two more thrusts and he was spilling inside of you, hips stuttering as he emptied his seed deep within you. He leaned forward, pressing you even farther into the table, his lips gently caressing your back.

Once he'd regained his breath--and his strength--he pulled out of you and stood up. You nearly slid off the table and onto the floor, but he caught you.

"Woah there--I've got you."

He scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom the two of you shared. He laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness before climbing onto the bed with you.

"No--no more--please," you begged.

"Easy, sweetheart," he purred softly. "I know you're tired--I just wanna be inside of you."

He laid you on your side and he slid up into you, forcing some of his cum back into your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, but even you had to admit you enjoyed the feeling.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you and pulled you close. "Go to sleep, baby. I've got you."

His tone was almost loving--if you didn't know better, you would have thought it was. You were too weak and tired to dwell on it, instead drifting off to sleep with unsurprising ease.

**********

Sam rushed into the bunker like a bat outta hell. He wanted to trust that his brother would never hurt you, but he worried for your safety. Dean was a knight of hell after all.

When he properly entered the war room, he froze. His eyes went to the clothing strewn about the space--a mixture of your's and Dean's. Out of all the things he'd expected, this had not been on the list. He couldn't believe you would be that foolish.

"(Y/N)? Dean?" he called as he walked farther into the bunker.

There was no response, so he made his way to where your bedroom was. The door was shut, so he knocked loudly.

You jolted awake at the loud banging, the movement making Dean moan softly. Somehow he was still hard and buried inside of you--where he'd been for however long you'd been asleep.

"(Y/N)? You in there?" Sam's voice called from the other side of the door.

Dean groaned in annoyance, but you answered anyway. "Yeah--just, uh...give us a minute."

"You coulda told him to go away," Dean mumbled into your shoulder.

"We'd just be delaying the inevitable."

He sighed and slowly removed himself from you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. He grinned and leaned down over you, kissing you softly. "Don't worry, we can do it again later."

You kissed him back, before giving him a light push against his chest. "I need clothes."

You dragged yourself out of bed and moved around the room, throwing various items of clothing on to make yourself decent. You wanted a shower, but that would have to wait until after you'd talked to Sam.

Dean watched you from his place in the bed, not making a move to get dressed himself.

"You coming?" you asked.

"I'll give you a head start," he answered. "You can talk to Sam alone."

You nodded. "Alright."

You exited the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Sam was standing at the end of the hall near the entrance to the library. The look he gave you told you exactly what kind of mood he was in. He disappeared into the library and you followed shortly after.

"Sam, I can explain--"

"Explain? Really? You wanna explain why you're sleeping with demon Dean?"

"Oh like you can talk," you shot back. "You slept with a demon several times--and she tried to destroy the world."

Sam's eyes narrowed, but he knew you were right.

"Besides, he's still Dean...just a demon," you mumbled.

"Fine," Sam said with a sigh. "Is that how you convinced him to come back with you?"

You averted your gaze and bit your lip lightly. "Not exactly."

"(Y/N)...what did you do?"

"What I had to do."

"(Y/N)."

"I, uh--I made him a promise."

Sam's face paled slightly. "What did you promise him?"

You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. "I told him I wouldn't force him to become human again."

"You what?" Sam yelled. "You can't possibly keep that promise."

"I have to, Sam. I've never betrayed Dean before and I sure as hell won't start now."

"Are you kidding me? He's a demon, (Y/N)! A monster! The kind of thing he's loathed for his entire life--you really think he wants this?"

"Of course I don't!" you yelled back. "Do you really think I want my husband to be a demon forever? This was the only way to get him to agree to come back here with me. I don't regret making this promise and I would do it again if I had to!"

"So you'll break it?" Sam asked again, voice still raised.

"No," you answered firmly. "I can't."

"How could you be so stupid, (Y/N)?" Sam yelled harshly. "This is the dumbest goddamn thing you've ever done!"

Dean appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wedging himself between you and Sam. He pushed Sam back aggressively, eyes flashing to black. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "Don't you ever speak to her like that again, or you won't make it to see another sunrise."

"Dean!" you cried, stepping forward to place a calming hand on his arm. "It's alright--I'm fine."

Dean ignored you, black eyes still trained on his brother's face. "Do you understand me?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"Apologize."

"Dean, that's not necessary," you tried.

He held up his hand to silence you. "Apologize."

Sam swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright, Sam."

"Don't do it again," Dean seethed.

"Dean," you murmured softly. "We're good--I'm good."

He finally relaxed his shoulders and took a step back. His eyes flicked back to green and he turned to look at you. He seemed to scan you, checking to make sure you really were okay.

"I'm fine," you mouthed.

He nodded, finally believing you. He turned back to his brother. "Now you gonna play nice and adhere to (Y/N/N)'s promise?"

"I don't like it," Sam responded. "But fine."

Dean grinned. "Excellent. Otherwise we'd have quite a problem on our hands."

You exchanged glances between the two men and worried they would have some sort of fight sooner than later. You knew you needed to get the First Blade to Crowley before something terrible happened.

"Sam, can I borrow your phone for a moment?" you asked suddenly.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. Dean eyed you warily, wondering what you were up to.

"Just gonna make a quick call...outside," you mumbled.

You practically ran towards the steps, taking two at a time to get out of there before someone asked too many questions. You called Crowley as soon as the bunker door closed behind you.

"Mrs. Squirrel," Crowley answered by way of greeting.

You rolled your eyes, opting not to comment on the annoying nickname. "I have the Blade."

"Where?"

"The Bunker."

He appeared a few feet away from you and you hung up your phone. You gestured for him to follow you down towards the garage.

"Stay here," you insisted, before entering the garage as quietly as possible.

You went straight for Baby, popping the trunk to retrieve the First Blade from the demon-proof box you'd placed it in. You made your way back outside quickly, not wanting to alert Dean to your movements.

"Take it," you demanded, holding it out to Crowley. "And for the love of god, hide it--put it somewhere Dean will never find it."

"I can assure you, it will be hidden well."

"Good. Now get the hell outta here before I change my mind about killing you."

Crowley smirked mirthlessly. "With pleasure."

He disappeared, taking the First Blade with him. Relief flooded your body and you turned to make your way back into the bunker, hoping to find both men in one piece.

**********

It had been a week since you and Dean had returned to the bunker. As the week went on, Dean's anger and aggression became more and more noticeable.

He hadn't said anything to you, but you knew Dean was jonesing for a kill. You could tell by the way he'd react to things--even the slightest of annoyances would have him reacting violently.

The other indicator came out in Dean's sexual desires. He wanted you almost constantly, regardless of where you were, who else was around, or what was going on. While that alone wasn't problematic, what was concerning was his increasing aggression during sex--and if he didn't get what he wanted immediately.

There wasn't a single inch of your skin he hadn't marked in some way, and you were beyond exhausted. The one time you'd dared to say no to him, resulted in him punching a dent into a metal wall--an action that frightened you. You still didn't think he would hurt you, but you weren't willing to risk it.

Sam had begun to notice as well, especially as it pertained to the marks on your skin. Dean no longer cared about hiding them and makeup wasn't cutting it anymore.

Sam's gaze was on you as you entered the library one morning, limping slightly.

"You know, I'm really starting to worry about you," Sam said quietly.

"I'm alright," you lied as you lowered yourself into a chair, wincing in discomfort.

"Right," Sam muttered sarcastically. "You can't even sit without being in pain."

"If it keeps him from killing someone, then it's worth it," you snapped back.

Sam fell silent, knowing you were right. He wanted to bring up breaking your promise again, but he knew you wouldn't budge. He worried about how Dean would feel about all of this if he became human again...he knew his brother well enough to know it would kill him to know he'd hurt you like this.

Another week went by in much the same manner, but Dean's urge to kill had only worsened. He still hadn't hurt you outside of sex, but you'd begun to fear him--really fear him.

You'd decided to address the issue with him while Sam was out on a store run. You thought he might take it better if Sam wasn't hovering around.

Dean was sitting in the kitchen, drinking his coffee, when you walked in.

"Hey, D," you said softly. "Can we talk?"

He grunted and gestured for you to continue.

"It's about your behavior the last couple weeks. I-I know the bloodlust is getting bad and to be honest, your temper is starting to really scare me."

He looked up at you with black eyes. "Maybe if you'd let me go out and do some hunting I wouldn't be so volatile."

"You know we can't do that, Dean."

"We," he scoffed. "Since when did you and Sam become 'we'?"

You closed your eyes and sighed, ignoring his question. "You're too unpredictable. You know that better than anyone."

He stood up and took a menacing step towards you. "Give me the Blade and let me go out for a while...one or two kills and I'll be right as rain."

"I can't do that."

"I think you mean won't."

You shook your head. "I can't. I don't have the Blade."

He froze. "What the hell do you mean you don't have it?"

"I-I couldn't risk you getting ahold of it...so I made sure it was safe."

His gaze narrowed, eyes still black as ink. He took several steps towards you, but you backed away until you hit the wall behind you.

He was inches from your face when he growled lowly, "Where is it?"

"I don't know," you whispered.

"What?"

"I don't know," you repeated.

"Where did you put it?"

You were deeply regretting telling him anything at all, but you still blurted out, "I gave it to someone!"

"Who?!"

"I needed to make sure it was hidden where you would never be able to find it," you said desperately.

"Who did you give it to?" he roared.

"Crowley," you whimpered in fear.

Dean punched the wall directly beside your head and you yelped in surprise and fear.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

You didn't answer--too afraid to push his buttons further. You could feel the rage rolling off him in waves and you felt the cold terror seize your heart.

"Call him and get it back," he ordered.

"No," you whispered. You wouldn't risk Dean getting ahold of the Blade...not for anything.

He pinned you against the wall by your throat, slamming your head back against the wall with enough force to break the skin.

His grip on your throat was painfully tight and you tried desperately to get away. "Dean--" you gasped.

For a moment, you were certain he was going to kill you--you would be the next victim of the Mark's bloodlust and there was nothing you could do about it. Even with his eyes filled with darkness, you could see the boiling rage in them. He wasn't seeing you, he was seeing his next victim.

You struggled against his hold on your throat, trying to loosen his grip enough for you to speak. You smacked your hands against his chest, trying anything to get him to release you.

You suddenly remembered your failsafe--you'd starting carrying it everywhere when Dean became more volatile. You managed to pull the item from your pocket, breaking the lid off as you brought it up and splashed the liquid into Dean's face.

He screamed and released you as the holy water burned his skin. You dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, head throbbing painfully. As you coughed and sputtered, you reached a hand to the back of your head, touching the wound softly. When you brought your hand back down, you saw blood staining your fingers.

At first, all Dean could feel was rage--you'd dared to splash holy water in his face? He'd kill you for it. But then his gaze landed on you as you crouched on the floor, blood soaking your fingers, trying to catch your breath. He looked up and saw the blood on the wall where he'd slammed your head against it and he immediately felt sick.

He stepped away from you, eyes flicking back to green as tears filled them. He hadn't meant to hurt you--even as a demon, he'd never wanted to hurt you. He'd let the Mark's rage get the best of him and he'd nearly killed you.

He backed away to the other side of the room and sank to the floor, dropping his head into his hands. He was ashamed of what he had done and for the first time since he'd become a demon, he felt like a monster.

A few minutes later, Sam came into the kitchen, arms laden with bags. His eyes landed on you first and he dropped the bags as he rushed to your side.

"(Y/N)! What happened? Are you okay?"

Without waiting for your response, Dean spoke up. "I happened."

Sam turned to look at Dean on the other side of the room. He felt angry when he heard Dean's words, but the anger dissipated when he saw the agony etched into his brother's face.

"I-I was so angry..." Dean whispered. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm okay," you rasped, voice hoarse from the trauma to your throat.

The sound of your voice nearly broke Dean's heart in half. "Give me the cure," he said to Sam.

"What?" Sam gasped in surprised.

"Make me human again. Please." The desperation in Dean's voice shocked both of you, as did his request.

"Are-are you sure?" you asked.

Dean looked at you in a mixture of sadness and pain. "I would rather risk death than ever hurt you again."

His words washed over you, warming the ache in your chest. You didn't say anything further--you couldn't find the words.

"Let's go then," Sam said firmly.

Dean stood up and followed Sam down to the dungeon. Sam came back a few minutes later to help clean your wounds. As he cleaned your head wound, he told you he'd secured Dean in the dungeon and he'd called for Castiel.

"We might need some backup for this," he muttered.

You nodded, the simple action making your head throb painfully.

"Try not to move too much," Sam said gently.

"I'm alright."

"What happened?" Castiel spoke from the doorway.

"Dean did," Sam said with a sigh.

"You need to be healed."

"No," you insisted as you held up your hand. "Don't waste what little grace you have left on me."

Cas looked down sadly, but he didn't come towards you. "Where is Dean?"

"Dungeon," you mumbled.

Cas walked away, apparently on his way to see Dean.

Sam finished cleaning your head wound and stood up. "I don't think you need stitches."

"Great," you groaned, standing up slowly.

"Woah--take it easy."

"I'm fine, Sam. We need to do this before he changes his mind."

"Cas and I can handle it."

You shook your head. "I'm not leaving him."

Sam sighed and gave you his arm to hold onto while walking down to the dungeon. When you opened the door, you saw Dean strapped to a chair in the center of the room. Cas stood off to the side, waiting.

"Let's get started," you said softly.

You left the dirty work to Sam--you couldn't bring yourself to hurt Dean, even after everything that had happened.

Listening to Dean's screams and pleas was almost too much for you to bear, but you knew it had to be done. Dean had asked to become human again...and there was nothing you wanted more.

Despite the agony he was experiencing, Dean insisted Sam continue the injections. As much as he would have rather stayed a demon, he was too afraid of what he would do to you if left unchecked.

You closed your eyes as Dean once again screamed in pain. You weren't sure how much more of this you could take, let alone Dean.

Dean noticed your demeanor--could tell your resolve was weakening. "It's okay, baby," he told you breathlessly. "I'm okay."

You opened your eyes and looked at him, unshed tears blurring your vision. He gave you a small, weak smile, which you tried to return. It ended up looking more like a wince than anything else.

"I wanted this, remember? I want this," he insisted.

You nodded tearfully. "I know. I just don't like seeing you in pain."

"We've only got one injection left," Sam cut in gently.

You watched in silence as Sam injected him with the final dose. Dean once again cried out, before falling completely silent, head drooping forward.

"Dean?" you whispered in fear.

When he didn't respond, you worried you had all gone too far...that Dean was dead.

As the three of you stared at the man in the chair, you heard a soft groan escape his lips and he slowly lifted his head. His eyes fluttered open, revealing the beautiful green orbs you loved so much.

"You guys look worried," Dean said softly.

Sam splashed some holy water on his brother, but the liquid had no effect.

You let out a choked sob, beyond relieved to have your husband back.

You thought you heard Sam say, "welcome back Dean," but you were too focused on Dean's face to be sure. His own gaze was locked on yours, tears filing his eyes as he slowly took in the marks littering your skin--especially the bruising around your throat in the shape of his hand.

"(Y/N/N)," he whispered, his voice more broken than you'd ever heard it.

"Uncuff him," you said to Sam, who immediately did as you asked.

Dean stood up, clearly weak from the ordeal he'd just gone through, but nothing would have stopped him from getting to you.

He was a foot or two away from you when you gave in to your own desires, closing the gap between you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and sobbed into his chest--letting out all the pain you'd kept inside for the last couple months.

Dean's arms held you close, lips pressed firmly into your hair, his own tears streaming down his face. Neither of you spoke--there was no need, not yet anyway.

After several minutes, you finally stepped back, wiping the tears from your face. You smiled up at him and whispered, "I love you."

You saw something flash across his face, but it was gone before you could place it. "I love you too," he murmured.

You stood to the side as Sam hugged Dean, followed by Cas. Everyone was glad to have him back, but you could see Dean was struggling--he clearly remembered every moment of being a demon...and you had no idea what kind of impact that would have on him.

"Alright guys, I think he needs some rest. He's been through a lot today," you interrupted softly.

Dean looked at you gratefully and both Sam and Cas nodded their agreement.

"Come on," you murmured, reaching out for Dean's hand.

He grabbed it and followed you to your shared bedroom. To your surprise, he stopped just outside the door. "I think I'd rather sleep in one of the other rooms."

You looked at him in confusion, but he wouldn't quite meet your gaze. "Okay," you whispered. "Whatever you'd prefer."

You followed him to a room down the hall, waiting quietly as he took off his boots before climbing into the bed.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm alright."

You knew he was most definitely not alright, but now wasn't the time to address it.

"Okay. I'll be down the hall if you need me."

He nodded, but said nothing further. He once again couldn't look at you as you left the room. Sadness laced its icy tendrils around your heart, despite the joy you felt at Dean's return to humanity.

You went to join Sam and Cas in the library, not quite wanting to be alone. You didn't want to talk either, but just being around people you loved made you feel a little bit better.

You knew Dean's road to recovery would be long, as would your own. You weren't sure what trials lay ahead of you, but you knew the two of you would make it through--you always did.

If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was how much Dean loved you--if the last few weeks taught you anything, it was that. Your own love for Dean was equally endless--there was nothing you wouldn't do for him. As cliche as it was, love really could conquer all.

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #supernatural #dean winchester x wife reader smut #dean winchester x wife reader #jensen ackles smut #demon!dean #demon!dean x reader smut #demon!dean smut

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dmitriene · 7 months ago

Note

just thinking about retired!price meeting reader in the supermarket; her trying to reach the top shelf of marmalades and him catching a vase before it shatters and causes a mess.

several outdated pick-up lines and nervous scratches and tugs on the back of his boonie hat later, and barely contained chuckles from you, he asks you on a date. and it ends up being the best you've had in ages.

idk i just feel price hasn't flirted with anyone IN AGES, so he's reaallly out of practice, but the flush you try to hide with the back of your hand proves he's moving in the right direction. soon, he'll have your knees touching your chest or smth.

author's note: hi baby @feralforfrank!! your idea is so wonderful and i'm so happy to provide it to you in writing, except it's ended up being a one shot instead of drabble, i still hope i did it good!

you didn't think that your best date and at the same time acquaintance in life would be tied to such an embarrassing, funny situation, which maybe could become your ticket to the hospital, if not the charming man you met.

the week was nearing the end, and it was that time to which the need for a trip to the grocery shop was added to fill the fridge, which stood dullly and empty at home in the kitchen, so with an almost fully filled basket of groceries, you were currently reaching for the highest shelf with sweets in the shop.

an easy task, it would seem, if you didn't have to reach on tiptoes to a small pack of marmalades, bordering with the shelf on which household goods began, and there was a small vase that hurried to fall down when you accidentally hooked it with your elbow, immediately turning to freeze in place, looking how it was falling on you.

