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dont-feel-so-good-peter · 3 years ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

[𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 (𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟖 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝?

— for now, in this part, he contemplates you being the devil before his eight wishes.

Warnings: mental illness, mentions of khonshu briefly. Very unedited I'll edit later

Eventual smut soon in the mini series

— STEVEN GRANT WAS HAVING A TERRIBLE DAY. First, he woke up in the middle of nowhere in a green valley field where puffball clouds flooded the blue sky. He thought the sky and the area looked beautiful but where the fuck was he at? Secondly, he was late to work —as always but Donna chewed him out for being late; threatening his job. And thirdly, the date he promised a lovely woman never showed up.

And finally, when he called the lovely woman she told him to never call him again. To that, Steven was sitting alone at a Steakhouse restaurant —a restaurant he never wanted to go to in the first place because he was vegan. But everything was coming crashing down on him.

His days were missing, he can't even have a normal date because of his condition. Steven felt sick of himself because he just wished to be normal. His eyes brimmed with tears as he captured his trembling lips between his teeth trying to contain a sob.

Steven Grant felt terrible. He just wanted to go home and cry because of the terrible day he suffered through. He ducked his head down, trying to at least say himself the embarrassment of letting anyone see him cry.

But his cry was interrupted when he heard a chair nearby scraping against the concrete ground. He lifted his head to see what that noise was. His eyes widened seeing a dazzling sight in front of him.

A beautiful woman with [color] skin glistening underneath the mellow outside restaurant lights. Mischief lingered in your [color] eyes but Steven could have sworn he saw a flash of crimson red as you gazed at him curiously. A brightly red-dressed that hugged your curves perfectly as dip curved between your breast. You laid back against the metal chair with a head tilt.

At first, Steven was confused about many things. Why was a beautiful woman sitting in front of him? Why did you choose to sit with him and why were you there in the first place.

He quickly battled his eyes, blinking away the tears. "Don't be shy, darling." Your voice called out, a certain purring tone was laced inside of it. A curving to your smile spread across your lips. A forsaken smile that seemed the capture Steven in the wrong ways, almost forgetting why he was crying in the first place. "Human tears are normal, don't stop on my accord."

Steven blinked confused. He wasn't sure who you were or why a beautiful woman like yourself would sit with him, especially him. His self-esteem was at an all-time low and he felt timid to be around someone with such beauty. "I-I'm sorry, who are you?" Steven bluntly called out curiously.

"I don't get why such a handsome man is crying." You blatantly ignored his questions as you leaned in against the table, crossing your arms on top of the metal table. Your eyes narrowed, it wasn't a glare. No, the mischievous stare never shone away from your eyes; in fact, it grew.

A faint blush spread across his olive skin as he frowned. Steven wasn't looking forward to getting made fun of. He didn't know if you were joking or not by calling him handsome. If you were here to ridicule him, he wasn't going to have it. "I'm not here to make fun of you." You replied as if you read his thoughts. Shock spread across his face hearing your statement. "I saw a lonely handsome man get stood up by his date and I thought to accompany you. Is that okay?"

Steven thought about it for a moment. There weren't that many people that wanted to be around Steven; they simply ignore him. In the depth of his loneliness, he honestly needed that human interaction. Just simple company, he wasn't sure what was wrong with him where people would stray away from him but they always seem to do so. "That's okay." Steven softly said.

"Good." You said with a wide smile. "Tell me, Steven. What's a vegan doing at a steak restaurant?" Steven furrowed his brows. How could you possibly know that he was vegan? "I saw how you were trying to order a steak. Any normal person that eats steak often would know how they would like their steak."

How were you knowing his thoughts? That should have been the first red flag of the night but Steven brushed it off as many more red flags were to come. Steven just wanted some company because he wasn't sure how he would do being alone at the moment. "My date, um, well not my date anymore said that our date was supposed to be at this steak house. Honestly, I don't know why I agreed but I supposedly set up the date? The story is bollocks, I'm not sure if you want to hear it." Steven rambled, trying to cut himself.

"I have all the time in the world, Steven." Your voice sweet like candy. It was starting to become addictive. You were suddenly having power over Steven just by your mere voice. Steven wasn't sure if you were an angel sent from heaven because of the beauty and grace that lingered in your features, your voice —your soul. It was enthralling and captivating. He was caught in a trance just by your voice.

"Oh, um." Steven stumbled over his words seeing the intensity and interest in your eyes. No one has ever shown him an interest in his stories; they usually brushed it off as if he was an insignificant insect. "I sometimes can't remember details and this woman that I worked with came up to me confirming our date. And I was like what date? Because I haven't been on a date for years and I was shocked that I got one without recalling. She told me I set it up which is crazy when I never set up anything, yeah? Details always go past my mind. . ."

Steven told the story, his hands gestured around as he recalled the details. A smile never left your lips, you were intrigued by him. His heart hammered seeing that intrigued glint in your eyes, a smile of amusement. As he told the story, he was starting to feel better as you laughed along with him while he made jokes. From one story, to another; laughs lingered in the air as his steak came.

Steven stared at the steak, he wasn't sure if he was going to eat it. He only ordered it because of how low his self-esteem felt and he wasn't thinking of anything else. He felt repulsed that he was going to eat a steak. "Hey." You called out gently, catching his attention. "I'll eat the steak for you and we can find a late-night vegan place for you."

His eyes widened. You didn't even know him but yet, you were trying to make him comfortable as possible. Is this a mere dream of his sad reality he had to make up for his lack of companionship? "I'm real, Steven." Your hand outstretched and your thumb stroked his outer hand. "I'm real."

Steven wasn't sure how you were reading his thoughts. Maybe you were a guardian angel sent to him, to comfort him in his time of need. He gently nodded and pushed the plate of steak in front of you. The wind gently blew in the air as the cold air hit against your exposed arms, he saw you shiver. "Here, let me give you my sweater." Steven pulled his hand away from your touch.

Steven felt a strange emptiness feeling your touch leave his hand as he grabbed his sweater, stood up, and walked over to your side. He gently placed the sweater on your shoulders, you stared at him with that same glint of intrigue. "To answer your question, yes. I would like to go to a late-night vegan place, love."

Steven shuffled his way back to his seat. Your eyes followed his every move, even though Steven thought you were sweet. You were strange to him, there were those subtle red flags that Steven did see. A flash of red crossed your eyes every now and then, but he crossed it off thinking that it was the lack of sleep.

"I like you, Steven." You said abruptly as you cut your steak. "I think you and I are going to have a fun time together."

Steven tilted his head at the statement. "What do you mean?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out but I just need more information." You merely stated, biting into the steak. Your statement should have Steven leaving. Another red flag he should have seen but he was enjoying your company too much to care that you were saying strange things. "So, tell me, Steven. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"What?" Steven furrowed his brows as he stared at you, shocked. Who would ask anyone that question? "No, I could never harm someone."

"You had thoughts about it before?" Steven shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he fiddled his fingers together. A wider smile etched on your lips as you cut your steak again. "Don't try to lie to me, Steven. I can see through every lie you tell but I'm just surprised that you haven't lied tonight in our evening."

"I. . .had thoughts," Steven muttered. This was the most prominent red flag that Steven has encountered through the night. His mind was telling him to get away from you, his bones shivering under your gaze as if you were reading into his every thought. He should have run but he didn't; he wanted to believe that this was in his head and was a normal conversation. "But everyone has thoughts of harming someone."

"That is true. I have thoughts about it all the time but I'm trying to contain them." You shrugged, pulling his sweater tighter against your frame. "You probably think I'm weird for asking that but I'm a professor and therapist. It's a study I'm doing. I'm trying to see the different reactions when I ask if they killed someone. You can tell a lot from someone's eyes."

Steven felt a wave of relief wash over him. He let out a sigh as he nervously chuckled. "Oh, okay. I did think you were strange." His eyes widened as he shook his hands around. "Not that's bad and I don't think you're strange strange but strange in a sense that's a good way? Like you're a mystery strange to me."

Steven shook his head at himself, closing his eyes at his stupidity. He felt as if once again, he chased another person away from his blunt nature. He knew he was blunt but he always said what he was trying to say in the wrong way which often drove people away from him. A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head. "I'm liking you more from each encounter we have, Steven Grant. Yes. . ." You muttered something incoherently to yourself.