— “bloody hell, that' was almost' a goal to the hospital, yau alright' ther', darling?„ a rumbling, smoky voice, whose owner pulled you out of your little fright, making you blink quickly, lifting your head further to focus on the tall, bulky man carefully holding the vase that almost shattered on your head in his thick hands, the look in his vivid blue eyes worried, thick brown brows furrowed.

you nod stupidly, silent like a mouse, while your hand automatically takes the package of marmalades that you grabbed and press to your chest, the gears begin to work in your head with a creak, noticing how timely and quickly the man was near you and lend a helping hand, worthy of gratitude.

— “y.. yeah, thank you, sir, you were here at the right time„ you say a little meekly, a little shyly by what happened, but you notice how your words make him smile, making his eyes to crinkle, his mutton chops stretching along the corners of his lips, chest puffing behind a halfly zipped jacket with hoarse chuckle.

— “military instincts, i suppos'„ he answers briefly, turns away to put the vase back on the shelf, wide biceps flexing before he turns back to you, the same warm smile on his lips, but this time he reaches out a wide palm in your direction and adjusts the silly beige boonie hat on his head — “glad to know yau're fin' darling, call me john„

you accept the outstretched hand and smile charmingly, radiantly, uttering your name in response fleetingly, not noticing how his thumb fleetingly strokes your fragile hand and how he looks at you with a slight tilt of his head, when you purr even more shyly — “thank you for your service, sir — john..„ fluttering your eyelashes, john's smile becoming even wider.

— “no longuh, retired, but' i'll tak' that' to heart', luv'„ he murmurs warmly, and only now all the affectionate nicknames he was calling you past minutes catch up to you, burning flush creeping up your cheeks when you just nod, gazing at the way his cerulean eyes churn with something fiery, john's neck flushing fleetingly as he notices how long he's holding your hand in his, before letting go, yet not with another word in.

— “think i can manag' to invit' yau somewher' this evening?„ he asks so simply that you feel your palms start sweating and your face burns, stomach twisting slightly, what are considered as butterflies, and what makes you bite your lip, looking at him now only from under your fluttering eyelashes before agreeing hushedly, still more than shy — “yes, yes i do„

and you do pretty much, because when you practically flutter out of the store with his phone number in yours, there's only one picture that repeats in your head, how uncertainly john scratches the back of his head and says in half fascinated, half surprised deep voice — “hop' yau will be frei, then, sei ya, darling„

you don't remember how it all ended with current events, but you remember how it all began — a meeting in a small evening pub with good alcohol and john's company, dressed almost the same as in the morning in the shop, but this time without a boonie hat and with his jacket folded next to him, every bulging muscle and a bit of a fat hugged tightly by black shirt.

you remember the way john talked, low timbre of his hoarse voice that was accompanied by small chuckles, rumbling everytime he told you some situations from life, watching how you covered your giggles behind the palm of your hand, carefully listening to each special, exciting story from his service as a captain in the task force.

you watched as he touched you fleetingly, small brushes against your knuckles with the pads of his calloused fingers, leaving a burning feeling, something coiling in your stomach — with john's touches becoming bolder, and drinks more bitter, but there's a stroking motion against your knee that soothes and also makes you fidget.

by the time he moved closer, closing the distance between the table and sharing one leather sofa with you, all the cocktails you tried were boiling in your blood, your lips tingled from close contact with john's, as he purred something in your ear, stroking your supple thigh, to which you just nodded with barely contained giggles, catching only the edge of his words — “let' me show yau a good tim', doll„

that's how you ended up stuck beneath him, the unfamiliar bed smelled hardly of musk and light echoes of tobacco, the once clean sheets clung to your soaked back, just as wet as your squelching pussy, the one that is currently being pumped full of john's fat cock, your supple legs pressed against your chest, and you don't even feel them.

the only thing you feel is his harsh thrusts, rearranging your gooey insides as he molds your gummy walls in the shape of his thick cock, his one hand alone is enough to keep your legs pressed to your chest, while the free one is busy with cupping your cheek, watching the way your eyes threaten to roll back in your empty skull.

— “fuck, such a pretty fucking girl, knew i — it when i saw yau„ john almost growls, his voice a dull ring in your ears when his wide hips snap forward rapidly, muscular thighs slapping against your rounded ass that jiggles with each time his cock plunges deeper inside your slimy cunt, leaking tip presses against your spongy spot, and you howl.

yet, not uttering a word, tongue heavy inside your gradually drying mouth, the one john licks inside his own with fervor, you barely have time to respond to his movements, your nails digging into his back, inflicting fresh scratches on top of old scars, while you moan and practically wheeze with pleasure under him, pussy pulsing with gushing slick.

your brain screams that it's too much, but your lips part with slurred pleas of — “more, s — so close, harder, hmnn, p — please„ and john hushed you, cooes something warm and soothing against your ear, beard tickling somewhere against your thudding pulse where he sucks and bites constellations of marks, and you don't even register how you snap.

don't remember in which exactly moment your pulsing cunt clenched around his weeping cock, squeezing him for every drop his fat tip splashed against your walls, painting them with thick milky cum, his body still moving to drill you further into the mattress, into the wet sheets, when all you do is tremble, cumming uncontrollably with sobs and gurgles of moans.

that's the moment when everything cuts, and the next time your eyes flutter open, despite the ache and soreness in your body, john sits on the edge of the bed with a cup of tea in his hands, carefully stretched out in your direction as you lift yourself up, letting the dim morning sun illuminate your naked body in all it's glory, a pleased murmur is what greets you — “good morning, sweitheart'„

and it's is, a best morning in your entire life.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

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wolfiesmoon · 9 months ago

Text

Who is who again?

Riddle, Vil, Idia (seperately) x gn!reader

i was thinking and thinking and then i remembered that basic overdone fanfiction tropes do in fact exist, so here's a silly lil bodyswap fic for the soul

yuu is a little silly prankster goofster who likes messing around and trolling people in this fic, just saying in advance that i did inject a bit of personality in them

also i apologise if the fanfic becomes confusing to read at any point, it's kind of hard writing the reader's actions while in someone else's body, especially when interacting with the person you're swapped with haha

‧₊˚✩彡 Riddle Rosehearts

"Okay, so you're tellin' me that you're Riddle, and you're the Prefect?" Cater pointed to each of you respectively, still trying to grasp the situation. Trey, Ace and Deuce seemed equaly stumped.

"Yep. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I'm in Riddle's body now." you replied, shrugging casually. "You shouldn't have told them so early on, Riddle, I wanted to mess around a bit."

"Oh, now I'm very glad I told them so early. Knowing you, you'd cause far too much trouble for me to be able to uphold my reputation." Riddle shuddered, imagining the silly pranks you'd pull on everyone while in his body. Well, I suppose they wouldn't be very silly to him.

"Wait. If I'm in your body, does that..."

You quickly took out Riddle's magical pen and pointed it towards Ace, yelling out "Off with your head!"

To your surprise, it actually worked and Ace had a collar around his neck. So you can use magic now.

"HEY! Why did you do that!?" Ace called you out.

"It's revenge for stealing the bit of food I was saving for last on Friday. And also, I needed someone to test out whether I can use magic now." you smirked mischeviously at his annoyance. Now this is fun.

"This still feels unreal. I cannot believe I'm looking at myself talking to someone else. And fooling around like an idiot, too." Riddle did not seem amused.

"Listen, okay, I finally have magic now and I'm gonna take advantage of that. Which means you better run, Cater." you rubbed your hands together evilly.

"What?! Why me?!" Cater was not prepared for this attack.

"Too much magicam. Not enough reality. Collar needed." you explain like a robot overlord and point Riddle's magical pen at Cater.

"Now, now, let's not do that, okay?" Trey gently wrapped his hand around the magical pen in your outstretched hand, smiling at you.

You were about to shake his hand off and proceed with your collaring plan, but you got a better idea.

"No, no, you're right." you shook your head, lowering your hand. Cater breathed a sigh of relief.

"Since I'm Riddle and all, I have to uphold a perfect test score on every test." everyone looked at you, wondering where you were going with this.

"This might be an awkward time to mention that I haven't studied for tommorow's test at all."

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. You are coming with me." Riddle was not about to let his grades slip by such a wide margin. He'll make you memorise things until atleast a 90% is guaranteed, as much as he would hate to get one.

Originally, he was going to try and figure out how to switch you back as soon as possible but that'll have to wait after tommorow it seems.

"WAIT, CAN YOU LIKE, ATLEAST REMOVE THIS COLLAR BEFORE YOU LEAVE?!" Ace yelled behind you but you just whistled innocently, not paying attention to his despair.

"That's how the Queen's succesor managed to- are you even listening?"

"You know, it looks kind of funny when I'm being scolded by myself." you yawned, placing your chin on your arms which were currently crossed on the table.

"This is NO laughing matter. My grades are at stake here." Riddle scolded you some more. You nodded sleepily and he took that as a sign to continue.

"So as I was saying- What are you doing now?" Riddle followed your line of sight, his gaze falling on the mirror inside his room. You were looking at him?

"Woah... You're, like, actually pretty cute." you turned back to him, excited at your discovery.

"...What are you blabbering on about? This is NO time to be fooling around, as I have been telling you for the past- Wow, you really are hopeless." Riddle sighed, watching you examine his face in his mirror and still not listening to the magical history lesson.

It does not help at all that you made him lose composure with that "cute" comment.

"Your eyelashes are nice." You comment, smiling at your own reflection.

"What an oddly specific compliment." Still, Riddle felt all weird inside when you said that. This is not fair. Now he can't focus on teaching you anymore.

"It's not oddly specific, really. Guys have really great eyelashes sometimes." You batted your lashes at the mirror and then at him, trying to showcase his charm.

"That is... very strange. Please stop that." Riddle still felt weird about seeing his own face make such silly expressions.

"Hey, if I were in my own body right now I would be swooning over you. Just for your information." You rolled your eyes playfully, entirely insistant on getting out of studying by flustering the hell out of poor Riddle.

"Wha- That's it, off with your-" Riddle reached for the magical pen which would normally be in one's pocket, only to realise that you don't even own one. Of course.

"Oh, Riddle. You silly goose. I'm the one in power here." You intertwined your fingers like a supervillain.

"Please, let's just get back to studying." If Riddle were in his own body right now, his face would be red all over from embarrasment.

"If you insist." You sighed in feigned defeat, your mind already cooking up more plans to embarrass Riddle while you're in his body.

How very fun indeed.

"Why are you smiling at me like that? That kind of smile does not suit my face." Riddle seemed concerned about his body's fate.

"Hmmm, I wonder how many drinks I can order at the Mostro lounge in one sitting." You wondered aloud on purpose.

"What?!"

"What? I didn't even say anything this time." you faked your innocence.

This is going to be a nightmare for Riddle, isn't it?

‧₊˚✩彡 Vil Schoenheit

"Oh. My. God." you lightly slapped your cheeks while looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure this is reality.

Well, you suppose they aren't exactly your cheeks. You're currently inside Vil freaking Schoenheit's body and you have no idea how it happened.

You do suppose all logic kind of gets thrown out the window in a world where magic exists, so swapping bodies with someone might not be that outlandish. Now you wonder if you're the only one who this happened to, and what your body is up to.

Speaking of being Vil Schoenheit now, does that mean you have to uphold his insanely strict daily routine now?

Nah, who are you kidding? You're going to cause as much trouble as you can for this pretty boy. He wakes up much earlier than you thought, so you don't know what to do right now. You walk around his room, inspecting every corner for some prank ammunition.

Rook knocked on the door all of a sudden, telling Vil that he's worried since he's taking longer than usual. You let him into the room.

You decided that you're not going to tell anyone that you're actually not Vil and and act as him for as long as you possibly can.

"Oh, I was just... thinking about something." you grinned evilly at the mirror, before turning back to face Rook.

"Oh my, it seems you were so lost in thought that you've completely forgone doing your hair and makeup. Quite the unpleasant surprise. What troubles you so?" Rook seemed utterly hearbroken.

Wow, he's blunt sometimes. Not that you care about that right now.

"I was just thinking that I'll probably skip all that today. You know, going for a natural look." You twirled a piece of Vil's hair in your hand.

Rook tried convincing you otherwise but you shooed him out, not wanting to hear anything about how 'a natural look also involves doing subtle, light makeup'. You're on a mission here.

Speaking of, you just got a great idea.

You opened his Magicam after getting dressed, briefly gawking at the follower count before clicking on the 'new post' button.

You placed Vil's phone horizontally against your chest, taking an unflattering chin photo and posting it to magicam with the caption "#chinningtime😍😍😍😍", giggling like an idiot all the while.

Within a minute, your post has already gained about 2 thousand likes and loads of very confused (and amused) comments.

What great encouragement to post another one.

You placed the selfie camera of his phone close to your forehead, taking a forehead touch perspective pic. You added the caption "what my kitten sees😈💯🔥" and posted it.

You were laughing your ass off at all the comments when someone knocked at the door. "Roi du Poison, this is an intervention. I am very concerned about you."

Hahahaha, of course he would be one of the first people to worry about you.

Rook joined you once again in your room, explaining how concerned he is about your behavior this morning and how it's very unlike you. I mean, jeez, is Vil allergic to fun or something?

However, Rook wasn't the only one that had concerns with you, it seems.

"Would you care to explain what these are?" you were surprised to hear your own voice, turning your gaze back to the door where you were standing with a very displeased face, holding up your phone with the two selfies you took earlier. It feels dystopian to see yourself standing right in front of you. Out of body experience, for real.

"Wait. Before anything, just who are you?" you wanted to know just who was in your body, though you were already about 90% sure of it.

"Ah, Trickster. What brings you into Pomefiore?" Rook questioned internally how Vil doesn't recognise you.

"For your information, I am Vil. That other person next to you is not Vil. I'd assume you're the prefect, then?" he looked you with authority, leaving no room for stalling or avoiding his question.

"Yeah, yeah. You got me. But like, it's funny, right?" you shrugged, smiling goofily.

Vil dragged you off to the headmage's office, promising to explain things to Rook later and giving a firm scolding to you.

"Now that everything is finally sorted and we're excused from class for the day, would care to delete those... unflattering posts, please?" once the two of you were back in Vil's room, he immediately brought up that topic.

By now, they had to have gathered about 70k likes, right? Hehehehe.

"Do not smile at me like that. Or I will take back my phone and delete those horrid photos myself. Do you even realise what a PR nightmare this could be?" he placed his hands on his hips. You feel like you look completely different now that Vil's mannerisms are reflected on your own body. Body language really makes a man, huh?

"Oh, come onnnn, your fans love it. Everyone's laughing and saying how surprising it is to see you post something like this. See, they even got the hashtag #chinningtime trending!" you showed him pictures of his fans taking the same unflattering chin photos.

"What joy does someone derive from selfies as horrible as that? You made me look utterly horrible with those angles." You watched your own face contort with cringe. It's amusing how funny you look.

"People love silly things from time to time. For a celebrity as serious and professional as you, occasional silliness makes you look more relatable to your fans. A celebrity with a good sense of humor is the best kind in my opinion." you gave him a happy thumbs up. It was also for your own amusement, but you really don't feel like getting scolded even more than you have on your way back to the dorm.

"That is... the smartest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth." He sighed, "I suppose it would cause people to talk about it even more if I deleted them now. But I am still not happy about them."

You ignored the jab at your intelligence, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. "You know, Vil, you can let loose from time to time. Smile and goof around without worrying what someone might think." your eyes travelled down the sculpted jawline of your new reflection.

"In a way, you're right for suggesting that. But I'm not someone who enjoys your sense of humor or relaxed philosophy to begin with." he was right. He only jokes on occasion and his jokes aren't very goofy.

"You're right..." now that you technically are him, you can see first hand how much he cares about his body. His skin is soft and gleaming, his hair is healthy and shiny and his body is nice to move around in.

"You seem lost in thought. It's unlike you." you looked back at him through the mirror.

"I just thought about how admirable you are. Like, damn, I could nevaaa." Vil inferred you were talking about his strict daily routine. You seem different now. More quiet and thoughtful than usual. And he definitely didn't miss the pink dusting his cheeks on his own face through the mirror's reflection.

"Thank you." 'admirable' is a compliment slightly rarer than the usual ones talking about his beauty.

"By the way, your smile is beautiful. Not the one in all the movies, the one you don't consciously make." you closed your eyes, recalling that exact face of his. Too pretty for his own good, that man.

"Thank... you. You seem in a great mood to compliment me. Surely you don't think this will be enough to make up for the selfies, because it is not." at this point, even Vil didn't know what to think. The smile he doesn't consciously make, huh...

"Nah, those were just random ones I wanted to get off my mind. Oh, by the way, I don't know how to do your makeup look. Care to do it for me, pookie bear?" you sprung up from the chair at the vanity table, already getting excited about messing him up on purpose by opening your eyes when he tells you not to or moving your lips away from the lipstick, making it smudge.

You got way too sentimental for a moment there. And you're sure he noticed.

"Back to your regular self, I see. Fine, I will make myself look beautiful, as always." he smiled confidently. Though he himself has become curious about that side of you now.

Do you really think of him as a victim of your little pranks like everyone else, or are you hiding something else behind your silly smile?

‧₊˚✩彡 Idia Shroud

You were surprised to find a different voice calling out to you in the morning and telling you to wake up, one that sounded more cheerful, peppy, childlike.

And sure enough, it was Ortho's face that greeted you instead of your usual furry friend Grim.

As it turns out, you woke up in Idia's body this morning. What a lovely surprise.

You mean that both sarcastically and in the regular sense.

While you were explaining what was happening to a confused and worried Ortho, Idia's phone started buzzing somewhere in the bed. This dude sleeps with his phone inside his bed? Well, you suppose you have no time for judgement when the phone call might be important.

You rummage through his bed and eventually extract his phone. It was your number calling him.

When you pick up, you hear your own panicked voice on the other end. "U-Um, is this- Are you- How do..."

"Yes, I'm the Prefect. Looks like we switched bodies overnight." you inferred that he wanted to know who exactly just picked up the phone.

"How exactly do you think that happened? I mean, that's NOT normal." your voice on the other end seemed much calmer now.