Steven couldn't hear the last bit but he heard something about a soul. He wasn't sure if that was right but he shrugged it off. "I. . .like you too." He admitted sheepishly.

"You have a pure soul. Not once have you tried anything towards me. Not an impure thought towards my body or looks." Your words should have struck him again but perhaps you were just being nice. You hummed to yourself as you tilted your head. "I haven't encountered someone like you in a long time."

"Well, whoever tried anything with you that's gross is a twat." Steven replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I think you're. . .pretty." His cheeks flushed at his statement. He was growing more confident around you which was hard for him, you brought something out of him. He wasn't sure what but he liked it. "Yeah, you're beautiful. I think it's just human decency and the bare minimum to not think disgusting thoughts about every woman you see."

"Hmm, yes but not every man is like that." You commented. For once, a soft smile spread across your lips. It wasn't a smirk or a curve of mischief, it was a genuine smile. "I think I'm done, come on, let's go."

You stood up and began walking away. Steven furrowed his brows as he stood up as well. "Wait, we haven't paid for the steak." He called out as you continued to walk.

You lazily looked back at him, excitement shined in your eyes. "Awe come on, Steven. You didn't want the steak in the first place. Live a little, darling. We don't have to pay for the steak."

Steven frowned his lips. It felt wrong to leave without paying, he paid no mind to your words as he fished out his wallet and pulled out the proper amount he saw from the menu plus a tip. He left it on the table and jogged up next to you. And for once again, a surprised expression took over your face.

"How curious. . ." You muttered, biting your bottom lip and gazing at Steven. A feeling stirred in your chest. He was a good person. "Well, let's take a drive and see what we can find at this late hour."

Steven nodded, following you along to your car. "Are you from London?"

"Not particularly. Normally, I wouldn't come to London because I would burst out laughing at all the accents I hear but I came here for work." You replied, glancing at the taller man. "I'm lucky I came because I met you."

A nervous smile spread on Steven's lips but he felt a pain of offense hearing you say you laugh at British accents. Before he could reply, his eyes widened gazing at your car. A red 1950s Chevy Impala came into view, it shined underneath the street light. "Woah, is this your car?"

"Mhm, I had it forever. It almost seems like I had it when it first came out, doesn't it?" Steven nodded, agreeing as he eagerly walked to the passenger seat. "Ah, ah. You drive."

"What? I can't drive, love." Steven said with furrowed brows.

"So? Why not live a little. Live dangerously." You dangled your keys in the air. Steven stood rigid in his spot. He didn't want to get in an accident with your beautiful car and he didn't want to put anyone in danger. "You're not going to harm anyone. Live dangerously, Steven Grant. Aren't you a little tired of living a mundane life? Aren't you tired of playing life safe?"

Steven stood there silent. How could you read him so well? How did you know all these things that Steven felt insecure about? Because if there was one thing he was scared about was that he would die without seeking that adventure he craves. He always wanted a life with adventure. "No one is out on the street and I trust you. I never trust anyone."

The last blow to convince Steven to take charge of his life, finally. "Yeah, yeah. Okay." He breathed out nervous as he walked to the other side of the car.

"Attaboy, this is going to be fun." You smiled widely, handing him the keys. "Let's see how terrible you are at driving."

—-

Steven swerved around in the car as his hands tightly held onto the steering wheel. The windows were rolled down and laughs boomed through the air as Steven was driving terribly. His nerves wrecked him but the sound of your laughter and the way his sweater looked on you, it made it worthwhile. "This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy." Steven muttered to himself as he drove around trying to look for a vegan spot to eat. Truth be told, he wasn't hungry anymore but he wanted this night to last long.

"Awe, come on, Steven!" You shouted over the blowing wind. No sense of fear lingered in your body, it was like you were fearless of everything and anything. The complete opposite of Steven. "Live a little! This is fun. Consider this your first driving lesson."

"Our first driving lesson is going to get us killed!" Steven shouted, trying not to close his eyes as he turned a street, hitting a curb. He flinched from the car tilting sideways for a moment as he swerved back on the street.

"Oh, we're going to be fine." You brushed off, then pointed at a drive-in. "Look, it's a vegan drive-in. A lot has changed since I was last on Earth."

Steven merely glanced at you confused but you didn't try to correct yourself as Steven swerved to the right, trying to get through the drive-thru. The car hit against a sign as he parked near the intercom. "Oops, I am so sorry." Steven began to profusely apologize but the expression on your face did not indicate that you were mad.

You shrugged. "I have more at home. Now, let's get something."

Steven gazed at you for a moment. You were a wonder; a strange, foreign concept to him that should have never met him but yet, here you were. As if an angel sent you, as if you were meant to bring him that sense of adventure because he doesn't remember the terrible date at all. Or the terrible day. All he saw was you.

—

Steven ordered his food and parked the car horribly near a park where he ate his food as you talked. "This night has been the best night I had in a while." You admitted, leaning your head against the car seat. "I'm glad I chose you, Steven Grant."

"You know." Steven chewed on his food as a line creased between his brows. "You keep saying my last name but I never told you it. . .I don't think I even told you my first name." The red flags were catching up as Steven started to realize that he in fact never told his name to you, at all. How did you know him? He should feel fear but he didn't, if you were going to do something to him, you would have already.

You stayed quiet as you gazed at the timid man in front of you. "Do you believe in the devil, Steven?"

The strange question caught him off guard. He slowly chewed his food as he stared back at you. That amusement glint in your eyes seemed to disappear as a serious expression took over your face. "I'm Jewish. There's been text about him but the devil is interpreted in different religions and cultures."

"But do you believe in the devil?" You questioned yet again with raised eyebrows.

"I mean, there has to be something like that to exist if the Norse god, Thor, exists." Steven swallowed his food thickly. The serious glint in your eyes was strange, as if this question was personal. "So, yes and no? Like I said, I'm Jewish so. . ."

"What if I told you I'm the devil."

Steven stared at you. He was confused at first but then a laugh escaped his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Then I'm Cleopatra." He snorted, shaking his head.

"Steven, get away from her. Now."

"It's maddening, isn't it?" The shift in your voice was completely different from anything in the night as a dry chuckle leaves your lips. "The voice in your head. Telling you to get away from me. That person inside of you causing this distress in your life. You know, Marc Spector is tied to a god. An Egyptian god to be specific."

His heart drummed in his ears as the intense fear that he ignored all night was suddenly crashing on him. The red flags became more prominent and aware as his hands began to shake. "How do you know about the voice in my head? Who's Marc Spector?"

"I can hear every single thought. I can see every single god out there. I can see your mind, Steven. I chose you because you were heartbroken by your life and the person ruining it is the person inside of your heart; hiding away every truth that keeps you up at night." You lazily shrugged as a sinister smile spread across your lips. "I told you, I'm the devil."

Steven shook his head as he let out a nervous chuckle trying to ease the uncomfortable fear that rattled his bones. "It looks like someone's having a laugh. You can stop joking now." His voice wavered as he lowered his food down to his lap.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm being serious. I wasn't wrong to tell you that I'm glad I chose you. You live this mundane life. You wake up every day, not knowing if you sleepwalk the previous night. You keep yourself up by reading Egyptian folklore, the culture, the texts. There's an empty feeling in your chest when you experience the same day over again." You said, shaking your head as you gazed at him with a frown. "Such a beautiful soul that no one ever pays attention to. A soul that seeks adventure. A soul that deserves better. What if I told you that I can give you that better life?"

"What?" Steven muttered, his heart was ramming against his chest so hard. He was sure he was going to have a panic attack sooner or later. "You must be a stalker or something because how do you know all that about me? I don't like this, I'm leaving."

Before he could get out of the car, your hand curled around his upper arm as you pulled him back down with strength. Steven stared at you with fear as you rolled your eyes again. "I'm not going to harm you at all. I'm here to propose to give you the life you want."

"Why?" Steven shakily questions as you let go of his arm. "Why me? If you truly are the devil, why would you help anyone at all? Aren't you evil and aren't you supposed to be red with pointy ears with a pointy tail?"

You scowled, anger flashed in your eyes. "Don't believe what those white people wrote about me. I'm not a man nor a disgusting creature, I can turn to either but I prefer to stay the way I was born." You scoffed, clenching your jaw. "I chose you, Steven Grant, because I saw a man whose life needed to change. You may believe you're broken, Steven but you're not. You just need a push to see your life better, to wish for it better."

"So." You clasped your hands together as that same mischievous smile spread on your lips. "I propose eight wishes, anything you ever wanted. Ever desired. It could be yours."

"And what? Give you my soul?" Steven scoffed, shaking his head. "If I remember correctly, if you make a deal with the devil, the devil takes your soul. I, quite frankly, like my soul. I don't want to burn in a pit of fire for eternity if you really are the devil which I doubt, love."

You stayed silent, a burning intense gaze fired in your eyes as a smirk tugged on your lips. "Give me an hour. Let's go to my club and let me show you that I'm really the devil."

"Why should I trust you? This whole thing is bonkers and I'd rather not get murdered by a beautiful woman and have two white women make a podcast about my disappearance."

A smile strained on your lips as you tried to hold back a laugh. "You're funny. I really do like you, Steven. And I do wish to help you get the life you deserve. I don't murder innocent people. You should know by now that the devil only punishes evil-doers and I looked inside of your soul, you're not a monster. The three of you aren't monsters."

Steven wasn't sure what you meant by the three of you. He was sure there was only one of him. . .right? You were messing with his head too much. He was so convinced that an angel was sent to him but instead, he got the devil. But the tone in your voice was convincing as well, you weren't lying which was a cliche because shouldn't the devil lie?

But your argument was convincing. Steven never felt like his life was what it was meant to be and it didn't start to feel like an adventure until he met you. How could the devil waltz in his life and make it better than any day he ever experienced? He was sure he was going to get killed and his heart clouded his judgment, he was going to trust the devil with his life.

"If I go with you, promise not to kill me?" Steven questioned, narrowing his eyes at you. "Because I seriously don't want to end up on two white woman's podcasts. Or on that buzz feed YouTube site."

You crossed your heart with your index finger then held your pinky out. "With the amount of honesty you showed me tonight which has been more than any human has ever showed me, I will bestow the same honesty. I don't want to kill you, Steven. I just want to grant your every wish. Ha, get it?"

Steven rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "You know, for being the devil, you have terrible jokes." He outstretched his pinky and shakily curled it against yours as you snickered. Electricity passed through the touch, he just made a deal with the devil with a touch. He wasn't sure if he should be scared but he decided to trust you. "You better be completely honest with me."

"I sealed the deal by saying I was going, to be honest. Don't be so paranoid, darling. Now, I'll just tell you the directions and you drive."

Steven was reluctant. He was going to sign his life away to the devil if you were truly were the devil. This was a terrible idea, that voice that he often heard was protesting telling him to run away but he ignored it. This could be a life-changing for him and he could get what he wanted, and there were magical beings on Earth like the Avengers. How far-fetched is the devil?

——

Steven wasn’t sure what he was expecting when you had told him to go to your club. He was expecting something less ordinary but if you were truly the devil then perhaps this explains the raving club he parked in front of. His eyes bulged wide, gazing at the neon sign Devil’s Club. Steven didn’t think the name was subtle at all but he didn’t believe you were the devil, he was going to have to see some evidence.

The dark building emitted red lights, pouring outside from the open double doors where numerous people stood outside waiting to get inside. A red carpet straight down to where the car was at, Steven wearily glanced at you. Those blaring alarms shouting in his head to run, begging him to get the safety but that twinkle in your eyes; could the devil be so genuine? He heard nothing but terrifying stories from different cultures that interpreted you differently.

Never once did they mention the genuine expression you could hold. Never did they mention he would be looking at an angel but, all fallen angels were beautiful. Perhaps, Steven met his match with a fallen angel. “Are you ready?” You questioned with a head tilt.

“I guess,” Steven muttered, looking at you one last time. The genuine expression was wiped away and now lingered a feeling of smugness that crinkled in the corner of your eyes. He opened the door and immediately, as soon he stuck his head out; a swarm of people crowded around him, shouting his name.

Steven was taken back as his shoulders went rigid from the intense crowd surrounding him. “Steven, you’re looking good today!” A random person shouted from the crowd.

“Uh, thanks!. . .random person that I don’t know.” Steven, though he know he shouldn’t seek comfort from the devil, looked for you in the crowd. Right beside him, your arm curled around his upper arm. Instantly, he relaxed after feeling uncomfortable with being crowded by unknown strangers. “Who are all these people trying to talk to me? They must have the wrong person because I barely have any friends besides Gus.”

“They are your friends.” You replied with a wide smile, glancing back to the crowd as you pulled him through the crowd who kept shouting his name, praising him, and admiring him. It was a strange new feeling to be seen by random strangers but something didn’t feel quite right by feeling seen by strangers, he wanted to be seen by someone who cared for him on a personal level. “You see, my powers can get you anything you want in the world.”

“At the cost of my soul.” Steven retorted as you nodded to the bouncer at the club door who allowed you and Steven in without hesitation.

“Precisely. But think about it, you’ve been alone all your life. Nobody actually seeing you but I see you, Steven.” You said, walking beside him as you smiled at strangers that seemed to praise you as well. Steven wasn’t sure if this was some type of cult mess he was getting himself into. “I see your mind, your heart, and your soul. Many people would call you broken and. . .I relate to that. Many people saw me as broken but if you were given a second chance, you could fix everything.”

The tone in your voice sounded as if this was personal. As if this meant something to you helping him, if the devil could relate to him; how bad could you be? Steven knew there were bad people in life but were you all that horrible that people spoke about? Write about? Tell stories that put fear in them at the sound of your name. The Devil.

“Sounds like you understand my problem then,” Steven muttered, if he were being honest. He wasn’t looking at the club you took him to, he was gazing at you the whole time as you took him down a lonely hallway. Of course, everything was a dark shade of red and black. The walls were red, the floor was a dark marble. He shouldn’t be infatuated with a woman who he didn’t know, who possibly kidnapped him and was possibly dangerous as well but as Steven thought earlier. You brought adventure into his life and he wasn’t going to deny it.

“Did you think I was a heartless monster that rules the underworld? And don’t ask if it’s hell, it’s the underworld.” You replied, releasing your fingers away from his arm and opening the double black doors to your office. Steven felt a strange empty feeling without your hand on his arm, he shook away the feeling as he followed you inside the office.

“Honestly, yeah. Like I said, I’m Jewish and I’m more into Egyptian mythology than demonology.” Steven sheepishly replied, looking over the room and he was surprised to see there was golden and black decor with small hints of red like your desk. The golden tiles reflected his weary glances, the black paneling shimmered off the chandelier that brightly shined in the middle of the roof.

Little red statues of different archangels and saints. But the biggest red statue was a devil statue and above the statues was a large screen t.v.. “Well, I’m not like that.” You muttered catching his attention.

Steven glanced back at you. His eyes widened as his mouth went slack. “When did you change clothes?” He questioned. You were wearing a red lace top and black skinny jeans with red converse.

“Darling, I can do many things. Changing my clothes is just one of them.” You slump down on your red leather chair, putting your legs up on the desk. You crossed your arms as you tilted your head. “Please, sit down.”

Steven stride across the room and sat down on the black single loveseat. From the corner of his eyes, a room with the door slightly ajar. There were metal cabinets that he assumed were files in those cabinets. He wondered. . .

“Yes, those cabinets contain contracts of those who signed their souls away. You’d be surprised by the amount of celebrities who signed their soul away to be famous.”

“I can imagine. I watch conspiracy videos. . .Is Beyoncé one of them?” Steven whispered with wide eyes, you simply smiled and nodded. “I knew that was true. . .okay before I truly believe this crazy shit, what do you think you can do for me? I mean, maybe I am a bit lonely and my job isn’t what I want it to be but I like my life.”

You simply gaze at him with curiosity as a smile spread across your lips. “I made a commitment that I wouldn’t lie to you, why did you lie to me, Mr. Grant?”

“Well, it’s because we don’t know each other.” Steven sarcastically replied.

“Oh? But we do know each other.” You snapped your fingers together and a thick file appeared between your hands. His eyes widened from the sudden appearance. He couldn’t believe his eyes, was all of this true then? You opened the file as glasses appeared at the tip of your nose, you flipped through the file making a tsk sound. “My, my, Mr. Grant. You are a very naughty boy. Or should I say, Mr. Spector or Lockley? Well, I shouldn’t bring that up, I may be a terrible person but I’m not a monster who, you’ll figure those people out yourself if they wish to show themselves.”