"Hm, I have no clue, but I do know that I'm going to have loads of fun..." you grinned widely, catching a glimpse of yourself on Idia's dark phone screen and flinching slightly. You're definitely not going to get used to looking like someone else for a while. Especially if your new appearance is as unique as Idia's.

"What do you mean by that? Seriously, wha-" you ended the call before your voice could finish the sentence.

"Hehehehe... I bet he's panicking so hard right now." you giggled to yourself, still feeling a little weird about the fact that it's Idia's voice coming out of your mouth instead of your own.

"Brothe- No, Prefect. Who was that?" it was adorable how worried Ortho was over his brother. Or you, you suppose.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it..." you patted Ortho's head, hand moving over his flames with interest. "Go ahead and have fun, I'll be here if you need me." you gently shooed Ortho out of Idia's room to execute your master trolling plan.

You sat behind Idia's computer, booting it up. His computer works really fast, which isn't all that surprising considering his skills. He probably built the whole PC from scratch.

Surely, Idia won't mind if you play his games for a bit. You just want to see how far he's gotten. How many items he's saved up.

Hehehe.

You opened up one of the games you've been dabbling in yourself a bit, giggling to yourself about the random anime girl backround.

"Jeez, he's basically pro at this point." you went through his obtained characters and all the stats on most characters were maxed out.

But, since he still hasn't obtained the new character AND he has loads of gems in his inventory, he surely won't mind if you do the work for him, right?

You started pulling for characters in the gacha, waiting for the little indicator that you got a rare character. The flames of your hair flickered more and more with each pull, knowing you were getting closer.

Just when you got the pull animation you were looking for, the door to his room burst open and you saw yourself, all panicked and panting. Took him long enough, jeez.

"Oh, hi, me! I was just pulling for this character on your behalf, and-" you glance at the monitor "Looks like I won the fifty/fifty, hehe~" you acted cute and innocent.

"W-W-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I didn't- I didn't want this character! I was saving up for the re-run, and- Agh!" Idia pushed you away from his keyboard, and he stared at the screen with pure horror in his eyes. You wonder what color his hair would be if he were in his body right now. But as it stands, his flames are flickering happily above your head at a succesful trolling attempt.

"Just buy more gems, bae. Money solves all your problems." you pat his head, kinda cringed out by the way your face can contort when it's making faces candidly. You really look like that when in despair, huh?

Idia ignored the way the casual pet name made him feel. He's supposed to be furious at you right now, not flustered.

"Noooooooo, this is the worst day of my life...." he hid his face in his hands.

"You know what, though? Look at the bright side! I get to figure out how your hair looks when it's wet. I doubt you'd do it yourself and I've been morbidly curious for a while." you patted his shoulder in an overly cheerful manner.

"Wha- Abso-freaking-lutely not. You're a weirdo of the third degree." he crossed his arms, still feeling a bit heartbroken over his videogames being tampered with.

"Is it that weird that I find your hair pretty?" you run your hand through his hair for the thousandth time this morning. It just feels so strange, yet nice under your fingers.

"Finding out if I become bald when my hair gets wet doesn't seem like something a hair admirer would do, but IDK, maybe my definition is different from yours." Idia shrugs, scowl still as big as ever.

"But really, I am an admirer. I kept looking at myself or, well, you in your phone camera this morning because your hair is just so pretty. Watching your hair fluctuate with your emotions is always a fun sight, too. Like damn, your hair is literally on fire, how cool is that?" you explain your thoughts, twirling a piece of his hair in your hand and smiling at it.

"If only I could cuddle up to you and use you like a heater. Too bad your hair's just a normal temperature." Idia's heart almost exploded at the mental image that formed in his head when you said that. And it was even worse because it was coming out of his own mouth.

"T-This is not okay... You can't do this to me...!" he mumbled, not meeting your eyes.

You don't get it, you just dealt 99999 damage to his falling-in-love-resistance shield. Just how do you manage to do that?

"Actually, now that I can look at it up close as much as I want, your face is like, really well proportioned too. Like..." you bit your lip as a joke, wanting to look overly flirty. "That's all I'm gonna say."

Okay, now you've done it. He might just pass out, right now.

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dinoace2 · 5 months ago

Text

For @hg-aneh , this comic they made :]

Bit of a different take, this time, what if it wasn't just that he didn't talk, but he couldn't?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a shitty day.

All the days had been shitty.

Aziraphale had lost count how many there had been so far, and rain doesn't exist in Heaven. But clouds massing over Soho suggested that the newest thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one.

Earlier...

"No, no, please, you can't do this!" Aziraphale thrashed about, trying to loose the grip of the Powers who held onto each of his arms. One on either side, holding tight to ensure he couldn't move.

Uriel sneered at him, their eyes flaring with anger. "I already told you once, Aziraphale. You ask too many questions. Supreme Archangel or not, there still remain standards that must be met. Lines that cannot be crossed."

Aziraphale frowned. "It still seems quite reasonable to me to demand why! The very idea of creating Humanity, just to destroy it, it's...well, it's senseless! Sure, they've made mistakes, but they don't deserve utter annihilation for it! And they definitely don't deserve it if the only reason is 'the Almighty has grown bored of Her little social experiment'! That logic is, quite frankly, nothing short of childish and ridic- !"

One of the other angels cut him off with a knee to the stomach. He winced, letting out a huff of air as he sank to his knees.

"Thats enough!" Michael frowned. "I'm not sure what the Metatron saw in you before, but I'm glad He finally came to His senses." She leaned down, inches from his face. "I've half a mind to strike you down where you stand, traitor."

"S-surely," Aziraphale whispered, his voice hoarse. "Surely, this can't be what She wants. This can't be Her will."

“You don't have the right to suggest what She wants.” Michael scowled. “such blasphemy begs execution.”

“I think you and I both know what happened the last time you tried.” Aziraphale managed a smirk.

“We're well aware, thank you.” She huffed. “we had to get creative this time around, I hate to say.” She waved a hand. “Uriel!”

She stepped aside as the other archangel approached, some sort of weapon in hand. They raised their arm to strike, and Aziraphale flinched, his eyes shut tight.

…

He paused. Wasn't something supposed to happen? He opened his eyes, only to find Uriel already putting their weapon away.

What happ- he paused. His mouth had opened, his lips formed the words, but…he didn't say anything. No sound came out.

He tried again, getting the same result. Michael chuckled. “A fitting consequence for the angel who talked too much, no?” she waved to the angels on either side of him. “You know what to do.”

Aziraphale struggled in their grasp as they dragged him away, far past the point of no return.

~~~

It burns...

It's so cold, but it burns...

Aziraphale wasn't sure how long he'd been falling.

He felt infernal wind flying around him, whipping in his hair and tearing through his feathers. It was completely dark, he couldn't see anything. The only reason he knew which way was down was because thats the direction he was going.

Hellfire lashed at him as he Fell, flicking at his clothes, his skin, his wings. Every burst of flame stung with a flash of icy, searing pain that burned deep into his soul.

He wanted to cry out, to scream, to call for something, anything, but when his mouth opened he was still trapped in the same empty, maddening silence as if he had done nothing at all.

He wondered if this was how Crowley felt when he Fell; freezing, burning, hurting...alone. Thinking through everything that led him here. Wondering if he did the right thing. Wondering if there was anything else he should have done, anything else he could have done, to possibly have changed what he now faced.

Crowley...

What would he say, when he saw Aziraphale like this? What would he do? Would he even do anything? Would he glare down at him? Say 'I told you so'? Grin and laugh? Or maybe he'd just walk away, not even dignifying a response. Aziraphale wouldn't even blame him for that, considering how he left things. Whatever Crowley decided to do, it was definitely going to be deserved.

He put a hand to his throat, realizing that, whatever happened, he wouldn't be able to say anything. Wouldn't be able to explain himself, or say anything that he wanted to, or... he paused, then hugged himself. For the rest of eternity, no matter how much he may want to, no matter how hard he'd try, he would never be able to tell Crowley those three bloody words that he'd always wanted to say. Those three blasted words that had been on the tip of his tongue for millenia. Those three damned words that he should have said before.

But...even if he said them now...there was no guarantee (or, at this point, no chance) that Crowley would accept it, surely. Not after everything he did...after everything that happened.

He hugged himself, pulling his knees to his chest, and choked on a silent sob. Everything hurt, he felt confused and scared and ruined. All he felt he could do was fall, and wait for the crash.

~~~

Aziraphale's eyes opened. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know what he was. He felt nothing at all. But at the same time he felt everything…and it all hurt. His lungs burned and his eyes stung. A cloud of ash lingered around him, smothering the nearby air and nearly making him choke.

He wanted to curl up, to cry, to never move again. He felt like he couldn't move, yet still that he had to. His face hardly moved, his expression limp and exhausted and miserable. In all fairness, that's exactly how he felt. Nothing.

He gathered what strength he had and pulled himself to sit up, looking around. His skin stung with burns and his eyes couldn't quite focus. His fingers curled in coarse, sharp, black sand beneath him, and waves lapped at his feet. A burnt smell came from the bubbling ‘water’. Sulfur…? It looked like some sort of…infernal beach.

He got to his feet, brushing the sand off his coat and beginning to walk. Hell's offices must not be far from here.

Sure enough, after walking for a while he made it to a dim-lit building, greenish light spilling out of the few windows. Heaven's basement, indeed.