“What. . . What do you mean?” Steven questioned with furrowed brows but you merely ignored him as you continued to flip through the pages, absorbing the information. “What is that?”

“Your soul file. A file about everything that happened in your life. Everything about you. And it shows your scale balances.” You flickered your eyes up, but you didn’t look at him. You were looking above him, staring at something behind him. Steven glanced over his shoulder but there wasn’t anything there he could feel a cold draft of wind gush gently over him. “Hmm, how curious. You, be quiet. You’re in my domain, don’t forget your place, moon god.”

Steven was utterly confused. Honestly, the whole night as strange as he was growing frustrated with you with the weirdness going on. His cheeks turned red from anger and that sickening sweet smile played on your lips as you looked back at him. “Steven Grant. Thirty-eight years old. Born in Chicago, on March ninth, nineteen-eighty seven. Well, most of this information is. . .complicated. You moved to London recently and you work at a museum. Well, all this information I have is for the other.”

“Other?” Steven muttered, he shifted on his chair and tilted his head. “Other? Who’s the other?”

“Well, this file contains secret important information but, you can find that out yourself.” You closed the file book and it disappeared into thin air. You clasped your hands, taking your legs off the desk as you pulled yourself closed and rested your hands on top of the desk. “I know everything about you, Mr. Grant. You truly deserve a better life. . .I don’t know else to convince you I’m the devil. . .only one last trick up my sleeve to convince you. Look at the screen, it shows your deepest desires.”

The lights suddenly went dimmed and Steven turned his body around to look at the screen on the right side of the wall. The screen turned on and there he was, in a room? Why was he in a room? He was in a sharp outfit, his glasses perched on his nose as he stared at artifacts. A large room that had different types of artifacts, from every mythology out there. Lost artifacts from lost worlds. On the wall, there were awards for his foundings.

Steven’s eyes stared in amazement. His deepest desire was to be a famous archeologist. World-renowned one that everyone knew. In the middle with all the awards, there was a poster. Steven Grant, the man without fear. His eyes sparkled astonish that he did that. He could have that.

The screen went black as a woman’s voice came through. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he gazed back at you. “I. . .could have that life?” He questioned softly.

You nodded. “You could have anything you want, Steven. Anything you desire, anything your soul desires; I can grant it. Do you believe that I’m the devil now?” You questioned with a small smile.

Steven was proven that you were the devil. That everything you had said was true because how else would you get a footage like this? How would you know what he deeply wanted? Of course, he wanted many things but this was one of his desires. He could be anything he wanted. Do anything he wanted. Experience anything he wanted.

“Steven, don’t do this.” A voice called out from below him. Steven glanced down and saw himself staring at him harshly. “Don’t make a deal with the devil. It won’t end well, you don’t need that fantasy life. You have your fish, you have a job, and you are stable. Do not do anything stupid.”

“I’m not stable. I’m broken.” Steven said through gritted teeth as he shook his head and pointed at his reflection. “This is a chance to make my life happy. To make me feel as if I belong in this world. This is my chance to get the life I deserve.” He tear his eyes away from the golden reflection and gazed back at you. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that this was a terrible decision. That this was something he shouldn’t be doing. That this was something that would change his life forever.

Steven Grant was going to sell his soul away to the devil to get the life he always wanted. He shakily sighed as he closed his eyes, his heart hammered in his chest. He could finally live happy. Then, Steven said something that every human would say if they got a chance to have their dream life.

“I will sign my soul away.”

Note: I'm lowkey flopping lmao

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this-is-spn20 · 3 years ago

Text

Imagine… Taking a swim in the lake, inviting Dean but he refuses. You give him a little surprise.

A/N: Haha! Gotcha bitches! I bet you thought you wouldn’t see me for the rest of the year! I got some more inspiration and I’m taking advantage of it! Hope you guys enjoy this little imagine!

-Marissa

----------------

Being a hunter was stressful. Very stressful. You’re always on high alert, wondering if the people you interact with have ill intentions for you. Are they a monster? Are they just another hunter who doesn’t like you? Not to mention when you’re on a case. Jesus the cases. You have to go to the crime scene as some form of law enforcement, look at the state of the body, and see if the MO matches any of the monsters you deal with on a regular basis. If it is then you have to interview the victim’s family for clues, find out the last place the victim was at AND interview the people there to see if the victim left with someone. Oh and let’s mention the fact that you have to research the monster and see if it’s just one or a whole pack/team. Then you gotta figure out their hiding place and kill them, then skip town. It’s… a lot to say the least.

That’s why hunters needed outlets. Many of them resort to drinking. Some hustle some unsuspecting strangers in bars in a game of darts and pool. Some do target practice to blow off steam. Some even just resort to sex. Most hunters do all of the above. You wonder if that ever gets old to them. Now don’t get it twisted, you don’t judge hunters. It’s not like there is an abundance of things for them to do to forget about the life for a while. But, it must get old eventually, right? Ah, the glories of being a hunter. But despite all that, you get a few hunters that have actual hobbies like painting, maybe an instrument of some sort. But you personally loved swimming. In addition to being a fun way to stay in shape, it also helped you relieve stress. Swimming just sort of helped your worries wash away.

You didn’t get much time to yourself living with the Winchesters. Your boyfriend Dean didn’t exactly share your views on how to relieve stress. He mostly followed the hunter’s way while you opted to do some normal things for yourself. You and Sam shared each other’s views on normal hobbies. You and Sam would often find yourselves in the library reading separate books in silence while the distant sound of gunshots could be faintly heard as your eyes skimmed over the pages. You even got Sam to swim with you on a case while Dean was, as usual, on the side drinking a beer. You’d tried to get Dean to try things your way but he was as stubborn as the word is itself. Anytime you were on a case you’d try to find a lake or a local pool to hop into. Most of the time, you weren’t lucky.

One day when monsters decided to give you all a break, you went walking in the woods behind the bunker. I mean, it's not like Kansas has an abundance of swimming pools. You just wanted to get some air. You weren’t sure how long you were walking but eventually, you came across a beautiful waterfall connecting to a fairly small pond. It was beautiful, you couldn’t resist. You stripped down to your underwear and left your clothes on the small cliff and left your phone there so it wouldn’t get wet. Your heart was soaring, you felt alive. The shock wore off quickly as your body hit the water. You stayed underwater for about a minute before your lungs were screaming at you to breathe. Surprisingly, the water was crystal clear. You could see the bottom of the pond pretty clearly. You hadn’t been able to just float on the water and relax in a long time.

You had lost track of time, the sun was starting to set but you didn’t really think much of it. You knew the path back to the bunker. You hadn’t taken any sharp turns. It was almost a straight line back to the bunker. “A few more minutes won’t hurt.” You sighed and you lean back against a wall of moss. It’s not like the boys would freak out, they knew you could take care of yourself.

--------------------

Sam and Dean were freaking the fuck out. You had said you were going for a short walk that morning. It’s almost nightfall and you hadn’t contacted anyone in hours. They checked in with Jody, Donna, Charlie, and just about everyone they knew. Dean was pacing back and forth. Sam was trying to think of a place you would’ve gone. Both trying to put a brave face on for the other but failing miserably.

“Where could she possibly be! She couldn’t have walked too far from here? Should we try driving around and see if we see her?” Dean stopped pacing and had grabbed his favorite pistol almost halfway to the door. Sam had caught up to him in the Map room.

“Dean wait for a few seconds. What if the simplest solution is right here? We haven’t tracked her phone yet. Maybe she’ll turn up that way. If not, then we’ll start driving.” Sammy, always the voice of reason. Dean nodded.

“Okay fine, let’s check her location. Hurry up though, it's supposed to be freezing tonight.”

Sam made the short jog to get his computer and start tracking Y/n’s location. The program spat back coordinates that were about 3 miles away from the bunker. Both boys looked at each other confused and worryingly when they saw the coordinates led to some unknown location in the woods. ‘What could she possibly be doing way out there?’ Dean thought.

--------------

You had just came up from your dive in a row when you heard footsteps and branches cracking under the weight up something. You stayed as silent as possible. You were just about ready to scold yourself for being paranoid when figures with flashlights came into your view. They looked like Sam and Dean.

“Sam! Dean!” You shouted from the water.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing out here?” Dean shouted exasperated.

“I found this beautiful pond!. I couldn’t help it guys I just got excited. I’m sorry if I worried you guys.” You pouted slightly.

“You’re damn right we were worried! You-” Sam cut dean off. “It’s fine Y/N. As long as you’re safe, everything is fine.”

Dean sighed then nodded in agreement. “Sam is right. Now get out of there, it's getting cold out here.” You pouted.

“How about you two join me? Just for a quick dip! Please?” Dean shook his head while Sam looks on with a smile.

“Dean…” A thought had crossed your mind. “Would you mind helping me out of here?”

Dean nodded and reached his hand down for you to grab. When you grabbed his hand you pulled him down. Right before Dean hit the water he let out a big yelp. Sam’s laughter filled the area but soon died down when Dean glared at him. You kissed Dean on the cheek, knowing he could never stay mad at you.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up. I’ll get my revenge on you both when I'm warm and dry.” Dean grumbled.

----------------

A/N: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this little treat from me! Requests are always open! Expect more soon!

Spread Love

-Marissa

#sam winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural imagines #spn imagine

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the-broken-truth · 4 years ago

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How about a very sick Donna x reader? 🏠👨

Broken Truth (Raises eyebrow): Who's sick? (Shrugs) If you can't choose then just do both, Broken. Let the words weave together!

- Donna with Sick S/O (They Don't Live Together) -

When you didn't come to Beneviento Manor for your morning cup of tea with Donna, she knew something was up - no matter how busy you were you would always come to the manor around a certain time to drink tea with Donna and speak with Angie before going into the village to do your own thing.

Donna and Angie almost ran out of the house, down the path, and into the village until they reached your house and knocked on the door - you didn't answer.

Now Donna and the Doll were getting worried.

Luckily - you had given Donna a spare key to your house just in case of emergencies and this was an emergency if she ever saw one.

She opened the door and walked inside, instantly calling for you - instead of hearing your voice respond to hers, she heard a very horrible cough coming from your bedroom.

She and Angie rushed into the room and their eyes widened at the sight - you were laying in your bed, body wrapped like a soft taco with your head sticking out, and your face was as pale as the snow that covered the village grounds.

"What happened?!" The dollmaker asked as she rushed to your side just as you finished cough and looked at her with a weak smile, your face pale and dripping sweat.

"Sorry for not coming to morning tea, my darling - it would seem that I have come down with a very horrible fever." You tried to smile but the moment you moved your lips, you felt another coughing fit come along and turned away from Donna and Angie to let the coughs out.

Donna wasn't standing for this - her precious one was sick and she was not just going to stand there.

The Dollmaker marched out of the room and closed the door behind her - leaving a very confused [Y/N] behind, who just tilted their head at Donna's sudden exit.

After a while, Donna came back into the room with a small wagon of things - medicines, small towels, thick blankets, a bucket of warm water, and...

*SNIFF* *SNIFF*

'Is that The Duke's Chicken Noodle Soup?' your tired mind questioned.

Donna walked over to the bed and wrapped you in so many blankets that you looked like a pig in a blanket with head out.

She placed a warm towel on your forehead and took the bowl of noodle soup and spoon-fed you herself.

After eating, she gave you some of the medicine and the taste was bitter but she promised that it would have you back to normal in no time and you trusted the word of the woman who had your heart in her own.

She sat beside your bed for the entire time you were sick, even though you were concerned that she might catch a cold as well.

Her response?

"I care not if I fall ill, my beloved is sick and I'm going to take care of you. Also, once you are well enough, you're going to move into Beneviento Manor so that I can keep a closer eye on you."

She had that tone in her voice - the one she used when she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Once again, who were you to deny the woman who had your heart?

...Not like you had a choice.

- Sick Donna with S/O (They Live Together) -

It was time for breakfast and the tea was on the table - but there was one - well, two things - missing: The Lord of House Beneviento & Her Doll Counterpart.

Jogging up the stairs and into the room of the dollmaker - you found her in her blanket burrito form with a very concerned doll by her side.

"What in the name of Mother Miranda is going on?" You asked as you walk into the room, Angie runs up to you.

"Donna isn't feeling well." The doll said.

Program Uploaded: MAKE DONNA FEEL BETTER!!!

You instantly turned on your heel and ran back down the stairs and Angie went back to watching the Dollmaker.

After a while, the spouse of Donna Beneviento reentered the room with a mountain of items in their hands; from blankets and towels to fresh soup and medicine, and...

"HOW THE HELL ARE YOU BALANCING A BUCKET OF WATER ON YOUR HEAD?!" Angie yelled, making the dollmaker shrink into her blanket with a groan & the doll apologized.

"Anything is possible when it's for the one you love more than life itself, Angie."

Donna was fed delicious soup.

She was wrapped in more blankets than she knew were in her house, so where did they all come from?

A warm towel was placed on her forehead.

And she was given meds that made her body feel a bit less full of lead.

Donna opened her eye and looked at her spouse as they sat on a still and looked at her with compassion in their eyes. She told them they didn't need to just sit there, that she would call or send Angie to find them if she needed something but all she got was a shaking head.

"The only way I am leaving you is when you are better."

Such a romantic...

And Donna loved that about them.

[End]

#resident evil 8 #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader

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not-using-this1 · 4 years ago

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Sick day cuddles

So I came up with this idea last night but didn’t know whether to write it with Alcina or Donna, so I let let people on my twitter decide and Donna won which I wasn’t expecting but I love her :)

Luciana is going to be the name of the character I write with for Donna as she is my Oc but I will use ‘you’ for you guys as readers :)

This is my first Donna Beneviento oneshot and I’m still developing ways to write her to stay true to her as a character so bare with me!

I may even make a part 2 if any of you like this and want me to!

(Gif isn’t mine)

Donna sends Angie to wake up Luciana as she got up earlier to finish making this doll. Luciana hadn't gotten out of bed yet and she thought that was weird for her. However she doesn't want to get out of bed and so Donna checks to see if she's okay, but it turns out shes sick.

Basically Donna takes care of her girlfriend and even cuddles with her not caring that she could get sick to.

Warning/s: None

Nothing but Donna being adorable, shy even and wanting to care for her girl.

Donna Beneviento x Fem!Oc

Donna had been wondering all morning why her lover hadn't gotten out of bed yet. She usually gets up an hour after her due to the fact she has been getting up early everyday to work on this new doll project. Angie, her favourite doll from childhood by her side as she watches her finish off the hat she had been making for the doll.

"Angie, could you go check on Luciana for me? I'm rather worried she hasn't gotten up yet". Donna asked the wedding dress clad doll, worry on her face was barely visible due to her wearing the mourning veil over her.

Angie chuckled at how worried Donna was but still she stood up and jumped down from the wooden chair the doll had previously sat on. "Of course, but you worry too much. She is probably having one of those days".

Donna sighed at her very much living doll "yes but those happen rarely anymore, now please Angie." Donna asked her once more. In fact she wasn't even asking she was telling her.

The doll ran into the hall and managed to get up the stairs with ease to Donna and Luciana’s bedroom. Of course it's hers too but she has a room by herself sometimes or just stays down the stairs with other dolls aka 'friends'.

Opening the door slightly so she could squeeze passed the gap. Luciana was on her side like usual but snuggling up to Donna's pillow. Angie chuckled at the sight before tapping the young woman on the forehead a few times.

The woman let out a whine and then some more as Angie continued poking her "Wake up Luciana!" She shreaked.

"Go away Angie" You coughed as she turned to face the wall, Donna's pillow still in your grasp as you hugged it tighter. Kicking the bedsheet off yourself as it was way too warm. "Someones moody, come on you've gotta get up!" Angie had prompted to try and budge you out of bed but clearly that wasn't working whatsoever.

"Angie no, I really don't think I can get up today" that immedietely put Angie in 'go fetch Donna' mode. So without another thought Angie rushed out of the room, leaving you to curl up in a ball and complain, you were definitely sick there was no denying that.

A couple minutes of being in the bedroom, nothing but silence and sometimes coughs and sneezes. You had tried to get comfy but nothing seemed to be working. Suddenly the door opening startled you to the point you sat up straight away only to see it was just Donna, a very concerned girlfriend she was.

You smiled at her, she removed the mourning veil from over her face as of course she felt comfortable around you, you smiled again, god she was so beautiful (if only your girls beauty was the cure to your sickness) she brightend up your morning.