When Aziraphale opened the doors, all went suddenly still and silent. All eyes fell on him. The cramped crowds parted as he walked past, perhaps out of recognition, perhaps out of fear. He stopped one demon on his way, asking for directions by simply pointing a finger up.

~~~

The clouds overhead were dense and dark, nearly blotting out the natural sunlight of the late afternoon. Thunder rolled in the distance, deep and low, a promise of the storm that was to come.

A distinct ding echoed in the empty Soho street corner, and a cloud of ash spilled out onto the sidewalk.

As if to gather what dignity he had left, Aziraphale straightened his coat, straightening the wrinkles in the fabric, and approached A.Z. Fell and Co. The first raindrops of the oncoming tempest splashed against the pavement.

He hesitated as he reached for the door. The bookshop was an embassy after all. Demons aren't allowed to pass without permission...would he even be able to go inside his own- well...not his anymore - home? His fingers clasped around the doorknob and gently turned it, breathing out a sigh of relief when nothing stopped him.

The familiar chime of the doorbell was almost comforting as he stepped inside, but relief was quick to be replaced by regret.

It was dark. The lights were all out, the shades all drawn. The shop looked untouched, and while ordinarily that would be a good thing, not like this. Everything was covered in a visible layer of dust. He swiped his finger on the till counter, carving a revealed line of clean wood beneath the soft gray film. Not just untouched, but abandoned.

You poor thing...wasn't Muriel supposed to look after you?

Among the stagnant, silent scenery, a mop of long red hair was draped across a table. The body slumped beneath it stirred at the sound of the doorbell. Golden eyes blinked slowly, adjusting to the shift in lighting.

Aziraphale stood still, saying nothing, doing nothing. What happened to you? How long was I gone? How long have you been alone? His mind raced with questions that he couldn't voice.

Once he noticed the figure in front of him, Crowley was quick to sit upright, eyes wide. "Oh..." Frantic emotions of all natures flashed across his expression as he tried to determine whether the sight before him was really and truly there.

"Oh!"

He got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well! Look who bothered to show up!" A sharp grin took over his face as he sauntered up to the visitor. "The Supreme Asshat of Heaven, dirtying his clean little shoes to come and laugh at the pitiful, sad demon." His voice came out as a hiss, laced with bitter sarcasm and poorly-disguised sadness. Aziraphale didn't move, didn't respond. He couldn't.

I'm so sorry, dear…is that what you think ive been feeling? What I've been up to? Why would I ever mock you, I could never-

Crowley put his hands up and spoke in a mocking tone. “‘Ooh, poor Crowley, he must be feeling so pathetic, all alone’.” He grinned wider, his arms flat at his sides. “Well. The joke's on you. I'm better than ever on my own. Just me. A team of Myself.” He stepped forward once more, blinking away tears. “I don't need you!”

Aziraphale just looked at him, part of his mind wondering if this new form could cry.

Inches away from his face, Crowley nearly shouted, “So tell me, Angel, why did you come back?! Why are you here, Aziraphale?!”

With a shaky breath and a whoosh of feathers, Aziraphale answered his question. It…seemed the easiest way to communicate, considering the circumstances. Thunder cracked outside, a flash of light through the windows highlighting the jet-black wings from behind. He could do nothing but watch, as the color drained from Crowley's face.

“You….you-” he was still for a moment, quiet and shaky. His anger seemed to shift, still present but no longer directed at Aziraphale. “You idiot!” He launched forward and grabbed Aziraphale by his jacket’s lapels. “Why, Aziraphale?! Why did you leave?! Why did you go back?! Why?” He finally choked on a sob, collapsing against Aziraphale's chest. “Why, Angel…why…why…” He dissolved into broken cries, sinking to his knees as he begged for answers.

Oh, Crowley…

They sat in silence for a long while, Aziraphale unsure of what to do. He certainly couldn't say anything.

When Crowley's sobs slowed to soft whimpers, the angel stepped back. Crowley looked up at him, confusion in his gaze.

Aziraphale took a breath, then recited the simple, memorized steps in his head. Stepped forward with one hand up and the other on his hip, kicked his leg back and lifted his arms, spun around on one foot, and ended in a bow. You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right. He sunk down on the bow, propping himself on one knee and keeping his head low.

Crowley was silent, his jaw slack as he processed what just happened.

“...Angel-”

He reached up, gently holding Aziraphale's cheek with one hand. Aziraphale closed his eyes, leaning into the demon's touch.

“...say something…please…” He whispered, leaning closer.

‘I can't,’ Aziraphale mouthed, trying to gesture to his neck. ‘I'm sorry.’

Crowley paused, nodding slightly. He seemed to understand. He pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. “...Heaven took it from you…didn't they.” It was more of a statement than a question. When Aziraphale nodded, he sighed. “Those angels and their ‘poetic justice’, huh? They…they think they have the right to take everything…I get it. I've been there. Though I'm sure you know that already, heh.” He smiled weakly, and he felt a silent chuckle shake in Aziraphale's chest.

“...im glad you came back,” Crowley whispered. “I…im sorry how I acted…what I said, when you left…a-and…the…the kiss, i…im so sorry…I wish it had happened under better circumstances…or…maybe even just…never at all, I…I just…you…” his rambling trailed off, as Aziraphale cupped his face in both hands, gently lifting his chin.

The little space between them closed, their lips falling together as both demons desperately clung to one another, their only lifeline in an otherwise empty world. This wasn't like the last one. The last one was a plea to stay…this one was a promise.

Tears finally fell down Aziraphale's cheeks, stinging his skin as he pulled Crowley closer still. He pressed kisses to his lips, his cheek, along his jaw, anywhere he could reach. He mouthed what he couldn't say against Crowley's skin, three words over and over, whispered silently wherever he touched. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Crowley pulled away, if only to breathe for a moment. “Aziraphale…” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks with his thumbs.

He hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “my offer still stands, you know…our side…together. Just us…if- if you're interested, I mean. I…I know, it…sounds lonely…but…nothin’ wrong with being lonely together, is there?” He offered a weak smile.

Aziraphale smiled, a real, true smile for the first time since getting on that bloody elevator oh-so-long ago, nodding as he clung tightly to his other half.

Together. Our side. As long as we have each other.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! :]

#angst my beloved #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #crowley good omens #crowley #good omens fic #good omens

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mitsua · 3 months ago

Note

HELLOO!! I love your writing style sm I just had to requesttt😭😭💖 Can you do angsty middleschool!Izuku x Popular!Fem!Reader? Like reader is literally so popular because of intelligence, her quirk, whatnot. A lot of suitors but she still chose to date that quirkless, squirming boy 😭‼️ Lots of people start to mean-eye Izuku cause what did you do to get a girl like her?? what?? So Izuku starts to distance himself but reader is so clingy and whenever he distances himself, reader only gets more bothersome and attached to him so he "snaps" to make reader distance herself cause he's afraid that her reputation will drop because of him. This was before he met all might btw!! What would be the aftermath?

Thank you so much for saying that you precious story!!! I'm so glad you requested too!! Such a thrilling and angsty idea, I love it! Hope I fulfill your expectations!

Your true feelings

Warnings: bullies, mentions of self-depricating thoughts, low self-steem, crying, shouting, fighting (verbally), if I missed any please let me know!

Genre: angst Series: Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × FEM! Y/N Words' count: 2.91k

Izuku liked you, he really did. He'd made it clear the day he decided to dump on you all about how he felt about you and since that moment on you've started a romantic relation. One that he couldn't be happier with.

You were simply everything he didn't even know he was searching for—you were cheerful, smart, strong, you were almost everything—he loved it, he loved you.

By simply being yourself with a bit more of carefulness towards him you've managed to make him fall harder for you every time.

You ask how he's doing every morning just as you enter the classroom and see him there, you make sure no one else can hear when he wants to talk about his struggles, you prepare his lunch sometimes too—with you, he can talk so easily about his interests he forgets about everything going around you two and gets mesmerized by your beauty and voice.

Alas, everyone else can see you too and get jelous over the fact Izuku Midoriya—the 'good for nothing nerd' of the class—has somehow a relation with you, and as the rebellious and wild teenagers they all are—they make sure he gets their message of leaving you.

"She deserves much better," "maybe she just agreed to go out with you out of pity," "I'm sure as this year's done, she'll be done with you too."

Those are some of the comments he can hear around him when you're not in the same room as him.

It first started with a couple of confused and disgusted looks from your classmates when you grabbed his hand to take him to lunch or gave him some pecks on his cheeks.

Then the rumour of you two being a thing got confirmed when the first mean bully just so happened to unleash his resentment on him infront of you—whom decided to stood up for the both of you and told them to let you be.

After this ordeal, it was as if all your fans made a silent pact of only teasing him when you're not close. Be it when he goes or comes out of the bathrooms, when you've got to go a bit earlier than usual, whenever they catch him alone.

Izuku didn't want to bother you, he ended up crying by himself at his house each time someone told him how undeserving of you he was, how stupid of him to have fallen in love with the most astounding girl of the school was, lots of hatred filled comments and comparisons.

They started to leave those rude remarks written in his belongings. Locker, backpack, notebooks... they were hunting him to get to you.

There was a breaking point in the poor boy's heart once he saw one of his bullies confess to you at the school's front after classes when you were supposed to go to his house and spend time together.

Of course you told off the guy but as Izuku's rage started to get to the surface, he heard the bully talk bad about him as a person and as a partner.

He froze, you were on the verge of tears as you caught on what he was trying to do—disuade you from loving your one and only—and even if it didn't make your mind change as the tormentor wanted to, it did affect Izuku.

He had gotten to your side and as fast as possible and caught your wrist with his hand, running out of the scene with tears in both of your eyes.

"Thank you for getting me out of that Iz-oh, Izuku, are you ok?" You asked worriedly as you gasped for air when you arrived to a park near your house.

"It's-It's nothing, just that seeing you want to cry made me want to cry too and I tried to move as fast as possible to help you..." he replied, giving you a forced smile. While his body had stopped moving at such fast speed, his mind couldn't seem to do it.

He was nervous to what were you thinking about him right now. He was almost sure you hadn't heard a single bad comment about him than that time you ended up exposing your relation to the whole school, now that the dude had dared to speak up what no one wanted to with you close, he thought he'd lost you. 'What if those observations only served as a reason to break up with him?' 'Did you believe that guy at all?' 'Would you still want to be with someone like him?' 'What were people thinking about you seeing you with a guy like him?'

"Well I really appreciate it, I don't know what that fella was thinking when telling me all that but now that we're finally hereee... do you want to go to the swings?" You suggested with no more glassy eyes and a grin on your face.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Did you hear what he did yesterday?" "Yes! I never thought someone would really declare to her knowing she is dating him..." "Just what did she saw in him again?"

The classroom was now full aware of the love declaration you received the day before and were going mad about it prior to classes.

Izuku was going mad about it too. He liked you... he really did. 'But why was his love waning now? Was he seriously going to let people's comments get to him and end things with you?'

"Good morning Izu!" You greeted, smiling ever so brightly just at him and carressing his cheek like you'd always do. "How are you?"

He could only hum in response, not really looking at your eyes, instead staring at his hands that were placed in his desk. He needed time to think about this new insecurities of him without bothering you with all of it and worrying you.

"Uhm, do you want to talk about it at lunch maybe? We can go to our secret spot at the rooftop-oh! Before I forget to tell you, I got you lunch today! I've discovered this new recipe you'd want to try out!"

As you spoke ever so joyous Izuku could only think about how all of their classmates statements were true. You were so much for him, you cared for him more than anyone—besides his mom—had ever done and he didn't seem to be able to do the same for you—hell, even if he wanted to protect you from some danger all he could do is run away with you, he had no quirk either.

You've told him many times that you would never discriminate or think less of him for that, but after yesterday's encounter with that stupid guy and his desire of flying him out of the world's ozone layer, he was not sure about it anymore.

Everything seemed to tell him in one way or another that you were not made for each other, that you'd find better in anyone but him.

Izuku loved you... he really did, and for this he found his heart aching when he didn't meet with you in lunch to speak as you'd usually do. Even if he knew you'd still let him choose to speak right then and there or not, he couldn't bring himself to look at you in the eyes.

You'd gotten worried once your second period of classes started and he could feel your glances at the classroom from your seat to his.

It was difficult to, but he'd also managed to get out of school without you. You tried to follow after him but as you caught a glimpse of his eyes by far and he recognized yours too, he turned as quick as he could to run, then a couple of friends started to approach you and left you with no space nor words to go with him.

Was he avoiding you now?

You liked Izuku, you really did, that's why you couldn't bring yourself to sleep last night since you sent worried messages to him only to get no reply. Opting to just stay up before even your alarm went off, you started preparing food for the two of you. You'd cook your boyfriend's favorite today to cheer him up!

"Hi Izuku! Here! Better put it inside your backpack for you to not forget to eat today!" You showed him a bowl-shapped container and carefully placed it inside his things to then start chatting normally with him. "Soo, how are you today?"

Izuku could not comprehend 'how were you so kind to him? Even when he felt he was being mean to you? Why?' He now wanted to let you see what others had been saying about him all along but you left no room to budge. You were always by his side even after some days of not replying to your text messages or usual videocalls, he'd also flinch back as you tried to reach for his usual morning cheeks kiss in class and excuse himself after school since he suddenly had some other stuff to do.

You loved him, you really did, that's why your heart and mind told you maybe he needed some time or space to think about what had happened when that random guy confessed to you—because it's been since that day that he's gotten a 'little' colder towards you.

It didn't matter, you could give him some days to order whatever was on his mind and come back when he was feeling better. Though it's never been your way of sorting things out with him—you researched online and found out it could be a helpful way to get better as a couple.

So after giving him a week and a half to be reach out when he felt ready to—as you'd clarified via message to him and being left on sentvyour heart broke when there was still no signal of him coming back to you.

'No, don't think negatively now, maybe he just needs me to start up again! There's no problem with that since he's always been shy!' You thought as you came closer to your classroom, an uncomfortable feeling started growing in the pit of your stomach.

"Hello Izuk-" You went to embrace him as your body missed so much his warmth as you hugged him but froze in shock seeing his disturbed eyes after he'd flinched back once again from your touch.

"I'm-I'm sorry, maybe my voice was too loud, haha, soo, how are you? Do you feel better now?" You questioned keeping in mind your voice and opting to take one of his hands on yours, smiling kindly to hopefully demonstrate you weren't being distant because he had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry too, uhm, I-I'm doing better I guess." He said coldly, still not looking at you.

"Maybe you'd like to talk about this lat-" The ring went off and everyone gathered in their seats to start class, as you went to end your sentence, you noticed Izuku had simply taken out his notebook as a dismissing action.

Lunch time arrived and as you didn't find Izuku anywhere in the cafeteria, you thought of going to the rooftop as he'd most likely be there by himself—that's where you'd seen him go to these past days you haven't spent time with him by these hours.

You closed the door behind you and let out a relieved sigh watching him there—sitting down close to where the bars were—so calmly, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"Hello again!" You spoke softly, smiling tenderly as he heard you and turned to look at you.

"I don't think it's a good time to speak Y/N," he'd finally spoken, but certainly those were not the words you were expecting to leave his lips after a week and a half from not talking to each other.

"I, I came to see how are you doing! I've been so worried this days!" You decided to brush it off as he'd done with your salutation.

"I thought you've finally given up on me." He said ever so softly you first thought you hadn't heard him right. 'You couldn't have, had you?'

"Wha-What? What are you talking about? You know I like you Izuku-I would never do tha-" "don't, please don't continue. I've told you it's not a good time to speak."

"Then could you tell me when will it be?" You asked truly curious and a bit hurt from his way of cutting you off.

"I don't think there would be another time..." "Hey, I'm sure you don't mean that-" "WHAT IF I REALLY DO?!" He cried out.

"Y/N, NO ONE WANTS US TO BE TOGETHER! SHOULD WE REALLY BE THEN?!"

Spilling tears after tears, forest-like green eyes missing their light among all the tall and thorny-full trees were begging for something even he could still not decipher what it was.

"I WANT TO BE WITH YOU, EVERYONE ELSE BE DAMNED FOR ALL I CARE!" You could not help your voice, after hearing him scream you screamed back wishing he'd get your message and be done with all this.

"I-sorry, I want to be with you, Izuku, Izuku Midoriya, I like you, I-I love you, not them." You confessed on the verge of tears, getting closer to take his hands on yours, craving for reassurance that he didn't want neither of this too.

"Then... I don't like you."

He uttered. Shattering your heart and breaking whatever was keeping you together. 'Did he really mean it?' 'Have I done something wrong?' 'Maybe all this time I thought he was the one who needed time to think and change something but actually I was the one who needed to change.'

Your mind ran thousands of miles per hour with all the bad thoughts you were trying so hard to erase. With Izuku by your side it was always much easier but now he'd been the one provoking them.

You liked Izuku... you really did, that's why you felt as if time had suddenly been frozen and you could only stare into those darkened, green eyes. 'When did they lose their spark? Why?'

You loved Izuku... you really did, that's why your heart even while being in so much pain couldn't bare to let your mind think about a life without him.

'Anyone but him.' But for him it seemed to be 'anyone but you.'

"Izu-No, you can't be serious, right? I-It's all their fault!" "Stop it Y/N, I think this has gone for too long now." He balled his fists at his side and went past you to get to the exit door.

"Please tell me you're lying..." you sounded so defeated. Izuku could only take so much and it was undeniable he wouldn't ressist hearing you nor seeing you cry because of him.

"Izuku, what did I do wrong..." you begged for answers most likely to yourself thinking he had already left you alone.

"It's not your fault," between sobs he pleaded, "don't blame yourself."

"It's not yours either, so then why?..." you implored to him, havig already fallen to your knees holding your tearful face with your hands.

"I-..." he'd fallen speechless, his mind echoing your question making him realize what he's been missing all this time.

Clarity. As simple as that.

He's read thousands of books and heard one to many stories were the main character would lack a certain thing and even if it seemed so absurd at the moment how much impact it could have on them once they got it back—Izuku could now understand how they all felt.

His thoughts had all been scrambled ever since that damned day someone confessed to you with no light to help him see the truth behind it all—behind all those jelousy-filled remarks from your classmates—he liked you, he really did. He loved you, heck, he adored you.

'Why did a random person's words have to be relevant to any of you?' 'Why did they get the right to decide who he is with and likes?' 'He had control over his own life, not any of them.'

As if he was holding his breath for days, he hurriedly went to your side, kneeling next to you and cried out apologies, "I'm sorry-I'm so-so sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly, I didn't think how you'd feel when I said that and for that and everything I've been putting you through I'm sorry."

"I love you Izuku, I really do." You shared after a few moments of silence, catching him by surprise when you side hugged him and looked at his matching red-puffy eyes.

"I love you too." He'd ultimately admitted, reciprocating your feelings and looking in that brightness only his eyes could hold and cast light upon yours as well—that, even if you were recognized as one of the most cheerful people on your school and such, you knew you'd be none of that without Izuku in your life ever again.

Oh, how love does wonders, doesn't it?

"Well, let's go and give a fuck about everyone's opinion now!" You encouraged as you caught Izuku to stand up and go back to class.

"Eh?!" He got surprised by your sudden cursing but quickly his eyes softened as he found the deep meaning of your words and nodded his head. "Yes, let's go."

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andvys · 1 year ago

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 20

Warnings: angst, kinda mean!Eddie, mentions of an ED, fluff at the end

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Tension arises between you and Eddie when Steve steps back into your life.

Word count: 8k+

A/N: If there's any typos or mistakes, you didn't see them! @hellfire--cult thanks for feeding me ideas, I'm blessed to have you

series masterlist

You can’t explain the awful feeling in your stomach or the suffocating feeling in your chest.

You have trouble understanding why it all feels so wrong when it’s all you have dreamed of for so long. Steve kissed you in a way he had never kissed you before, not even when you had just started dating did he kiss you with so much passion and love the way he did last night.

His touch was gentle, his lips were soft and he was so desperate to feel you against him – you were just as desperate and the kiss just showed how much you still love him, how much you still want him, how much you crave him even after everything that happened between you both. But, not even the passion of the kiss could erase the things he had done to you.

The moment it all caught up to you, the moment something else came to your mind, you pushed him away and you ran, you ran away from him and now you feel guilty for it but you couldn’t stay, you couldn’t stick around any longer.

You found Robin and Chrissy, blabbering out what happened to you before you begged them to take you home.

Now, you are laying in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You’re glad that you haven’t had much alcohol last night. The sharp pain in your lower stomach is already bad enough, you wouldn’t want to deal with both a headache and the awful cramps.

You don’t know how, but you manage to drag yourself out of the comfort of your bed. When the pain in your stomach gets sharper, you suddenly regret the plans that you had made with your friends for today.

Your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing. You don’t bother to hurry down the stairs to pick it up. You know who it is but you aren’t ready to talk to him.

Eddie had done nothing wrong, he had never done anything wrong.

But the thought of talking to him or even facing him fills you with an awful feeling, one that you can’t describe. You know you can’t run from it, you had made plans with Robin, Chrissy and Eddie.

You let the phone ring and disappear into the bathroom, you close the door and drown out the voice of the shrill sound.

You hope that a hot shower will help you get rid of that sickening feeling but your mind can’t rest and every time you think back to that kiss, you feel that immense guilt. Why? You wanted it, you wanted it just as much as he did.

Steve is single and so are you, there is not a reason for you to feel guilty about something that you had wanted for so long.

Or, maybe you feel guilty for doing this to yourself… again. Because why are you letting him back in? Why are you giving him the chance to hurt you again?

It doesn’t matter how he feels about you, it doesn’t matter how much he loves you, it doesn’t matter, not anymore.

He hurt you too many times for you to just let him back into your life like this.

You cannot give him the chance to hurt you again.

The clock strikes 2 when the doorbell rings. You furrow your brows when you look at the watch on your vanity, the one you never wear. Eddie is always on time when it comes to you but never when he picks up Robin first, she is always running late. You take one last look at yourself, fluffing out your hair a little more before you drop the lipgloss on the table. You smoothe down your skirt and reach for your little purse, picking out your favorite cardigan on the way out.

The doorbell rings again when you walk down the stairs, “I’m coming!” You sigh.

When you open the door, you don’t expect to see him on the other side. The smile that tugged at your lips instantly falls and tension arises in your body.

“Hi.”

Steve.

Your shoulders slump as you take in the sight of him. The soft and apologetic eyes, the hopeful look in his features. The messy hair.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“C-Can we talk?”

You’d rather not. The fear that he will pull you back in is too big.

“What about?”

You keep holding onto the door, staring at him as you try to calm the feeling in your chest. He had already walked you home last night, even though you tried to protest against it, he could’ve talked to you then but he stayed quiet, you did too.

He licks his lips as he looks down nervously. The atmosphere around you had changed yet again. You were ready to let him back into your life. You smiled at him again, you talked to him again, you wanted to be his friend – he ruined it all with a kiss and he knows it.

“I-I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

As you look into his eyes, you know, you just know, he is genuine about it. There’s remorse lingering in them and fear – fear of losing you again.

“Steve,” you sigh.

“I-I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about how much I would hurt you again a-and, I-I just wanted, no, needed to kiss you again. I messed up, I was a selfish prick. And I promise, it won’t happen again if you don’t want it.” He is pleading with his eyes as he looks down at you, “I loved every second of it b-but I shouldn’t have done it. I-I just, please forgive me, dolly.”

Steve had never begged for forgiveness when you were still together, he had done so many awful things, he hurt you so many times but he never begged for forgiveness, he just dismissed them and moved on and acted like he had never done anything wrong.

“I won’t ever do it again,” he says, even though kissing you is all he wants to do. “I just, I don’t want to lose you again.”

You don’t want to lose him again either.

Something about the look in his eyes and the sadness in his voice makes you feel guilty.

You nod.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “just, promise me that you won’t kiss me again.”

“I promise!” He exclaims with wide eyes, “I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I-I know that we’re not exactly friends but I-I’d love for us to be friends again.”

Right now, you don’t see the Steve that hurt you. You see the boy you used to play hide and seek with. The boy who used to pick flowers for you. The boy who used to pick you up in the afternoons to get sundaes at Benny’s. The boy you made a pact with when you were little kids – that you would stay friends, no matter what.

And Steve really needs a friend. He doesn’t have Tommy anymore, he doesn’t have Nancy anymore – who is left?

“Steve?”

“Yes?” He asks, furrowing his brows when you completely dismiss his words.

“Who do you hang out with?”

“No one,” he says without a single moment of hesitation.

It might be his fault but you still feel bad for him. You and Tommy were his only friends and now he has neither one of you left.

He has no one.

No friends and not even his parents to come home to – they are never there.

Maybe it’s the image of him alone or maybe it’s just the look in his eyes that makes you feel heartbroken, sad for the man in front of you, the one who used to be your everything.

Suddenly, you feel the need to keep the promise that you had made as kids.

You open your mouth to speak but the sound of a car – a van pulling up to your driveway makes you freeze in your spot. Your heart leaps to your throat and you swallow harshly.

Eddie.

Oh no. You had been ignoring his calls all day, breaking the promise that you would call after every party – you didn’t, at least not last night. You couldn’t.

He gets out of the van and closes the door. You are so focused on him that you don’t see Chrissy and Robin on the other side of the van. Eddie stares at Steve’s car with a frown on his face and when he looks your way, he freezes.

Steve notices the panicked look in your eyes, the nervousness is written all over your face. He turns around. Eddie stands there with a frown on his face, anger in his features and disappointment.

Robin and Chrissy share a look when they find Steve on your front porch. They are the firsts to walk towards you, glancing at Eddie nervously.

You tear your eyes away from Eddie when Chrissy walks up the stairs, brushing past Steve, completely ignoring his presence.

“Hey!” She smiles but with a questioning look in her eyes. You know what she is thinking; what is he doing here?

“Hey Chris,” you smile and greet her with a hug. She places her hand on your shoulder when she pulls back, eying the skirt you are wearing, her eyes lighten up, “oh my god, is it the one we bought last week together?”

“Yes!”

“I love it, it’s so cute!”

“Don’t you have the same one?” Robin asks, chuckling as she approaches you, eying Steve weirdly.

He rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Yes but it’s not the same color, Robs!”

Robin gives Chrissy a teasing smile before she looks over at you, “hey wild child, are you good after last night?” She tilts her head in his direction, raising her brows at you as though to say ‘what the fuck is he doing here?’

You would’ve laughed at the nickname she just gave you if it wasn’t for the intense look that Eddie is giving you as he walks up the stairs as well. You see his clenched jaw, he is angry – angry that you ignored his calls, angry to see him here. But there is also a hint of sadness in his brown orbs and you can’t take it – you can’t stand to see even a sliver of sadness in his eyes.

He quickly masks it with something else, just the way he always does.

“Thanks for the call, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically, furrowing his brows with a fake smile on his lips, “I mean for thanks for letting me know that you got home safe. Oh and super nice of you to keep ignoring my calls all day too.”

You can’t even look at him so you look down.

Steve’s brows stayed furrowed, the tension and the awkwardness isn’t hard to miss. Eddie looks at him in a way that almost makes him shrink under the weight of his eyes. So he turns back to you. You are blinking, chewing on your bottom lip and breathing heavily. You feel guilty, so guilty that you can’t even look at Eddie. Steve’s heart drops a little. He remembers how he felt when Nancy kissed him, how he couldn’t look into your eyes without feeling like the guilt was eating at him. He felt horrible, even when it wasn’t a kiss he initiated or even let happen, he still felt guilty, just as guilty as you are feeling, right now.

But you and Eddie are just friends, right?

Robin and Chrissy look at each other awkwardly.

“Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” you say softly, “I had the worst headache–”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbles, glancing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s attitude.

“Look, can we just go?” Robin asks, wanting to escape the awkward situation.

“Yes please,” Chrissy mumbles.

You look up, slowly looking between your friends. You already know that Robin and Chrissy are both going to be too busy with each other and Eddie is clearly pissed – you have seen him angry before but the anger was never directed at you and you know very well how he can be when he’s pissed.

Before you can stop the words from spilling, you look up at Steve.

“Steve is coming too.”

All four of them turn to you, looking at you wide eyed – as though you had gone crazy.

Chrissy looks annoyed, Robin looks confused, Eddie looks at you in disbelief and Steve, he stares at you with softened eyes.

“I invited him,” you lie.

Steve shakes his head at you, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to include him, this is not what he came here for. He just wanted to apologize and make things right.

Robin looks away with a clenched jaw and Chrissy looks down to hide her eye roll.

“Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah,” you whisper, nervously.

You walk past Steve and the girls, clutching your cardigan tightly as you step out on the porch. Eddie places his hand on your lower back and leads you down the stairs and towards his van.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to ignore you–”

“Did something happen?” He asks and finally swallows the anger down. He can hear the trembling in your voice, the shakiness of your hand which might be caused by something else.

He feels the urge to cup your cheeks so he can see your eyes but you keep looking down at the graveled ground.

You simply shake your head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks softly, this time.

“I was really tired and I drank too much, I wasn’t thinking.”

You raise your head a little, daring to look at him.

“You’re lucky Robin called me otherwise I would’ve broke into your house.”

Your lips twitch and you break into a smile, “wouldn’t be the first time.”

He can’t help but smile back at you, his anger melting away.

“I-I’m sorry for inviting him, I know none of you want him around.”

“Then why did you invite him?” He asks, not out of anger but out of curiosity.

You can see the annoyance lingering in his eyes, the same annoyance you saw in Chrissy’s and Robin’s eyes.

You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself but when you look at him, you know you have to.

“He is just a friend now, I promise. I-I don’t want him like that – he’s just my friend.”

Eddie’s eyes skip over your face. Your brows are furrowed, eyes pleading and filled with honesty – he just doesn’t understand what the guilt is for.

“I still don’t understand why he has to be included.”

“He’s alone, Eddie.”

His brows knit together and he shakes his head.

“No, he isn’t? He’s with Nancy and bitchy Carol and fucktard Tommy–”

“He broke up with Nancy and he doesn’t have friends. Not anymore.”

Oh.

If there is one thing Eddie knows, it’s loneliness. And he can’t help but pity him. There isn’t much that he knows about Steve except for the things that you told him and his absent parents – it’s something that he unfortunately can relate to. He knows what it’s like to have no one. But fear grows inside of him at the news of Steve being single.

“Fine, don’t expect me to not mess with him though.”

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words.

“You two will be menaces to each other.”

Whenever Eddie felt vulnerable, angry or hurt, he’d put on a mask, he would hide his true feelings by putting on a front. He had never felt that need to do that with you, not until now.

He watches you with a weird feeling in his chest when you walk back to Steve.

Robin gives Eddie a pitiful look but the latter refuses to show how insecure or sad he is. He puts on a fake smile and looks over at Steve.

“I always wanted to take your girl for a ride.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him, halting his movements, he stops jingling with his car keys and gives Eddie a weird look.

“Excuse me?”

Robin and Chrissy look at you before they turn to each other, erupting into a fit of giggles at the double innuendo.

Eddie briefly glances at you before he nudges his chin into the direction of Steve’s BMW.

Steve squints his eyes, “yeah, keep dreaming, Munson.”

Eddie chuckles, “I will.”

“Wait, are we taking your car?” You ask, turning to Steve.

Robin mumbles something under her breath and Chrissy shushes her in response, nudging her shoulder.

“Can we talk, y/n?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, at the movies.”

You know exactly what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want to intrude and he probably feels awkward to be around your friends.

“Come on.”

Steve sighs, knowing that you won’t take no for an answer, he just gestures for you all to get in his car. He expects you to take the passenger seat but instead, you take Eddie’s hand in yours and lead him to the passenger side.

“You can sit in the front,” you smile at Eddie as he looks down at you in confusion.

“I’ll sit in the back with Chris and Robin.”

“Uh–”

“Let’s go before the movie starts!” You say before anyone else can protest.

Eddie and Steve share a look, not a very excited or happy one, it’s more one of annoyance. Neither of them want to spend time with the other. But they get in the car nonetheless.

Chrissy and Robin get in as well, begrudgingly so.

“Are we still going out for pizza afterwards?” Robin asks, looking between Chrissy, Eddie and you.

Steve looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing the way you scrunch your face up in disgust.

“Yeah, we can order some when we get back to my place,” you mumble, “I definitely need some McDonald's today though.”

Robin raises her brows in surprise, “what, is that hangover food for you or something?”

Chrissy chuckles beside her.

“Not exactly.”

No. It’s not your hangover food. Steve knows it. You only ever craved McDonald’s once a month.

“Hey Robin, did you tell y/n about your new job yet?” She asks, trying to ease the tension in the car.

Your lips part when you look over at your friend, “wait, what new job? You found something new?”

“Yes!” Robin says, pretending to be excited, “I’m starting next week.”

“Where?”

“Scoops Ahoy!”

Chrissy smiles, nodding in excitement.

Steve turns around, looking at you, surprised. His lips twitch and you almost laugh. Eddie glances between the two of you.

“Oh,” he furrows his brows, “the ice cream shop, huh?”

“Yup.”

Robin doesn’t even acknowledge him properly, just nods into his direction. Oh, this is going to be interesting.

“So, have you met your co-workers yet?” You ask.

She twists the rings on her fingers, shaking her head.

“Nope, I guess, I’ll meet them on monday.”

“You don’t have to,” you giggle.

“Huh?”

The look of confusion amuses even Steve.

You point your finger at Steve, who waves at Robin mockingly.

Her eyes widen, for a moment she looks shocked before she lets out a groan of annoyance, “you gotta be kidding me..”

“Hey there, co-worker,” Steve says, unable to hold back his chuckle.

She slumps back, looking very miserable before her eyes light up and she sits back up, “wait! Does that mean that you have to wear one of those sailor uniforms too?”

At that, Steve groans and looks away.

“Sailor uniforms?”

“Come by on monday and you’ll see Steve in a pair of skimpy sailor shorts,” Robin winks at you.

While you and Chrissy laugh and even Eddie joins in, smirking at Steve, “are you gonna wear some slutty shorts, Harrington?”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Robin mumbles, “can you start the car, dingus? We’re gonna miss the movie!”

“Yeah,” he sighs as he starts the car.

The drive to the movies wasn't the most joyful one you’ve been on. Eddie kept pestering Steve about his music choices. Steve kept rolling his eyes at him and Chrissy and Robin kept whispering to you.

‘Why is he here?’

‘Why did you invite him?’

‘Are you with him again?’

‘What about –’

You never got to hear the end of Robin’s question, Chrissy slapped her shoulder before she could finish it.

Walking into the movie theater has always been a nostalgic feeling to you, it always takes you back to your childhood. It’s oddly comforting. The smell of popcorn and butter makes your mouth water and you can’t wait to dig into the sweet treat.

After buying the tickets, Chrissy takes your hand and leads you over to the lounge area while the others go to buy the snacks.

The moment you take a seat, she starts bombing you with questions again. Rambling and throwing one after the other at you, not even giving you the chance to reply.

“Chrissy–”

“No, please don’t tell me that you’re getting back with him,” she says, crinkling your nose. She watched you cry over him more than once, even before the break up.

You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, taking a look at the others as they stand by the counter.

“I just – he’s different now.”

Chrissy scoffs at your words, rolling her eyes.

“Right, they all change when they get dumped.”

“He didn’t get dumped, he broke up with Nancy – and it doesn’t even matter! I don’t want to date him, I-I just, we’re friends now, I guess.”

Chrissy knows that Steve had always been more than just your boyfriend. He was your best friend, long before she became friends with you.

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again, y/n.”

You tilt your head and smile at her, “please, don’t worry about me. I won’t let that happen, not again. We’re friends. That’s all.”

She nods at your words and glances at the others. Steve and Eddie seem to be fighting about something, she can’t help but chuckle in amusement.

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, leaning closer to him to mock him about something.

“What’s so funny?”

She tilts her head at you, “well, I guess, Steve tagging along makes things more entertaining.”

With furrowed brows, you take a look at them – Eddie is holding a bag of popcorn in one hand, throwing some at Steve with the other.

“Guys!” You hear Robin’s annoyed voice.

You snort.

Robin is the first to come back, annoyance written all over her face,“they are so immature.”

She hands Chrissy the bag of popcorn and a box of Reese's pieces.

“They’re men, what do you expect?”

“You’re right,” Robin says to Chrissy.

“Sweetheart, tell Steve that you prefer salted popcorn,” Eddie says when he comes back, “he insisted on sweet popcorn.”

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, stopping next to him.

“Here we go again,” Robin mumbles under her breath.

Steve already knows your answer so he doesn’t even look at you expectedly. Eddie seems to look like he knows your answer too and he does, but today it isn’t the right one.

“Uh.” You get up and look at your best friend with an apologetic look in your eyes as you reach for the bag in Steve’s hand. “I’m sorry…”

Eddie’s eyes flash with confusion and his face falls. If you didn’t feel so guilty already, you would’ve been amused by the look of betrayal on his face. He is so dramatic. You’d be lying if you said that it’s something you don’t love about him though.

“W-What?” He scoffs as his lips set in a pout, “we always get salted popcorn!”

“Yeah and it’s my favorite but I’m craving something sweet today. I’m sorry, Ed’s.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and looks away from you, “and how did you know that?” He asks Steve.

Steve could have been smug about it, especially, seeing as it makes Eddie mad.

He shrugs, “it’s just something that we always used to get when we came here,” he lies.

Suddenly, you want to run, you want to escape. So you grab your purse and leave the group, pretending to look at the ticket that you were holding all this time. Chrissy gets up to follow you and so does Steve.

Robin and Eddie stay back though, glancing at each other.

It’s not that they hate him. They don’t. But they know what he did to you, they know how much he hurt you, how much you suffered because of him and he had done nothing to earn your trust back. He just weaseled his way back into your life and you let him.

And despite his jealousy and the fear of losing you, Eddie still isn’t as angry as Robin is – because he thinks about your words; ‘He’s alone, Eddie.’

Eddie and Robin follow the three of you, he watches you, he watches how you interact with Steve and Chrissy, laughing at something he said.

“I’m so fucking pissed,” Robin says.

“Why?” He asks but keeps his eyes on you.

“Because he will just hurt her again. I can’t believe she feels bad for him after the shit he did to her.”

“Well, can’t really fight her when she’s this stubborn,” Eddie shrugs.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to be friends with her – I mean, when Billy kissed her he was like all rough and shit, and then Heather – fuck, when Heather told me she kissed Steve, I was fuming!” She says, looking up as she groans in anger.

Eddie feels like someone had dropped a bucket of ice cold water over him. He freezes and halts in his tracks, eyes widening as he feels his heart sinking to his stomach.

“W-What?” Eddie mumbles.

Robin stops walking when she notices that Eddie is no longer beside her. She glances at the three of you before she turns back to him and sees the look of confusion and sadness in his eyes – fuck. She should have known. She should’ve known that you didn’t tell him. That is why you didn’t call him. That is why you didn’t pick up any of his calls.

“S-She kissed Steve a-and Billy?” He asks with widened eyes, “please, tell me you’re joking, Robin.”

Robin’s own eyes widen as well and she starts shaking her head wildly, “no! It was spin the bottle.”

A part of him feels relieved but the other part is still tense. His eyes begin to hurt.

He curses at himself for not being there last night. You wouldn’t have to kiss Billy if he was there, you wouldn’t have to kiss Steve.

“B-But it was just a game, right?”

A guilty feeling overcomes Robin and she already begins to regret that she even mentioned it.

She wants to say ‘yes, it was just a game’ but Robin was never a good liar and even if she tried, he would know that she is not telling the truth.

“It was just a game,” Eddie repeats, “her kissing Steve was just a game, right?”

He doesn’t even care about Billy, the kiss with him was just a game.

“Eddie–”

“Come on, Robin,” he mumbles, shakily.

He knows he has no right to be upset over a kiss. You are not even his to lose. But he always hoped, deep down, he always hoped that there might be a chance for him someday.

“She told me that he kissed her again afterwards – outside.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He feels so stupid to think that you wouldn’t do this. You could only resist him for so long. Steve Harrington still has your heart after all.

“But Eddie, I don’t think that it meant anything to her. She rejected him and then came to find me.”

Her words do nothing to make him feel better.

Robin looks at him, anxiously. She knows how resentful Eddie can be when he’s hurt and by the look on his face, she knows that he is deeply hurt.

“Are you guys coming?” Chrissy asks, interrupting Robin who was just about to say something.

Eddie looks down with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t even want to be here anymore.

“Yeah. Come on, Eddie.”

Eddie follows begrudgingly. He knows that he shouldn’t feel that way. It shouldn’t hurt as much. You are still just friends after all, you are not his girlfriend, you are not his, your heart isn’t his.

You never gave any signs that you wanted him back, not even once.

He shouldn’t be this upset. He shouldn’t feel so jealous.

But it isn’t just the kiss or the kisses.

You have only spent one evening with Steve, kissed him twice and you are already distancing yourself from him. Ignoring him and his calls. He is already losing you.

His mood only gets worse when he finds you sitting next to him, giggling at something he said to you. He rolls his eyes and sits down on the other side of you.

You turn away from Steve and towards him, smiling at him, “hey.”

“Hey,” he grumbles.

He doesn’t even see the creased brows or the saddened look in your eyes, he’s staring at the white screen.

“How was the campaign last night?”

“Good.”

“Okay,” you mumble and lean back again, you frown in confusion. Is he this upset over some salted popcorn?