"L-Luci my love are you alright?" Donna asks quietly as she sits at the side of your shared bed, you nodded your head 'yes' trying not to worry her too much but you knew she wouldn't believe you for a second especially because she must of heard you whining, coughing and sneezing.

"No, you're not, lay back" Donna instructed you, of course you complied. The raven haired woman placed her hand gently upon your forehead. "Oh you're burning up. Let me go get you some medicine and something to cool you down" Donna gives you a shy smile, just as she was about to get up from the bed you grab her arm "I'm sorry" you manage to get out without coughing.

You were supposed to be going out of the village to the store to fetch a few things and groceries today and you felt the need to apologise just for being ill. This was always a habit of yours, apologising for something so silly but you couldn't help it.

Donna sighs at you "there's no need to apologise, you can't help being ill sometimes. I'll send Tom the gardener out to fetch the groceries." Donna replies, she leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" She adds as she gets up and walks out the room.

Angie keeping you company "you humans are so fragile. Quit being ill so we can continue those horror movies!" Angie oh-so enthusiastically points out as she sits bored on a chair in the bedroom.

You let out a low chuckle as you layed back down and turned to face the doll "sometimes we can't help being ill Angie and who said we can't watch the horror movies while ill?"

That response made Angie jump up in joy and made you laugh slightly even though it hurt due to the stomach ache you had also gotten. "Um, I did. Wait until you get better, Luciana darling." Donna walks back in the room with some medicine and a glass of water with ice in it.

Angie huffed and left the room to go find something else to do like hang out with the other dolls for a bit while Donna sorted you out. You sat up as she handed you the tablets and also a glass of water "Here these should help and at least ease some of the pain and get your temperature back to normal".

You took the tablets and drank most of the water no problem but your stomach really wasn't agreeing with it, you groaned falling back down onto the bed "Why did I have to have the bad luck of being ill" you complained to your doll-making girlfriend. Still keeping your silly humour regardless.

"You don't have bad luck my dear, it just happens." Donna responded but thats honestly not what you wanted right now, you just wanted to cuddle her. So again before she could get up you stopped her by grabbing her blouse "W-what is it?" she asked you, the shyness still in her voice even though she had known you since childhood and has literally dated you for the passed 3 years.

Still you thought it was cute.

You coughed trying to clear your throat "could you stay? I know you're busy but I don't want to be alone right now" you asked her, pouting.

And who was she to refuse, Donna blushed slightly. She would drop everything just for you and besides you're more important to her. "Of course".

You smile at her as she gets into the bed with you, instantly pulling you in her arms, she presses a few kisses to your lips "you'll get sick too if you do that" you chuckle in her arms. "Worth it" she chuckles.

You return the kiss but on her forehead, you didn’t want her getting sick either. If it was possible to get Donna even more flustered well this was the way to do it. "Can me and Angie still watch those horror movies later tonight?" you asked quietly.

"No, just resting tonight." You pouted at her response "buuuuut-" you dragged on.

"No buts, you can watch them tomorrow if you're feeling better but right now I just want to stay like this with you. Tom has gone to get the groceries, Angie is probably-

"Lovebirdsssss" Angie cut off Donna as she waltzed into the room and climb up on the bed "Donna, Florence wanted me to ask you what you would like for dinner later?" She asks.

"What would you like, darling?" Donna asks you.

You shrug your shoulders at first, the raven haired womans arms still wrapped around you "I don't know if I can stomach anything solid so soup?" you questioned. Donna was more than happy to have that for today and even Angie was fine with that (yes she is a doll but she can eat a very small portion of food if she wanted to).

"Soup it is" Angie over-exagerated her voice as she cheered making both you and Donna laugh as she jumped off the bed to inform the cook what everyone wanted tonight.

"You don't have to stay if you want to finish working on that doll you know".

"No no shush, I'm staying now I'm more than happy." Your girlfriend mentions reassuring you that she is just fine with staying by your side the rest of the day. You wondered how you got so lucky to have such a soft but shy and beautiful childhood best friend and girlfriend in one.

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x fem!Oc #donna beneviento x reader #shes so adorable I can't #the most precious girl ever #I just want to give donna a hug #so writing for her is the only way I can express it

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rezzyromance · 3 years ago

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God that last heisenberg fic was just *chefs kiss*! I kinda want to see it the other way around now, so how do you think each of the lords would care for their s/o when they’re sick? Love your writing as always! :D

(I'm really glad I got the opportunity to do this, so I will be writing separate stories for each of the Lords taking care of their sick s/o's. This will be Alcina's)

Alcina takes care of her sick s/o (Alcina x GN! Reader)

Your head pounded as it felt like an intense pressure was being forced onto all sides of it. You could feel another cough coming on as you continued to attempt at preparing dinner for Alcina and her daughters, which you had basically adopted as your own. Since it's been very hard to find any maids in the area, it's been up to you and Alcina to take turns on preparing dinner. Tonight was your turn, but all day you have felt the absolute worst. You avoided your love and the daughters all day, not wanting them to notice. You didn't want to get in their way, plus you're not even that sick, right?

You gripped the knife in your hand tightly, taking a break from cutting the chicken you were preparing to gain some composure. You couldn't breath through your nose, so you had to open your mouth slightly. You're whole body felt heavy, and cold, yet so hot all at the same time. It was overwhelming, but the end of the day was drawing closer and closer.

"Everything alright, my dear? You don't look like yourself and I haven't seen much of you all day.", the sudden voice had caused you to jump. Normally you can hear Alcina's footsteps grow louder as she gets closer and closer, but the pounding of your headache had blocked it out. "I'm fine. Just tired.", you try to play it off. "Your voice sounds awful! You are in no shape to be preparing dinner!", her voice grew loud, but you knew she was only concerned. She came closer and removed a glove from her hand, gently placing a few fingers on your cheek. "You're blazing to the touch! Here, I will not allow you to push yourself more than you need to.", she effortlessly picks you up bridal style and begins to carry you to the bedroom. "Is dinner done yet, (Y/N)?", Daniela asks. "(Y/N) is going to go get some rest. Dinner will be done shortly.", Alcina assures her. "Are you okay, (Y/N)?", Daniela asks, a little worried. "Yes, just a little head cold I believe.", you smile.

Once you make it to the bedroom, she places you on the bed and you remove your shoes before putting your feet on it. "I'll make something extra special for you. Now get some rest, my love.", Alcina says with a warm smile on her face. She leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, leaving a red mark from her lipstick. "Thank you, my love.", you say. She gives you one last smile before ducking under the doorway and leaving.

The bed was very comfortable. Large pillows consumed your head and the sheets felt like a cool, silky ocean against your hot skin. You had begun to dose off, falling in and out of a nap. After a while, the sound of the door creaking open snapped you out of your daze. "Dinner is served, dearie." she enters with a little cart that carried a plate and a teapot with freshly brewed tea. You sat up as she gathered the silverware in one hand and the plate in the other, handing it to you. "I used some herbs that should help with your illness. And, the tea leaves were a gift from Donna I never had a use for. She said they can help sooth a sore throat.", you poured the tea into a cup and took a sip, careful to not burn your mouth. "It's lovely.", you smile before taking another sip. "I'm glad they won't go to waste. Since the girls and I have finished our dinner and they're settled down for the night, I think I may wind down as well.", she says while removing her hat.

As you consumed your dinner, she changed from her day clothes to more comfortable night wear. A beautiful and shiny pearl-white silk nightgown. She then began to remove her makeup and brushed out her hair. "Are you feeling any better, (Y/N)?", she looks over to ask. She looks breath taking. She's just as elegant looking as always, if not more. "I do feel a little better, yes. Although I believe the remedy to completely cure me isn't quite within reaching distance.", you joke as you stretch an arm out, reaching towards her. You watch as a natural blush begins to flood her cheeks. "Well I believe I can provide this remedy, but only if you wait patiently while I clean up the dishes from dinner.", she gets up and throws on a robe and house shoes. You groan dramatically. "I'm not sure I'll make it that long.", you drape your arm over your face. "Well if that's the case then I'm afraid this is goodbye.", she joked and walked by, taking your empty plate and cup and placing it onto the cart. She wheeled it out and placed all of the dirty dishes in the sink. Not wanting to leave you waiting, she filled the sink with water and decided she would clean them in the morning. Before finally going back to comfort you, she quietly made her way to the girl's bedrooms to tuck in their sleeping bodies and kiss their foreheads.