Steve looks over at Eddie, his jaw is clenched, he blinks faster than usual, he is pissed. He was pissed before but not like this, he seemed to have calmed down on the drive here and even while they were at the counter, buying snacks, he seemed fine and even laughed and teased him, now he just looks angry.

He glances at Robin who sits next to him, she is chewing on her bottom lip and bouncing her knee, completely ignoring Chrissy’s rambling. The room might be dark, but Steve can see the guilt in her eyes.

“Hey Robin,” he whispers.

She rolls her eyes at him, “what?”

“You didn’t tell Eddie about the kiss did you?” He whispers, careful that you aren’t listening.

She freezes a little and that is enough of an answer. Shit. Steve doesn’t really care about Eddie or about what he feels. He understands him but he still doesn’t care.

He cares about you. Back at your house, he saw the way you avoided Eddie’s eyes, the way you looked so scared and guilty, you were scared of his reaction that’s why you avoided him. You didn’t want him to know.

Now he knows and you don’t know that he does.

“Are you not gonna tell me about it?” Steve hears you asking him.

Eddie doesn’t even glance at you, he only leans further away from you.

“I would’ve told you if you picked up the fucking phone last night.”

You’re taken aback by the anger in his words, by the curse words that he never ever directed at you.

Normally, you would have said something but the guilt that you are still feeling makes you unable to talk. Besides, you are too intimidated to say anything back, scared that he will lash out on you because, clearly, he is deeply upset about something.

Steve watches how you turn away from him, you roll your eyes but the sadness gives away how hurt you are by Eddie’s attitude towards you.

Steve glares at Eddie, the urge to whack him across his curly head is strong.

He nudges your shoulder and gives you a soft smile when you look at him, “you okay?”

You hesitate, “...yes.”

Eddie narrows his eyes to look at the two of you and he keeps doing it during the whole movie.

Normally, you would comment on certain scenes, so would he. Normally, you would laugh together and you would lean your head on his shoulder, he would wrap his arm around you.

Today, he leans away from you and after a few attempts to talk to him or make him laugh, you give up when he keeps brushing you off. You lean away from him as well. He doesn’t comment on anything and neither do you anymore. He is still pissed and you are still tense, your mind is filled with thoughts that you don’t want to think about and despite the painkillers you took earlier, your stomach is still cramping. You are hurting today.

Despite the funny moments in the movie, you cannot laugh, in fact, you feel like crying – whether it’s your period making you overly emotional or just Eddie.

Eddie is giving you the cold shoulder and it hurts, it fucking hurts.

He had never done anything like that to you before.

You have been close friends for almost a year now and not once had he said or done anything to hurt you. But now, he is giving you the silent treatment, the cold shoulder and you can’t stand it because it’s something that Steve used to do to you.

Whenever he was upset about something, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t tell you what was going on in his mind, he wouldn’t tell you what you did wrong, he would simply give you the cold shoulder and ignore you for the rest of the day.

And now Eddie is doing the same to you.

Eddie who you thought would never do this.

The moment the credits start rolling, you jump up from the seat and push past Eddie. You rush out of the room after making up some excuse that you have to use the bathroom.

“Is she okay?” Chrissy asks Eddie.

“How would I know?” He snaps at her and gets up as well, leaving the others behind as he makes his way out as well.

Chrissy scrunches her face up and looks at Robin, “what’s gotten into him?”

“Jesus..” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, “what a brat.”

“Who?” Chrissy asks as she takes a proper look at his face for the first time today, “Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re right,” she mutters under her breath as she gets up, “I can’t believe I’d ever agree with you.”

Steve isn’t offended by her words. He knows that your friends never liked him and he doesn’t blame them. They have always been protective of you and of your feelings, something that he wasn’t when you were dating.

“Let’s just go,” Robin says, “I need the pizza now.”

After some internal pep talk and five minutes of trying to keep yourself from breaking down, you leave the bathroom and step back into the empty hallway – almost empty hallway. You are almost startled by his presence. Out of all your friends, you didn’t expect to see him waiting for you.

You halt in your tracks. He is looking at you the same way he did when he just came to your place.

Eddie looks at your eyes, he notices the glassiness right away, whether you cried or not, he feels awful, despite the jealousy and the anger that he is still feeling.

“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” You finally snap at him.

If he wasn’t so on edge already, he would’ve laughed and he would’ve loved the cute frown on your face.

If he didn’t have a sleepless night, he maybe wouldn’t have been so pissed but the sleepless night was your fault.

Even through the angry haze, he can see how beautiful you look today – you always look beautiful but something about the way you look today makes his heart race even faster. Maybe it’s the new skirt or maybe it’s the way you did your makeup or the fact that you are wearing his ring – you always wear it but, somehow, it means even more to him that you are wearing it today, even after the kiss with him.

Eddie never gets to answer your question.

Your friends join the two of you and interrupt your little tense moment.

“Let’s go, we’re gonna order some pizza.”

You tear your eyes away from his, sighing as you walk past him.

“Yeah, can we order? I don’t feel like eating there.”

Robin and Chrissy nod. They pull you away from Eddie and Steve.

Both men stay behind for a moment, Eddie looks at the ground, a mixture of guilt and anger still deep in his features.

Steve wants to say something and he opens his mouth but decides against it. Anything that he will say, will only anger the metalhead even further and he doesn’t want to risk making things worse.

So he turns around and walks away.

You are surprised to see Robin and Steve sharing a knowing look when you all get back into his car, they both take a look at Eddie, who is silent, unlike on the drive here.

Chrissy leans closer to you, she cups her hand over her mouth, “did something happen between you and Eddie?” She whispers, giving you a look of concern and confusion.

You shake your head at her and shrug. You are just as confused.

Her eyes soften when she sees the worry and the hurt in your eyes, she gives you a sad smile and takes ahold of your hand, trying to comfort you.

Your lips twitch, you squeeze her hand back before you turn away, looking out the window instead.

The day started off good, the sun was shining and the breeze was warm but, just like your mood, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The clouds appeared like dark shadows over the pretty blue sky and the breeze turned into a harsh wind. It isn’t raining yet but you know it’s about to start falling any minute.

Somehow, the weather always matches your mood.

“I thought we were getting pizza?”

You were so focused on watching the clouds move, you didn’t pay attention to where you were driving.

Your eyes light up a little when you see the McDonald’s sign.

“Y/n doesn’t want pizza,” Steve says as he pulls into the drive through, “she wanted burgers.”

For a moment, you forget about Eddie’s anger, the pain in your stomach or the guilt. Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you have been craving burgers and fries all day.

“Oh! Fries too, please, Stevie!”

You don’t hear Eddie’s scoff over Steve’s chuckle, “I know, dolly.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clenches his fist.

“Does anyone want anything?”

Eddie mumbles a ‘no’.

Robin simply shakes her head and Chrissy leans closer to Robin to look out the window, reading the menu board.

“Oh, can I have a strawberry milkshake?” Chrissy asks shyly, already reaching for the walled in her purse but you stop her, placing your hand over hers.

“I got it, Chris.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Steve mumbles, looking over his shoulder, he glances at you both, “I’ll pay.”

She raises her brows, forcing a smile as she mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’.

Robin is awfully quiet and you just notice it now when Chrissy leans back and you get to take a look at her. She keeps running her fingers through her hair, looking out the window with tense shoulders, just like Eddie.

What the hell is going on?

Chrissy looks just as clueless as you though.

When Steve hands you the bag and the milkshake, a few minutes later, you almost squeal in excitement. Chrissy laughs at the look on your face and takes the milkshake from your hand.

“Do you wanna share?” She asks, offering you the drink after taking the paper off the straw.

“No thanks, I need the fries now.” You rip open the bag, the smell of greasy food makes your mouth water, “I’m so hungry,” you mumble as you reach for the fries.

“Want some?” You ask Chrissy and Robin, “I’ll share, it’s too much for me anyways.”

Robin shakes her head, “nah, I’ll wait for the pizza.”

Chrissy takes some, “you’re missing out, Robin.”

“Right?” You mumble through a mouthful, “you gotta dip them, Chris.”

“Not in a strawberry milkshake though!” She laughs, “it’s gotta be vanilla.”

Steve glances at you through the rearview mirror. His heart flutters when he sees the smile on your face.

“Do you guys want some?” You ask, offering some to Steve and Eddie.

“It’s all yours, hangry,” Steve chuckles, using an old nickname.

“I’m not hangry!” You slap his shoulder.

“You want some Eddie?” You ask softly.

He shakes his head, continuing to give you the cold shoulder. So he really is mad at you. Eddie never says no to fries, he steals some from your plate every time you go out to eat – or he finishes the ones that are left on your plate when you get too full to finish eating them yourself.

You exhale and slump back in your seat, feeling sad all over again.

You look down at the fries, suddenly, not feeling as hungry as you did before. Still, you continue snacking on the fries, choosing to save the burger for later.

Chrissy looks at you worriedly when you frown and look down at your food, sadly, not as happy as you did a few moments back. She knows that you had been struggling in the past few months, you haven’t been eating as much and whenever you do, you quickly lose your appetite. Whether it’s the past memories that take away your appetite or something else – you have a problem. A problem that Eddie usually tries to help you with.

She doesn’t know what happened but she can’t help but glare at the metalhead.

But Robin is acting off too, so when you finally arrive back at your place and you all walk into your house. Chrissy takes Robin’s hand and pulls her away to the dining room to talk to her.

“We’re gonna order the pizza!” Chrissy shouts as they disappear in the hallway.

“Uh – okay.”

Throwing your cardigan and your purse on the dresser, you walk into the living room.

“Should I get some drinks?” Steve asks you, following you.

“I can do it–”

“No, sit down, I’ll get some,” Steve mumbles, giving you a smile before he walks past you, disappearing in the kitchen.

You reach for the remote to turn on some music on the TV, you always need the background noise, even in a room full of people. From the corner of your eye, you see him. You are surprised that he’s still here, you figured that he’d take his van and leave the moment Steve parked the car in your driveway.

A part of you wants to say something but the other part doesn’t. You don’t want to give him the silent treatment back, you are just scared of his explanation.

On the way home, you kept trying to figure out what made him so angry.

Did he know about the kiss? Did Robin tell him? Is he upset about that?

Even if he knows, he can’t be upset about it – even when you think about what Nancy said to you, it still makes no sense. Why would he be upset? You aren’t together. You are not his girlfriend.

Then again, it doesn’t explain your guilty feeling either. Just like you aren’t his, he isn’t yours. You have no reason to feel so guilty about kissing Steve – you can kiss whoever you want.

Besides, you went on a date with Ray and even kissed him before he turned into a major douchebag – Eddie never got upset about the fact that you wanted to go on a date. So he can’t be upset about this either, right?

It has to be something else.

Is he sick of you?

Did he finally realize that you aren’t worth his time?

Did he have a sudden change of heart just like Steve did when he went from loving boyfriend to awful boyfriend overnight?

Did your radio silence piss him off that much?

He is still standing by the doorway.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him and of course, it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You still don’t say anything though, too afraid to make things worse.

The tugging in your chest gets even worse, if that is even possible.

“What’s wrong, dolly?”

All appetite is lost the moment you hear the mocking in his voice. You still blame your emotions on your period but deep down, you know that it’s not that.

You feel the coil in your throat, the hollow feeling in your stomach and the sickness in your chest. You don’t know whether you want to throw up or break into tears.

You can’t take this, not from him.

His words weren’t even bad or offending in any way but to hear the tone in his voice, to receive the cold shoulder from someone who you wouldn’t hesitate to give your everything to, makes you feel like you’re taken back to Halloween – where it all fell apart.

“Did you have fun last night?”

His question makes you frown. For the first time, you look at Eddie with a glare.

“I did.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he scoffs and looks away.

What the hell?

Chrissy and Robin walk into the room, both looking a little tense.

“Uh, pizza is ordered,” Chrissy says awkwardly.

She notices your heavy breathing and the way you are blinking quickly. The way you keep glancing at Eddie who refuses to look at you.

Steve comes back into the room with a few cans of coke, he places them on the small table. Steve’s presence seems to anger Eddie even further and Chrissy is starting to get annoyed by the attitude that spawned out of nowhere.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks you.

Eddie is not looking at you. He isn’t even glancing at you. He doesn’t care. Why doesn’t he care anymore? What happened?

Your eyes burn. You can’t sit here any longer, you get up and walk away.

“Hey, do you not want to eat your food?” Steve asks, pointing to the takeout on the table.

“Not hungry,” you mumble.

“But, you haven’t eaten all day!”

Suddenly, Eddie feels even worse than he did before. He let his anger control him, all fucking day.

Steve sees your trembling lip and the tears in your eyes when you look back for a split second before you brush past Eddie and disappear into the hallway.

Chrissy calls out for you, jumping up from the couch, she runs after you, bumping into Eddie on purpose with a death glare.

He looks down with a sigh.

Steve has had enough of his behavior. He shakes his head in disbelief before he walks over to him, startling Eddie by grabbing his shoulder roughly, pushing him forward.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie snaps at him, trying to push Steve’s hands off of him but the latter has a strong grip on him and he pushes him towards the entrance, ripping the door open, he pushes him out.

For a moment, Eddie thinks that he’s getting kicked out.

Robin jumps up, looking panicked as she watches them both leaving the house. She follows behind, opening the door that Steve just slammed shut.

“What the hell is your problem?” Eddie asks, pushing Steve’s hands off with force.

“What’s my problem?” Steve chuckles in disbelief, pointing to himself.

Eddie scoffs and looks away.

“Get your fucking jealousy in check before you keep hurting her!” Steve yells over the harsh rain that is falling.

“She is not – I-I’m not..”

“Yes, you fucking are. You were fine before the movie, so I’m guessing you –” he points at Robin, who breaks eye contact right away and slumps, “told him something and I have a pretty fucking good idea of what it is!”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, he looks down, his eyes are burning.

“It’s just–” Eddie’s words get cut short because what can he say? How can Eddie tell him he is mad because he can’t compare himself to Steve Harrington? How can he tell him that he isn’t just jealous but also hurting? How can Eddie say anything at all when he has no chance whatsoever?

For a split second, Steve is able to see through Eddie, the look in his eyes gives it all away.

“Eddie,” he sighs, hurting himself with what he is about to say. He could lie to him, he could leave it all like this, be your knight in shining armor and pick you up after today but he won’t use Eddie’s insecurities and your vulnerability to weasel his way back into your heart.

Steve looks up, taking a deep breath.

“She pushed me away when I kissed her and I think we all know why.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Now get your ass up there and fix it,” Steve says angrily.

A million questions run through Eddie’s mind but now is not the time to ask them. Steve won’t take no for an answer. He simply nods before he walks back into the house.

Robin crosses her arms over her chest, she is impressed by Steve. She’s a little surprised, she expected a fight to break out, she didn’t expect this to be cut… so short.

“Good job, Dingus.”

He rolls his eyes at her, “let’s get inside.”

Chrissy is standing in front of the bathroom door, leaning against it as she keeps trying to convince you to come out.

“Please, y/n,” she sighs, softly.

Eddie eyes the cheerleader warily, for someone with such a kind face, she sure gave him the kind of death glare that even intimidated him.

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I try?”

She turns around at the sound of his voice, snapping her head up with a frown. Her brows knit together, her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes but steps away from the door nonetheless.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “don’t mess it up, Munson.”

That is a threat. Yeah, with the look on her face, it definitely is a threat.

He really messed up.

He knocks on the door softly, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” he speaks with a much gentler voice than before, “can we talk?”

Silence.

“Please?”

He opens his eyes when the faint click of the lock sounds through the hallway. He grabs the doorknob and twists it, he opens the door and steps inside. You are sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping away the tears that keep rolling down your cheeks – because of him.

But why? Why would you cry over him?

You look up at him with glossy eyes and you rise to your feet.

“D-Do you hate me Eddie?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate, he immediately pulls you into a tight hug. His own heart breaks, not once in his life did he think he would hurt you but, here he was, causing you pain because of his own selfishness.

He can feel you clinging to him, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your tears are seeping through his shirt but he doesn’t mind.

“No baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid,” he sighs, not even noticing the nickname that rolled off his tongue so naturally.

“I don’t want to lose you, Eddie.”

The trembling in your voice and the sadness makes his heart hurt even more.

Not once in his life was anyone ever scared to lose him, yet, here you are, the girl that he loves, scared to lose him. You could have anyone, you could have Steve but you are scared to lose him.

Whether it’s platonically or not – you are scared to lose him and that has to mean something.

“You won’t lose me, I promise, you won’t,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. “I’m so sorry – fuck,” he blinks his own tears away, hating himself for what he did. “I’m such an asshole.”

You only hug him tighter in response.

“No, you’re not,” you mumble, “just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

“I’m so–”

“Stop apologizing. Just hold me,” you mumble into his chest, “we can talk later.”

“Okay,” he whispers, hugging you even tighter.

This is what you need. To be held and comforted by him.

You lean your chin on his chest and look up at him, “will you stay with me tonight?”

For some reason, your question has him stunned.

You have had sleepovers before, many sleepovers in fact. But, something feels different. He doesn’t know what it is but something has shifted.

Something has shifted between the two of you after last night, he felt it earlier already and he feels it now as well.

His heart thumps wildly in his chest and he’s sure that you can feel it because he can feel yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay with you.”

tagging mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @succubusmunson @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #stranger things angst

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imshymorph · 9 months ago

Text

Here’s soft!price, i’m sure you missed him or at least i did. Of course as soon as i say i’ll write and post about ghost i get ideas for everyone and their mother and write those instead.

I believe that sometimes, when John is away for a mission and struggles to fall asleep, he thinks back to moments in your relationship.

Like now, it had been at least an hour since he had left the rec room where the rest of the task force had been chatting after supper. He had gotten ready for bed and finally found a comfortable position. And yet here he was, still awake despite how tired he really felt.

And just like any other time he had the chance to, he let himself think of you. First he was thinking about how you'd probably be knocked out by now, for sure falling asleep while the two of you watched a movie on the couch and cuddled.

- - - - -

How he'd pause it so you wouldn't miss anything, pick you up carefully to not wake you and carry you to bed. Hold you close and pull the covers around you both before pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a soft "i love you".

A little amused smile appeared on his lips when those three little words made him jump onto a different memory. One that you referred to as "the unofficial first i love you".

It had started when John received a call from the hospital, not giving the nurse the chance to say more than your name and at what desk he should ask to see you before he was fleeing base and coming to you (even if at that time you hadn’t been together for that long).

To this day you defend how overly dramatic he was, sure you had been in the ER, but it had been "just" because of a minor concussion. You had wanted to snack on some chocolate covered almonds while watching your show, but when you went to get them you had realised the little container had been pushed to the farthest part of the cupboard. Even in your tiptoes, your fingers only grazed the container, not getting enough of a grip to pull it forward.

Determined to have your snack you had gotten a step stool (which John had been happy to hear because he had worked really hard on getting rid of your dumb habit of climbing on the counter). What you hadn’t noticed was that the damned kitchen faucet had been leaking again. So when you got on it and leaned forward, the stool slid back, the movement making you bend forward and smack your head on the cupboard’s edge. After feeling dizzy you had called for a cab and gotten to the ER. And there you were, waiting for him to pick you up.

He had gotten leave for the first few days and kept to deskwork for a couple weeks after to make sure he was available were anything else to happen. He was glad he had done so, as the first week had mainly been you on bedrest with a killer headache, feeling dizzy nearly every time you sat up, almost nauseated whenever you had to walk to the bathroom.

He now was able to admit to himself without guilt that, despite how much he hated the circumstances (the faucet didn’t have the chance to be leaky again from then until you moved in together to the house you now share. And your step stools have grippy stickers on the feet) he loved the perfect excuse it gave him to baby you and hold you all day. Which had led to the memory that made him smile every time.

“John, I'm bored… Talk to me about something.” You murmured, your head resting on the crook of his neck to shield your eyes from the light that managed to filter through the curtains. “Anything, really.”

“Hmm, let me think.” He murmured, his gruff and low voice surprisingly being of help with your headache, giving you something to focus on instead of the pain. “I actually thought about this last week… You haven’t been to France, have you? Maybe when you recover we could plan a weekend trip to Paris.”

He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you chuckle, although it withered a bit when a small pained whimper followed, the pair flaring at the effort. “I’m okay.” You reassured almost instantly, “I just hadn’t expected the topic to be France.”

A low chuckle left him as well, “well, you said I could talk about anything, love.” He justified it with a small self-pleased smile before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Need me to bring anything to help with the pain?”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured softly, adjusting a bit in his arms. “Don’t change topics now, you were promising to take me on a trip.” you say lightheartedly, earning a small laugh from him. “I’m making a big effort here to recover, I better get something good after.”

He chuckled again, one hand moving to rub your back, making you smile against his neck. “Making the effort for me or for the trip, doll?” He teased, but he froze when your answer came, his heart beating faster than he could admit and the warmth on his cheeks luckily hidden by his beard.

“For you, of course.” It had been so simple, and yet he had to stare at the ceiling for a full minute to recover from it, feeling like his heart could jump out of his chest at any moment. And before he could realise, he had gently held your chin and pulled back a bit to look you in the eye.

“I hope you don’t tease me for the rest of our lives for saying this now, but… I love you, I love you so much.” His words had left in a soft murmur, his eyes matching your widening ones as you both processed the moment.

A small shaky breath left you and despite your prominent headache you lunged forward, pressing your lips to his in what he still considered one of the best kisses he had ever received (the list was pretty long but all of them classified after the one on your wedding). “I love you too.” you had said softly as you pulled back, just to immediately slap his shoulder. “But why tell me now, you twat. I’m stuck in bed, we can’t do anything cute like a date night.”

It had caused him to chuckle then and it did now as he adjusted his pillow and pulled the covers a little higher. The official version according to you was a month later, when you both had snuck away for a weekend to the Paris trip he had promised. You had planned an incredibly cliché day out but pretty much none of it had worked out when a storm had drenched the whole city. Somehow you had found yourself taking cover in a quaint and cosy jazz club where you had spent all night chatting away in a small booth.

He could still remember the adoring look in your eyes when he had turned back to you after ordering new drinks for you both. And when you had leaned in and said those three little words, he had known he had been right to say it a month before. His heart soaring and his whole body thrumming in delight when he whispered it back before kissing you.

With a soft smile and a quiet murmur of I love you, John passed his thumb over the wedding band that hung around his neck along with his dog tags before finally falling asleep.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #captain price cod #captain john price #cod mw2 #captain price mw2 #captain price x reader #john price x reader #soft!price

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 2 months ago

Text

Part XII

Word count: 2200+

Warnings: fighting, swearing, burns, SA, blood

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part XI | Part XIII

Your heart stopped at the sound of voice that followed you day and night, especially at nights, and then raced up. Another kind of tears filled your eyes and your teeth started chattering with fear. You didn't want to admit that sometimes you heard the echo of his laughter in the hallways, nor that his face terrorised you in the dreams. Because if you admitted it to yourself, you wouldn't even be able to leave the bedroom. You forbade yourself to think about it, but the horrors you experienced didn't disappear so easily, they just moved into your subconscious, lurking around in your most vulnerable moments. You wished this was one of them. You didn't want to see it but you had to. You slowly looked up to place where the voice came from. This time it really wasn't just your imagination, it was real.

The red head, Volkan, stood there with a mocking, cruel smile on lips, blocking your only escape route and for a short moment you were back in a room carved in stone. You were completely paralysed. He looked just like back then, the resemblance to his brothers undeniable now that you could see him clearly in the daylight. New was only a scar stretching from the temple to the corner of his mouth on the left side of his face.

And he wasn't alone. Behind him, near the door, arrogantly stood the other male, Lord Nail with a long sword attached to his back. He was waiting for you to give him your full attention. As soon as he had it, with one-sided grin he ran his hand over the lock and part of the door frame. The metal sizzled and melted. There was no escape from here, only a long, unsurvivable fall down.

"You even can't imagine how glad I am to meet you again," Volkan draw your attention back to him. "Last time we were interrupted in the best, unfortunately, but that won't happen again. I'm not done with you yet." His eyes slid down to your chest and then to the hem of your skirt and he licked his lower lip. You felt bile raising in your throat, instantly dirty solely from the way he gazed at you. He moved, slowly heading to you, that disgusting smile widening.

You internally screamed at your body to move, pleaded with any forgotten god who was willing to listen to send you help. A sob of relief escaped you as you legs and arms finally moved and you crawled backward, away from him.

He bursted out laughing. "Stupid woman. You can't escape me. Look around! The only way leads head first down. I doubt you could survive that, but we will test it soon, anyway." He wasn't in hurry, playing with you like cat with frightened mouse. He was enjoying this kind of situation, the power he had over you, the terror he evoked in you.

"Hewn City really brings up dumb women good for only one thing," Nail chuckled slyly, stepping closer, his dark eyes gleamed with lust. You felt sick. "Pity that this one have to die. I like quiet ones. It's much more fun to make them scream. Maybe we could get more of such like her when you become High Lord. What do you think?

"That's actually pretty good idea, but this one is mine," Volkan snarled. "You watch the door! That circus trick of yours can stop her but not my brothers. I don't wish to be disturbed this time."

Nail huffed discontent, but did as he was told. He was so ready to enjoy even watching though. You could feel it in his gazed that roamed over your body.

Meanwhile you managed to get up to your shaky feet, keeping the distance.

"You have quite a stamina," he started circling you like a wolf, closing on you. "I like that. It's pity I can't keep you. I'd love to examine it in detail. The look on Eris's face would be priceless."

"St-stay away," you stuttered. Your heart was about to explode. You had never been so scared in your entire life. You were so stupid. If only you hadn't come up here. If only you stayed with Eris, this wouldn't happen.

And Eris.. Your dear husband. You would give anything to see him one more time. To have a chance to apologize for your behaviour. To hold his big, warm hand. To see his beautiful boyish smile. To hear his deep voice.

No! You didn't want to end up like this. You couldn't give up yet, you had to fight. You rushed to the battlements, readying to shout at the top of your lungs for help. Hopefully someone would hear you. However, your mouth filled with smoke and you were choking on it, unable to breathe.

"Tsk, tsk. Forget that! I won't let you shriek for help." Volkan used the moment and lunged for you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and throat from behind. He easily dragged you to battlements on the other side where nobody could see you, and pushed your upper body down on the cold stone. You were trashing and kicking, trying to break away from him. It was useless. He was too strong.

"Let's proceed," he hissed to your ear as he pushed your legs apart with his. His breath caressed your face and for a moment everything went dark.

"Don't worry. It'll look like a suicide. Can you imagine what will people say about him? Less than a year after the wedding and he already drove his wife to commit suicide. It'll be fun."

You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't do that to Eris. You didn't want him to suffer any more. You pushed with all your strength against the stone.

"But before I kill you," his body was holding you down with ease while his hand started to pull your skirts up. "I want to hear you crying out my name, bitch."

Still choking on smoke, you couldn't scream, you couldn't do anything. Hot tears slid down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed and thought of only person who ever cared for you. Your Eris. You screamed his name in your mind as cold breeze touched your thighs.

In the same second the door melted into a puddle on the ground and your husband stepped from the shadows of staircase. You immediately felt his presence even though you didn't see him and sobbed in relief.

Nair cursed, but before he could do anything, a ball of fire hit him and lifted him off of his feet high into the air and above the battlement. With an ear-splitting roar, he fell from the tower.

Eris didn't even blink, his gaze trained on Volkan's hand on your thigh, just few inches from your butt. Liquid fire swirled in his amber eyes and he burst in flames.

"Hands off of my wife!" He snarled lowly, the sound so dangerous and raw coming from the depths of his chest that you shivered with fear and got goosebumps all over your body.

The smoke disappeared and you finally could breathe. You never thought that there would be a time when you would be so excited that you could take a lungful of air. There was only one thing that made you even happier than lungs full of fresh air.

He came.

Despite the fact that only a few minutes ago he was so upset with you, Eris came looking for you.

However Volkan wasn't ready to give up so easily. He grabbed you, pulling you up on your legs once again. Your back bumped into his broad chest while you had to balance on your tiptoes and something sharp and cold pressed against your throat. You gasped and froze, eyes widening in horror. It was a dagger, the first drops of warm blood already rolling down your skin.

Eris gritted his teeth and flames disappeared in a puff of smoke, his eyes jumping between you, the dagger and the redhead.

"That's it, brother," Volkan growled. "Don't try anything or I'll cut open that pretty neck of hers. And you know I'll do it."

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. It's only between you and me."

"Look at you! How low you have sunk. You not only brought this dirt to our Court, you are in love with her."

"Shut up!"

"How pathetic," Volkan laughed, changing the angle of dagger, so now it pointed under your chin. You tilted head back, trying to get as far from the sharp tip as possible. "Is she so good in bed or she used some dirty tricks to get here? Your coupling with this whore from Night Court has weakened you. I'm sure he got into your head with her help and uses you like a puppet."

"Do you even listen yourself?" Eris spattered. You'd never seen him so angry. His skin seemed to thin and you could see flames swirling under it. He was seemingly cool, calm, collected, calculating, nothing could break his focus. And his eyes.. Those amber orbs alone could kill. "No one can control me!"

"No? Really? To your knees," Volkan ordered.

When Eris didn't move, he pressed down on the dagger and more of the warm wetness ran down your neck and chest. You whimpered quietly. Eris's eyes shot to you. Your gazes locked and for a second you caught a glimpse of pain deep inside them. For some reason this was hurting him more than you.

Muscle ticked in his jaw and he reluctantly knelt down. Volkan started to laugh so badly that his head fell back. And that was a mistake.

That was your only chance. You didn't have time to think it over. You elbowed him in the left side as hard as you could. He didn't expect it. His grip on you loosened as he pulled arm that was holding you in place, to his sore ribs and you twisted to the side, dancing away from his reach.

Eris was immediately on his feet and his fist connected with Volkan's jaw with such strength that his head flew back.

His brother staggered but swung the dagger, managing to cut front of Eris's shirt and scratch his chest.

Eris caught his arm with dagger, the other hand landed on his throat. The air filled with a smell of burnt meat. Columns of smoke began to rise from under his hands and Volkan opened mouth in a silent scream, flames shot from his insides and his eyes. It was a horrible sight. Thankfully it took just a second and before your eyes he turned into ashes carried away by the wind.

As the relief that the nightmare was finally over, spread in your chest, you noticed something else. You again couldn't breathe. Your mouth filled with blood, the front of your dress was already soaked in it. He didn't cut you that much or he did?

Your knees buckled and you began to fall to the ground. Eris's arms wrapped around you, slowing down your fall. He carefully pulled you into his lap, his face contorted in pain and rage, his amber eyes filled with silver tears. He pressed a trembling palm to the long cut across your neck, trying to stop the bleeding. It must have happened when you elbowed Volkan, but because of the adrenaline you didn't feel it right away.

"No," he sobbed. "No! You have to stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me!"

You were making wet squeaking noises as you fought for air. Your eyes found his face in a fading light. You needed to apologize to him. You had to, before it would be late. You couldn't leave like this. You focused on that with your whole being while numbing cold was slowly spreading through your body, the darkness lurking at the edges of your vision. You couldn't feel your legs nor arms anymore. The time was running through your fingers like water, unstoppable.

Eris's hot tears were falling on your face and rolling down your cheeks like your own.

"You can't leave me. Not yet. Not before I-.."his voice broke and he shook his head. "My Y/N.. my sweet mate.. Please, not yet.. Stay with me.."

"E..ri..s.." you wheezed. It was so exhausting to push even so short word through your stiff lips. You desperately needed more air and more time.

The sounds of heavy footsteps filled the air and Killian with a few soldiers and healer at his heels appeared. They were slightly out of breath after running up so many steps.

"Five dead guards and several injured were found. I came as soon as-" Killian halted as he saw you in Eris's lap, the blood seeping between his fingers on your neck.

Eris was shaking wildly with sobs, pressing you to his chest, your eyes never leaving his face despite hardly seeing it. It's been a while since you stopped feeling his touch that was keeping you warm. "It doesn't heal.. Why? This can't be.. My mate is-"

You never learnt what he was about to say because darkness swallowed you suddenly, without warning. The picture of his harrowed expression and damp face was burned into your mind, following you to the nothingness. All your senses shut down at once and you felt as light as feather, floating in a void of space and time.

You didn't make it.

You didn't apologize.

#acotar #sarah j maas #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris fanfic #eris fic #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris angst #high lord of autumn #autumn court

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guilty-ff · 4 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭: 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

Summery: Y/n’s world is turned upside down when she is diagnosed with cancer, leaving her to confront the darkest fears of her life. With Wade Wilson by her side, their bond deepens as they navigate the struggle between despair and hope.

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (cancer!fem)Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: swearing, mental health, cancer

Word count: 2694

The idea of writing this One Shot was a suggestion from a cancer survivor, and it is dedicated to them. Wishing you all the best. 🫶

The day the doctor said the word "cancer," Y/n's world felt like it was collapsing around her. The sterile office, the birght lights overhead, and the sympathetic look in the doctor's eyes all blurred into a foggy haze. She barely heard the rest of the conversation, her mind stuck on that single word, echoing over and over.

Cancer.

She knew she had to tell Wade, but how? How do you tell the love of your life that the same disease that had torn him apart was now threatening to do the same to you?

She stumbled out of the doctor's office in a daze, clutching the diagnosis papers like they were a death sentence. How could this be happening? How could her life take such a cruel twist?

By the time she got home, her hands were shaking. The apartment was too quiet, too empty. Wade was not home yet, and she was glad for it- she needed time to process this, to figure out how she was going to tell him.

But, as usual, Wade had impeccable timing.

The door burst open, and in walked the love of her life, Wade Wilson. He was in full costume, as usual, but even with the mask on, Y/n could sense something different about him today. Maybe it was the way he moved, a little less swagger in his step, or the way he did not immediately launch into some ridiculous story.

"Hey, sugar tits," he called out, his voice humorous but mixed with something she could not quite figure out. "Guess who just gave the bad guys a five-finger discount on their lives?"

Y/n managed a weak smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "You always know how to brighten up a room, Wade."

"Damn straight," he replied, finally noticing the tension in her voice. "Uh-oh. That tone. What's wrong, babe? You sound like someone kicked your puppy and didn't even leave a note."

She could not meet his eyes. How could she? How could she tell him the very thing that had nearly killed him was now inside of her, too?

"Wade..." Her voice cracked, and she hated how fragile she sounded. "I... I went to the doctor today."

He stiffened, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken fears. "And?"

"They said... they said I have cancer."

The silence that followed was deafening. Wade stared at her, his mask hiding his expression, but she could feel the shock radiating off him. Then, slowly, he pulled off his mask, revealing the scarred, yet still incredibly expressive face beneath.

"Y/n," he said, his voice rough. "Are you... are you sure? Like, actual cancer? The C-word?"

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sure."

For a long moment, Wade just stood there, his gaze locked on hers. Then, to her surprise, he crossed the room in two quick strides and pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her as if she might disappear at any moment.

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. Wade immediately dropped to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his gloved ones. "Nope, nuh-uh, not happening. We already did this dance once, and it sucked, remember? So, here's the plan: we're going to kick cancer's ass together, and then we're going out for tacos. Sound good?"

Y/n could not help but smile through her tears. "You make it sound so easy."

"Because it is," he said, with that trademark Deadpool confidence. "You're the toughest chick I know, and I'm... well, I'm Wade Wilson, so we're basically unstoppable. Cancer doesn't stand a chance."

Y/n clung to him, letting the tears fall freely now. "But what if... what if I don't?"

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands cradling her face. "You will. Because you're strong, and because you've got me. And I don't lose, baby. Ever."

She could not help but let out a watery laugh. Trust Wade to make her smile even in a moment like this. "You're a cocky bastard, you know that?"

"And you love me for it." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now, we're going to fight this together. You're not alone, Y/n. Not ever."

Y/n hadn't spoken much that night. The treatments had taken a toll on her, and Wade could see the exhaustion in her eyes, even as she tried to keep a brave face. He hated seeing her like this, so drained and defeated. But more than that, he hated that there was not a single thing he could do to take the pain away.

Wade lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on her pale face. The shadows cast by the city lights danced across his features, softening the harsh lines of his scarred skin. He watched her, his heart aching with a mix of helplessness and determination. He wasn't used to feeling powerless—he was Deadpool, after all, the guy who could take on anything and come out the other side with a snarky comment and a grin. But this... this was different.

"Hey, you still with me?" Wade's voice was soft, barely above a whisper as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her skin, warm and comforting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a small, tired smile. "Barely," she mumbled, her voice weak but laced with affection.

"Good," Wade replied, forcing a grin onto his face. "Because I'm not done annoying you yet. You know how it is—'til death do us part and all that jazz. And even then, I'll probably just haunt you, so really, there's no escaping me."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N's lips, though it quickly turned into a cough. Wade's grin faded slightly as he scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his chest. He felt her relax against him, her head resting on his shoulder, and he held her tight, as if he could shield her from the world.

"You know," Wade began, his voice low and soothing, "I've been thinking... I mean, I know that's dangerous and all, but just go with it. Remember when I first found out about my cancer? I was scared shitless, thought my life was over. But then I met you, and suddenly, the idea of sticking around didn't seem so bad anymore."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The days that followed were a blur of doctor's appointments, treatment plans, and long, sleepless nights. But through it all, Wade was there. He was at every appointment, holding her hand, making crude jokes to lighten the mood, and telling the doctors exactly where they could shove their needles if they so much as looked at Y/n the wrong way. He kept the mood light, refusing to let the dark cloud of cancer take away their laughter.

When the treatments started, and the side effects hit hard, Wade was there too. He stayed by her side when the nausea was too much to bear, when she was too weak to get out of bed, when the fear and pain became overwhelming. He held her through the tears, through the anger, through the darkest moments when she did not think she could go on.

One day, as Y/n was sitting in a hospital chair, hooked up to an IV, Wade leaned over, his face just inches from hers. "You know, if I had known you'd be spending so much time in bed, I would have gotten one of those fluffy pillows with my face on it. You know, for comfort."

Y/n rolled her eyes, a small smile across her lips. "I'm pretty sure they'd kick you out of the hospital for bringing that in."

"Oh, I see how it is," Wade teased, pretending to be offended. "Here I am, being all supportive, and you're rejecting my face pillow idea? I'm wounded, Y/n. Deeply wounded."

She chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. "I love you, you idiot."

"I know," Wade said, grinning as he kissed the top of her head. "And that's why I'm here, annoying the crap out of you, until you're cancer-free and we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming of bad guys and bad decisions."

But Wade never wavered. He was her rock, her anchor in the storm. He understood what she was going through in a way no one else could. He knew the fear, the anger, the helplessness that came with a cancer diagnosis. And he fought it with her every step of the way.

But not every day was full of jokes and smiles. There were times when the treatments left Y/n too weak to even laugh at Wade's antics. On those days, they would lay in bed together, Y/n curled up against his chest. Wade spoke softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that was reserved only for her.

"You know," he began, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her back, "when I found out I had cancer, I thought it was the end. I thought my life was over. But then I became Deadpool, and well... let's just say, shit got weird."

She laughed softly, her head resting against his shoulder. "That's one way to put it."

"But you..." He paused, searching for the right words. "You're different, Y/N. You're not just fighting for yourself. You're fighting for us. And I'm going to be here, every step of the way, making sure you kick this thing's ass."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I couldn't do this without you, Wade."

He grinned, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. "Damn right you couldn't. I'm your secret weapon, babe. Cancer doesn't stand a chance."

"Hey," he said "you know how I'm basically invincible, right? Like, I've been blown up, shot, stabbed, and I'm still kicking?"

"Mm-hmm," Y/N mumbled, her eyes half-closed.

"Well, I'm basically like a really ugly cheerleader. I'll keep cheering you on until this cancer thing gets bored and leaves you alone. And then we'll go get ice cream. Or, you know, find some bad guys to punch. Whatever you're in the mood for."