Finally, she made it back to the bedroom you shared. "Sorry for the wait. I'm all yours now." You respond by holding your arms out and yawning. "Poor sweet thing.", she smiles and crawls into bed beside you, pulling you closer to her body. You rested your head on her chest as she ran her fingers through your hair. "My poor (Y/N)." she kisses your forehead. You both giggle and she begins to rub your back. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?", she asks. "Well... I didn't want to worry you.. or get in your way.", you anxiously respond. "That's ridiculous. I love you, my dear, and I want to take care of you whenever you need it. You don't have to hide yourself from me." "I know.. it's just I-", she put a finger over your mouth to silence you. "Hush. You don't have to hide yourself from me and you don't have to reason with me. I know for a fact that I want to care for you. You are in no one's way.", she pulls lays one of her large legs over yours. "Now, let us rest. If you need anything at all throughout the night, do not be afraid to wake me.", she kisses your lips deeply, rubbing your hot feverish cheek while doing so. You nod once she pulls away. "Good night. I love you.", you snuggle your head closer. "And I love you, (Y/N).", she rests her hand behind you with her arm across your body. "And thank you.", you quietly mumble drowsily. "Anything for my love."

#alcina x reader #lady d x reader #re8 #resident evil village #lady demetrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina

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kaijurakunsobs · 4 years ago

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You will feel joy, one day

master list for this series

sorry for the wait y'all, I had to torture myself into listening to the same song to get the inspo I needed for this next chapter which is READYMADE - Ado (it has English subtitles btw)

Hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: It's been clear from the start that you won't go down without putting up a fight, the tone in your voice and stand are nothing but infuriating for Heisenberg, just like his mere presence fills you with annoyance. The factory is enormous and whatever he's doing here could get you killed, but even in this kingdom of oil and rusted metal, there's a bit of kindness.

Right now, you would accept the title of naive, because you were when you thought this man would share his secrets with you, instead...he's giving you a fucking tour of the entire place, wildly pointing and all the doors and doing sharp turns, taking you up and down flights of stairs "I hope you don't get lost, darlin', we don't want you ending in the wrong place, right?" there's mockery in his voice as he speaks over his shoulder, halting to a stop and making you trip and crash against him.

"This is the boiler room, you might want to familiarize yourself with this place in particular" a snarky smile appearing on his lips

Peeking inside makes you go pale and sigh in frustration, it's a mess, you can see cables, crudely fixed with tape, more flammable materials, and so many oil spills on the ground, "I can also familiarize with the rest of the fabric because this dump could explode any day"

His smile falls and that expression of annoyance, that just seems to be for you, comes back in no time. Releasing a cloud of smoke he turns around and starts walking faster, slowly regaining his showman's voice and the exuberance of his movements renew with the occasional laugh, is enough to make you tune him out again, looking at whatever you find more interesting, nose scrunching up with whenever there's something that unsettles or makes you question this man's leadership and care for this place. If you do take the role of helping him, you know you're gonna exploited day and night.

He's not blind or stupid, he knows you are doing everything but listening to him, every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you are following and paying him some god damn attention, he will always see you eyeing everything, dissecting the place, and doing a face that just speaks volumes of how unimpressed you are by his life's work, but it's not like he will tell you about his plans, it's too soon for that, what if you are just a little spy under Miranda's orders?

It rubs him the wrong way how adamant she was on you being under his orders, super-sized bitch didn't raised too much hell, which also puts him on edge, it just doesn't feel normal for him. In any other situation where Miranda has favored him over Dimitrescu, and it wasn't because "mother" gave her that heartfelt speech Karl being all alone on his iron tower, Moreau is the forgotten child of the bunch and has to beg for almost everything, Miranda is already pissed with Donna and her botanical gig, let alone, the way she uses her cadou to just make dolls move.

That left him in the position akin to a middle child, he's just there, occasionally remembered and rarely to give him treats or surprises. He's used to scavenging for materials, do the occasional grave robbing or take the corpses the other Lords leave behind.

So, why did she left you with him?

"Lastly but no less important! the living quarters"

You have been so lost in thought, you didn't noticed that his "fantastical tour" is over, and you are back to the front of the complex...shit, you didn't even paid attention to where everything is, you're gonna get so lost if you try to navigate this place on your own.

After entering the brute closes the door behind you and goes to the left office, you can hear him mumbling under his breath and things being moved around, you don't know how long he's going to be in there, so you turn your attention to the rest of the room.

From everything you have seen, this place is the cleanest one and it makes you think of the layout in your family's factory. It looks like he repurposed what used to be the waiting area, there's a kitchen in the right corner, a couple of sofas that had seen better days, a lot of blueprints have been left on the coffee table. To the left, it's the main office, a lot bigger and the tinted glass on the door has the name Heisenberg hand-painted on it, classy, you suppose that that's his room? you don't care, opting for getting close to the blueprints, his handwriting is atrocious and there are notes everywhere, how interesting, one of the workers used to say that was a sign of a brilliant mind.

"You are not allowed to go there, a'right?" hearing him so close makes you jump, when did he come back? from the tone of his voice, you might be right, it's either his bedroom "This one, however! this one is just for you" he says oh so sweetly when pointing at the smaller office to the right opening the door rather unceremoniously.

Now you get why the rest of this area is so clean and clutter-free, motherfucker pushed all the trash and old furniture in there, it's dusty and the air, somehow, is stale only in this place, you can see cobwebs "Since I'm being kind enough to let you sleep on this side and not in the cellars, I think is fair that you take care of the mess, don't you think?"

"Can't I just sleep in one of the couches?"

"Of course not, we don't want my precious mechanic to get sick, right?" condescending asshole, he even smiles at you, showing you his teeth in what you identify as an act of intimidation

"Of course we don't want that, my Lord! but, I do must say, you have been ill-mannered, showing me around your domain yet...you haven't told me your name when introductions were supposed to be made long ago" it's your turn to give him teeth flashing smile, his going a bit forced

"Well you see sweetheart, I would have done it earlier, but I came encountered a disrespectful brat that decked me in the face as soon as we met"

"Really now? Perhaps, this brat was done with being manhandled and reacted accordingly to how they felt" the sardonic smile on your face grows and you can see how much it pisses him off, and that shouldn't make you proud.

The man is looking, more like attempting, to look down on you, clicking his tongue loudly and in a dissatisfied manner, with complete derision, he gives you, the closest thing to a respectful bow "My name is Karl Heisenberg and I'm one of the four Lords working under Miranda's orders"

In response, you give him a curtsy and use your best sarcastic tone, just for him "It's such an honor to meet you, my lord. I must say I'm no noble but I do HOPE you may remember the name of this pheasant girl, Y/N, L/N Y/N"

He doesn't appreciate the way you talk to him or how you don't even try to hide how little you respect or fear him, but he needs you alive to accelerate and optimize the factory's production, under other circumstances? he would have thrown you down to let the Sturm have some fun, but he won't, at least for now.

"So, Miss Y/N...let me give you a...welcoming gift" he's harsh when trusting a bundle of crumpled clothes and old boots into your arms, pushing you back hard enough that you almost lose your balance "I don't expect you to always wear my hand-me-downs, this is a momentary arrangement"

"Oh my! so generous of you, to clothe this poor village girl with your own garments, I am so thankful for this, however, if I may ask for a tiny favor...can I know where your bathroom is? I don't what to soil this fine fabric with my dirty body"

You don't like the way he smiles at you, with one hand he grabs your shoulder and with the other he opens the door, pushing you towards what used to be the employee's showers, there's mold and broken mirrors, a lot of the shower heads are gone and the only one that seems to be functioning is leaking.

"Serve yourself, princess, just know this...there's only cold water, the hot water stopped working years ago and I haven't felt like repairing it, I hope you enjoy your shower!"

And with that, he leaves you, finally alone but unnerved on how easily he could come back and just stare at you like a creep. But you need a shower, there's grime and dirt caked to your body and it's starting to get disgusting and itchy. So you swallow your pride and leave the borrowed clothes over the small wall separating the showers from the rest of the place and brace yourself to what might be the worst moment of the day so far.

Later you are cursing him as loud as you can, he didn't lie when he said that only the cold water worked, but you would say it was freezing, his clothes are uncomfortably big on you, and smell of faint sweat and like these were left tucked away for a long time, the boots are the best part, these have been broken in nicely and they fit you...who are you kidding? the damn things are falling apart and you feel like a clown with how big they are.