Y/n closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. It was comforting, grounding her in the moment, reminding her that she was not alone. Wade's words were like a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of despair.

"I know you're scared," he continued, his voice softening. "Hell, I'm scared too. But you've got something I didn't have back then- you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're in this together, and I'm not letting you face this alone."

Y/n's hand found his, their fingers intertwining. "I don't want to be weak, Wade. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, hey," Wade said, gently squeezing her hand. "There's nothing weak about you, Y/n. You're the strongest person I know, and trust me, I've met some tough bastards in my time. You're allowed to be scared, and you're allowed to have shitty days. But don't for a second think that makes you weak. You're fighting a goddamn war here, and you're doing it like a champ."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, but she blinked them away, burying her face in Wade's chest. "I'm so tired, Wade," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Wade's heart broke at the raw vulnerability in her voice, but he refused to let her see his pain. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there as he spoke. "You can, and you will," he murmured, his voice firm but tender. "Because you're Y/n, and you don't back down from a fight. And when you feel like you can't go on, you just lean on me, okay? I'll carry you if I have to."

For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the weight of Wade's words settling over them. Y/n could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, and it gave her a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in days. With Wade beside her, the darkness didn't seem quite as overwhelming.

"Wade?" she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Thank you... for being here. For... for everything."

Wade smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "You don't have to thank me, Y/n. This is what love's all about, right? Sticking around through the good, the bad, and the 'oh shit, we're out of toilet paper' moments."

Y/n chuckled softly, the sound muffled against his chest. "You really know how to ruin a moment, don't you?"

"It's a gift," Wade replied, grinning as he held her a little tighter. "But seriously, Y/n... I love you. And I'm not going to let you go through this alone. Not now, not ever."

"I love you too, Wade," Y/n whispered, her heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude.

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, with Wade occasionally cracking jokes to make her smile. And as the night wore on, Y/n slowly drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved in his arms.

Wade stayed awake, watching over her, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But one thing was clear: he wasn't going to let cancer take her away from him. He would fight it with her every step of the way, and they would come out on the other side stronger than ever.

Y/n snuggled closer, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

As the months passed, Y/n's strength began to return. The treatments were working, and slowly but surely, she started to feel like herself again. Wade was there to celebrate every small victory, every piece of good news. He was her biggest cheerleader, always ready with a joke or a sarcastic comment to keep her spirits up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day came when the doctor delivered the news they had been praying for.

"Y/n, your scans are clear. There's no sign of the cancer."

She could hardly believe it. Tears welled up in her eyes as the weight of those words settled over her. She was going to be okay.

Wade let out a whoop of joy, scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around the room, much to the dismay of the startled doctor. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! You're a goddamn superhero, Y/n!"

She laughed through her tears, clutching him tightly as he held her. "We did it, Wade. We really did it."

He set her down, cupping her face in his hands as he looked into her eyes, his own brimming with tears. "I knew you could. You're the strongest person I know, Y/n. And I'm so fucking proud of you."

They kissed then, a kiss filled with love, relief, and the unbreakable bond they had forged through their shared struggle. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They had faced the darkness together and come out the other side, stronger than ever.

As they left the doctor's office hand in hand, Wade turned to her with a grin. "So, how about we celebrate by doing something completely reckless and dangerous?"

She raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Like what?"

He smirked, that familiar glint back in his eyes. "I'm thinking chimichangas, a bottle of tequila. You know, the usual."

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. "That sounds perfect."

And as they walked off into the sunset, ready to take on whatever life threw their way, Y/n knew that with Wade by her side, she could face anything.

In sickness and in health, they were unstoppable.

#fanfic #deadpool #deadpool 2 #deadpool 3 #deadpool x reader #fiction #marvel fanfiction #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #marvel angst #angst #fluff #disease #health #cancer #deadpool x y/n #deadpool x you #y/n

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noxi3xe · 29 days ago

Text

Unfortunate turn of events

AFAB reader x Pantalone - NSFW (Minors DNI) Synopsys: You're in a tough spot and have terrible luck with finding jobs. Whatever might happen once you apply for a job at the Northland bank?

Warnings: Smut, Porn /w plot, public sex, hair pulling, overall just a quick smut scene w some plot

Words: 3.5K

Author's note:

This is also posted on AO3 HERE!!

this is a quick fic I wrote while bored, the *smut* scene is short and awkward so I apologize, but still enjoy!!

Minors dni!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

»I— I'll fix it.. I swear!«

I beg and plead as the shop owner shoves me out the door. I was a good employee, I really was, I always tried my best and always put my everything into every shift. I slump down against the door and begin to sob. This job was barely enough to cover for monthly food rations.. and aside from food I needed to fix up my house and save up for new clothes. I was going to even look for a second job to cover all of my expenses but now I don't have anything! I do not even know what triggered that immediate reaction, I mean, firing me on the spot? After breaking a simple vase that the shop manager bought just a week ago? From what I overheard it wasn't even expensive!

I stand up slowly and make my way back home, head hung low in defeat. I wasn't sure what to do now, I mean.. I've got to find a job, sure, but that was harder done than said nowadays, especially at this time of the year. Snezhnaya was a cold country all year round but winters were especially harsh. I wonder how I'd survive this year, I mean my roof is busted, my water supply is running low due to my pipes freezing up thanks to my broken heating system and not to mention that one of my windows cracked. With no heating, cracked windows and a part missing roof my house was as cold as the outside and I was barely surviving. I wasn't sure what to do till I saw freshly hung posters in the town square as I passed.

'Looking for hire.'

They said, and I stepped closer, considering the idea without even checking for the publisher. I'm glad I did because my eyes almost jumped out of my skull. It would've been a death sentence to join the Fatui and there's no way I'd even consider taking up this job offer, even if my life depends on it. The Northland bank is looking for hire? Yeah no thanks..

I stumble along and head home, hugging myself tightly, already missing my warm.. well.. as warm as it can get, blanket.

________

I stare at the dry piece of bread and the already lukewarm coffee set before me on the table. Everyday is getting harder and I don't know if I'll have enough money to buy food for next week. I lean forward and rest my head into my palms, sighing loudly. I don't know what else to do, I cannot find a job and donations from doing community service aren't enough. It's getting colder each day and I have a feeling I'll freeze if I don't get my house fixed up. That's when I decide that enough is enough and stand up, grabbing my coat.

I step out into the cold and begin to venture downtown, ready to start my search. I couldn't continue on like this knowing I'll eventually starve without a stable income. I knew I'd have to get up and start looking this morning when I found another window cracked.

—

I shuffle through the thick snow, snow slowly falling from the sky. It's a beautiful sight, the sun rising behind the parting clouds coloring the sky a bright gray-orange-blue-ish color. It was barely 6:30 in the morning and I was already threading through the city, heading towards the commission's guild, knowing I could make a quick buck or two there. Then I'd head towards the community board in the city center at around 9 to check for any new posters. The idea was great and It worked out perfectly.. to a degree.

I stopped by The adventurers guild like I said I would, greeting Katheryne and wishing her a wonderful morning. I accepted two out of three commissions offered to me, seeing as the third involved fighting some Hilichurls and I wasn't very skilled with weapons. I barely used my Pryo vision and even that was when I needed a source of heat, having no other use for the darn thing. The other two commissions were the delivery type. Ivanka, a widow living on the outskirts of the city required a fresh batch of groceries delivered and Jasmine, a local florist required some fresh soil that needed to be picked up from the dock and delivered to her straight. The commissions didn't take long and I was done very quickly, before the clock even struck 9.

I made my way back towards the Adventurer's guild, waving towards Katheryne from a far.

»I'm back!«

I exclaim excitedly. Katheryne offers me a bright smile, opening her mouth to speak.

»Thank you for completing Today's commissions. Here is your reward.«

I grab the pouch she holds out to me and flinch due to it's weight.

»A-Ah! Thank you!«

I grin and straighten a little then look around. People were beginning to wake up, go about their day and open up shops. I turn back to Katheryne and stare at her for a second then ask.

»Do you know if anybody's offering jobs of any kind for a little income?«

She thinks for a second then nods, giving me a reassuring smile.

»Well I believe the Northland bank is still searching! Best of luck if you do choose to give it a try!«

I freeze and look around. The Northland bank? Still? It's been a week and the spot hasn't been filled yet? There's no way I'd even get the job if no other has been able to in the past week! Still I believe there's no other choice I have.. Katheryne would've mentioned it if there were any other job offers available but I doubt there is since she hasn't mentioned anything. I slowly make my way towards the plaza hoping and praying to the Tsaritsa and any Celestial force that might hear my prayers to bless me with a job that is NOT working at the Northland bank.

I round the corner, passing by the local bakery and spot a younger girl standing by the notice board, either taking something off or nailing a poster to the board, I wasn't sure. I approach her slowly before making my presence known as to not startle her.

»Hey! Morning..«

I say and she turns around to look at me then offers me a friendly smile.

»Mornin'«

I now stand next to her and look over at the board confirming my suspicions. She indeed was taking a poster off, the one for the local flower shop. I tried applying for a simple cashier job there but I was too late and the place was taken before I could even ask about the offer. I sigh, spotting the last job poster on the board and my heartbeat speeds up a bit. I groan and the lady looks over at me, worriedly.

»You alright, ma'am?«

She asks and I nod, apologizing.

»Indeed, I apologize, I'm just having terrible luck looking for a job.«

She hums, nodding.

»Good luck, hey the Northland bank seems to still have an open spot? Considered checking it out?«

»I have but I doubt it's smart to get involved with the Fatui..«

»That is true.. well best of luck!«

She wishes me a good day and I return the kind words, watching her disappear around the block. I stare at the board. Town info, news reports, missing person posters, the board was filled with crap like that yet no job offers. I snatch the Northland bank poster, ripping it off and turn towards home, deciding that perhaps this was my last chance. I'll put on my best clothes and warmest smile and hope for the best.

_____

I stand before the large doors, shuddering at the thought that if luck's on my side today there might just be a chance I'd have to pass them every day. I take a moment to collect myself then slowly push the pine doors open, taking my first step inside. The warmth hits me in the face immediately and I stop for a moment, taking in the warm air and sweet smell. The Bank smells like a bakery would and it isn't as loud as one would think. People are speaking in hushed tones and keeping to themselves, not one dares to speak up. The place is clean, and I mean clean. Even the plants look perfect!

I step up to the front desk and the secretary looks up from the papers, giving me a warm smile.

»Good afternoon! How may I help you?«

She asks in a tone so cheery I didn't think was possible. I look around for a brief moment then back to her, forcing myself to return the gesture.

»I heard you were offering a job?«

Her cheery facade drops and she stares at me, dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether she was about to laugh seeing as somebody like me was definitely not fit to work in a bank, or because I was ballsy enough to actually show up to the bank without hesitation and ask about the job? I mean the poster was up for a long while therefore I'm guessing nobody realllllyyy wanted to even think about taking up the offer.

»M-Ma'am?«

I stutter and freeze up when she suddenly snaps out of whatever trance she was in and her warm smile returns.

»A-Apologies..! Come with me!«

She doesn't ask for my information, for even my name nor what the job would be other than working behind a desk! She just asks me to follow after her and seeing as I hold no authority over her I do not really have the right to stop her and ask her pointless questions that have a chance of getting answered even after I follow her.

We make our way up a looped staircase onto the first floor which is connected to a balcony that overlooks the bank. Every millimeter of the bank walls is covered in golden and wooden details, gems and crystals of different kinds. Even the floor looks expensive and neatly polished. I heard that the maids get paid quite a lot and they don't have to deal with customers or any of the Fatui officials therefore I wonder how much I will get paid for doing both! I could salivate at the thought of how well I'll fix up my little house with the hard earned money but I decided to push those thoughts away seeing as there's a chance I'll jinx myself and not get the job if I think about it too hard. I focus my attention back onto the bank worker and offer her a soft smile as she opens the glass double doors for me, the ones we stopped in front of after leading me down a maze of hallways.

»One of our employers should be in right now, they'll take it over from here. Best of luck, Comrade!«

She says and turns on her heel, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath before creaking the door open slowly, dipping one foot inside the room then following with my whole body and finally the other foot. I now stand inside the room my attention immediately falling onto the circular desk in the middle of the room. Behind it sit three ladies, all facing away from each other, a slim pillar extending outward towards the ceiling stands in the very middle. Their desk looks awfully messy and they seem to be in a rush. I step over and greet the black haired one, offering her a smile although I do not get one in return.

»Make it quick please, I'm busy.«

She chews on a piece of gum rather loudly, clicking the pen impatiently. I stutter but step closer, placing my ID onto the table.

»[Last name][Name], [Age], I saw you guys were looking for a secretary and was wondering whether there was any chance it was still open. I'll be honest I have no work experience in this field and don't really know what the job of a secretary involves... b-but I learn very quickly...!«

She stares at me and sighs, shaking her head. Her demeanor went from annoyed to tired in an instant and she didn't seem so hostile anymore.

»No experience you say? Ughh... erm.. well this job requires a lot of running around and a good memory s—«

I cut her off immediately, scrambling to catch my words. She shoots me a glance but doesn't stop me.

»That's no problem, really.. ! O-Oh and I remember things quickly!«

She nods, signalling that she indeed was listening as she writes something down.

»Well you'll have to wait because we were ju—«

Just as she was about to finish speaking she gets interrupted for the second time, this time not daring to look a bit annoyed. Through one of the hallways enters..

The Regator

The doors opened by Fatui Skrimishers as they escort him into the room and he sets eyes on one of the desk workers, unfortunately exactly the one I was speaking to.

»You!«

One of the Skrimishers calls out and she yelps.

»M-Me..?«

The Skrimisher walks over, slapping a pile of reports onto her table.

»Go make a copy for each and every one of these separately, now!«

The Regator stares at us intently and she looks up at him, then at me and finally at the Skrimisher.

»But.. M-My Lord.. I was tending to this young lady, she's here for an interview..!«

His smile twists into a large grin upon hearing those words and he finally speaks, his voice silky smooth.

»Wonderful, I'll take over from here.«

He purrs and I freeze. Take over? I'll get interviewed by The Regator himself? This is a joke..

I step back towards the desk and stare at the man who takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.

»Chop, chop! I don't have all day.«

He says, his tone changing immediately. He moves past us towards the back of the room where stands an impressive set of double doors which leads to another hallway. The Regator looks over his shoulder and I jump, realizing I have to follow and not just stare! We enter another expensively decorated room which seemed to serve as a waiting room. At the very far right wall stood yet another set of doors. I wonder how many this place even has. The Skrimishers open the door for the 9th and he steps inside. I hesitate for a second but just for a second as the next moment I am standing inside of the office, doors closed behind me. I was shoved inside and didn't really have a choice.

»Well then? I sure don't have all day. Come on, sit.«

His demeanor changed immediately, his smile gone and his eyes cold, staring daggers through my form. I approach slowly and pull the cushioned chair out, cringing at the sound it makes as it scrapes against the floor. I cautiously sit down and The Regator leans back, pulling out a blank form from one of his drawers.

»Let's make this quick. I'll need a full name and age, address, previous work experience..«

He continues on but I don't really listen to him, more than what not staring at the blank form. Would my picture go there? Why do they need so much information? What would happen if I just refused and got out of here. He snaps me out of my thoughts as he clears his throat.

»Are you still with me?«

He's becoming irritated.

»My apologies, My Lord.«

»Ah so you can speak after all.«

He grins, sliding me the sheet.

»Make sure to be quick, we'll have to interview you properly.«

I nod and swallow nervously as I rake my eyes over the sheet of paper. He holds out a pen, his long slender fingers adorned with all kinds of rings and jewels. He smiles, although his smile unlike the other employees' wasn't warm and welcoming, more like threatening. I return the smile awkwardly as I take the pen, focusing back on the paper. There wasn't much to fill out except for personal information. Why would my work place need my address? My previous one sure as hell did not, so why now? Well perhaps it was to mail me the check, but still I can collect it at work!

»[Name]..«

He mumbles as he watches me write my name down. I look up immediately and he grins, waving me off.

»Is there a problem, M-My Lord..?«

»Oh don't you worry your pretty head off, nothing's wrong, continue on.«

I hum and skip through the attention notice, then finish the task I was given. I lay the pen down and look back up. He's focused on the sheet rather intently. He reaches forward, sliding it over the desk and I freeze. Oh right, he actually has to read this. His eyes scan the page and he frowns. Oh no..

»Antique shop manager? That's unfortunate.«

»I— Is there a problem...?«

»I don't think your past work experience matches what we are looking for. Quite unfortunate I must say.«

He sighs and stands up and my heart drops. Wait.. so I didn't get it? But..!

»W—Wa— My Lord! I seriously need this job I..«

I cannot believe I'm begging for a job I was at first hesitant to even apply for but at this point it is my last chance, the only means of survival.

»Oh really? Do tell me why this position should be granted to exactly you over every other person twice as experienced as you.«

As experienced as me? For fucks sake it's just some numbers! I grit my teeth and look at him, knowing I'd regret my words immediately.

»What every other person? As far as I've noticed I'm the only one applying for this job, no other was in line behind me!«

His smile falls and I freeze yet again.

»Oh?«

»I— W—«

He slams his hands onto the table and stands up, I gulp.

»You've got guts to bark out against a harbinger, I'll give you that.«

I melt into my chair as I watch him round the table, staring down at my form.

»Not only you decide to go against my word and my beliefs you as well try to demand things from me?«

»I—«

»So tell me, Gem. Why should a job as highly paying as this go to somebody lowly like you?«

»M-My Lord..«

He scoffs and stops before me, leaning against the desk just two or so feet away from me. I look up and he grins widely for what feels like the 100th time, knowing I'm afraid and won't even think about acting out again.

»W-Well.. a tree fell and some windows cracked.. I— I have been barely s-surviving...I—«

I stare at my feet, fumbling with my hands. I know there's no chance of redemption now but all I can do is pray. He hums, grabbing my face and I flinch, staring up at him in disbelief. The cold metal of his rings digs into my face and I grimace at the feeling.

»I have an idea how we could fix this mishap..«

I try to pull away but he grabs at his belt and I think I've got just the Idea.

___

He pulls at my hair, bringing my head back as I gasp for air. Tears run freely down my cheeks as I choke on his precum and my own saliva, barely catching a breath before he brings my head back down, stuffing my mouth.

»Yo-You know— haah..«

He bites at his lips before pulling my head off again.

»I usually don't do this but.. celestia.. I couldn't help myself..«

I sob as he brings me up by my collar, chasing my mouth with his own. He groans as our lips connect, moving together furiously, melting into each other. A string of saliva connects us as he pulls away, the scene is absolutely filthy.

»The way you looked up at me.. dear Tsaritsa.. haa—«

He groans as I trace my hand up his length and attempt sink back to my knees to finish what I've started but he stops me, gripping my arm before I could. I look up at him again and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Suddenly I'm flipped around and over his desk as he grips my hair, forcing me forward. I gasp as he grips my hips, leaning over my body.

»You know... I'm tempted to sign you up as my personal assistant right about now. You'd like that, wouldn't you?«

He says as he slowly slides pulls my pants down, slapping my ass.

»I asked you a question.«

He grips my throat and shoves me further into the table and I cry out. His cold rings making me shiver.

»Y-Yes! I would love to—«

He slaps me again, this time harder before pulling my undergarments off with such force I swear to everything I own I could have heard a rip. I can hear the grin on his face as he speaks again, fingers tracing my opening.

»I'm sure of it..«

He slides his fingers inside my heat, curling them upwards and I jolt, sobbing into my hand.

»We'll have to train you then, you said you were a fast learner? Did I hear that right?«

I simply nod but he frowns, not that I could see it, of course. He removes his fingers with a whine from my side and smacks my ass again, hard enough to leave a mark.

»I expect a proper answer whenever I ask you a question.«

»Y-Yes! Ye—ees My Lord!«

He grins again, rubbing the spot he just struck.

»Wonderful, don't you worry I'll call off my next meeting then we'll have plenty of time!« ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Written by DottoreEnjoyer69 on AO3

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