That has left you with the shining crown of the shit show that's been this whole day! the trash in your new room, you had to box so many useless papers, look everywhere to find one measly broom, and use the remains of the gown you came in with to keep your hair out of your face and as a bandana to cover your nose and mouth.

From all the old furniture in the room, the only useful stuff is the old desk, a sofa that somehow survived without being eating by termites but might be infested with cockroaches, and a lamp. It's not much, but it's something.

All this moving around now has brought a new problem.

You are starving.

You can't remember when Miranda took you, let alone when was your last meal or if you were fed during your time in the cell. But Heisenberg's fridge is empty, there's only a handful of onions and those have roots and sprouts coming out already. There's nothing substantial in the cupboards or anywhere for that matter.

You doubt there might anything to eat in this place, but, you better give it a try, better die trying than going to sleep with a grumbling stomach, right? But, you didn't learn jackshit from him and you can't remember anything from the directions Heisenberg gave you.

Fuck it.

Slowly you creep out of the small apartment and peek outside, looking around assures you that the coast is clear. This could be a great learning experience! no matter how much of a dick this man is, there's something of value in his words and maybe, just maybe, you should pay more attention when he talks...MAYBE.

The place is a labyrinth of stairs, broken walls turned into hallways and sealed doors, you do have half a mind to remember which doors and areas he pointed as "out of bounds" for you, which is a surprise, seeing how massive the place is.

Under the stench of grease and smoke, you notice, the tasty scent of stew...close, very close, your poor stomach twisting painfully and mouth rapidly filling with saliva, you start following the heavenly aroma until you reach an old cargo lift, a large man sits there and for a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.

The man is surrounded by bags and crates filled with stuff from fruits to what you guess are various pieces of machinery and other objects hard to identify in the low light "Aaaaah...a new customer perhaps? You must be Lord Heisenberg's new assistant, are you not?"

He smiles with true kindness and something similar to pity, meaty hands adorned with gold rings beacon you close "Come come, miss...?"

"Uuuuuuuh...I'm Y/N, nice to meet you..."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Y/N, you may call me The Duke"

There's something infectious in him that makes you relax your shoulders and walk closer to him "So...what do you do here Duke?"

"What? well, I'm nothing but a humble merchant, occasionally I set up shop here in the factory, especially when I have a delivery or things that may spark Lord Heisenberg's interest, and now that you are here, I will make a note to bring stuff you could use too"

"I...I would appreciate the gesture, thanks" the small sincere smile in your face drops when your stomach decides to grumble loud enough to be heard by the Duke, the man laughing at the sound, making your embarrassment worst.

"Would like to accompany me with dinner, dear? I have made plenty and this could be a small...celebratory feast for you"

"Celebratory? no offense, but...there's nothing to celebrate"

"Aren't you alive and able to walk?" he's so careful when serving some stew in a bowl, making sure not to spill a drop "I think that surviving whatever happened to you, is worth celebrating"

The bowl is warm in your hands and the smell is just divine, you take a seat on the floor waiting for the Duke to serve his bowl and then you dig in, sighing in appreciation when the rich taste of the broth fills your mouth, the softness of the meat and the carrots. You can see the Duke smile with pride when you compliment his cooking, enjoying each spoonful to the fullest.

"It's getting quite late Y/N and Lord Heisenberg is one to rise early, I suggest you go to bed or you end up feeling too tired tomorrow"

"Yeah...thanks for the meal Duke, I really appreciate it"

"Don't mention it and remember, the Duke's Emporium is here to satisfy all your shopping needs!"

You bid the man farewell and do the trek back to your room, taking time to memorize the way to the lift and the living quarters, the man might be a merchant but you want to get to know more about him, he seems nice, he's been the nicest one so far.

The living area feels cold and so terribly empty, there's no sign of Heisenberg anywhere, which you are thankful for. Only after entering your room and laying on your "bed", waiting a bit to hear any sound that might belong to the Lord, when only the sounds of the factory echo back to you do you dare to cry.

It starts slowly, your eyes fixated on the ceiling, then the flood gates open and you start to sob and scream, tears running down the side of your face to get lost in your hair leaving wet patches in their wake. But your crying evolves into fear, panic, raged breathing, and asking hands, all the weight of what happened today swallows you whole.

You don't know where to start, the way you growled at Heisenberg in the church, HOW he was able to move heavy metal without touching it? and all those corpses suspended ton hooks...the howls and things banging against the doors, the cruelty in how Heisenberg tossed you around and screamed in your face. How do you even managed to put and kept that brave face on when you were so scared is beyond you, you did it and that's enough.

The rapid and irregular movement of your chest does nothing but make your side hurt, the pain shoots up and down your body, making you curl on your side to alleviate the pressure if only a bit.

You want to die...but not like this, not terrified for your existence, not at the hands of a volatile man that can crush you with his hammer any day.

You want to live, but to live with your life depending on how well you perform your role? that's not a life at all.

Exhaustion and fatigue eventually take you away into a dreamless sleep, your last thought is...what's going to happen tomorrow?

You don't know, but as the Duke said, you survived whatever Miranda did to you and you will survive this too, no matter what, you will live.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #re8 #x reader #the duke

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 28: The Pot Boils Over

Warnings:” strong language, sexual themes

Summar: Juniper finally comes clean to Heisenberg…

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Their interactions for the following days didn’t fare better. Juniper was touchy and moody, almost bursting into tears at some of Heisenberg’s comments. He was at a loss, used to her being a bantering partner.

She’d started avoiding the workshop, from a mixture of the smell and her recent lack of patience for his joking. At night Heisenberg would frequently hear her crying softly when she thought he’d fallen asleep or while she hid away in the bathroom.

It broke his heart.

He knew she was suffering, but wouldn’t talk to him. When he would attempt to get answers from her it seemed to push her father away.

So he started focusing on work more, spending more time away from the apartment.

His worry worked its way into a sharp blade, slicing into him when his mind would wander.

Was it his fault? It must be. That’s why she wouldn’t speak to him…

The thought swam darkly around his brain.

How did he fuck up?

The worry was blanketed with anger and annoyance, his usual response to hard to process emotions. He knew what being angry felt like, it was normal. It was easier to handle, he thought.

But it made him simmer like a kettle, ready to boil over every second. The deeper he sunk into worry and self-loathing without any type of answers, the higher the heat rose on the kettle.

After their most recent spout, it finally did boil over…

Heisenberg sat reading at the table, smoking a cigar quietly. Juniper bruised herself with cleaning up the dishes after their most recent meal. The smoke hit her face, making her wrinkle her nose. For some odd reason it sent a sharp bolt of annoyance through her.

“Do you have to do that?” She grumbled as she wiped down the table with a damp rag.

“What??” Heisenberg looked up sharply, confused.

“Smoke at the table while I’m cleaning.”

“And? It never bothered you before.”

“It’s bothering me now!” She snapped.

Heisenberg dropped the cigar in the ashtray, fixing her with a narrow gaze. “Just deciding to be a complete bitch to me or does it just come naturally?” He barked, leaning back in the chair.

“Excuse me?” Juniper threw down the rag, turning to meet his gaze.

They stared down at each other for a long, tense moment. Juniper was the first to break, looking away with glassy eyes.

“You are such an asshole.” She began to walk away, hiding her face.

“Me?” Heisenberg stood, anger rising, “You’ve been treating me like shit.” He went after her, grabbing her wrist in a strong hold. Juniper stopped dead but didn’t look back at him.

“Why have you been acting so damn weird?”Heisenberg asked, his brows knotting together. His voice was rough and accusing.

“Getting all buddy-buddy with Donna?” He walked towards her, “Being quiet as hell around me? Acting like I’m going to bite, what’s going on?”

Juniper’s shoulders shook a bit, refusing to turn toward him. He didn’t take the silence well, grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him.

“Juniper, fucking talk to me!” He almost begged, “If I fucked up just tell me.”

He saw tears start to fall from her eyes, her lips trembling. Heisenberg heard the cups and plates in the cabinets begin to shake and clink together.

He took a breath, trying to calm his voice a bit, realizing she was much more distressed then she was letting on.

“Buttercup?” He wiped a tear away, “What did I do?”

Juniper pushed him away a bit, “W-we messed up Karl.” On the chairs fell away from the table with a loud clatter, papers swirled around them.

Confusion clouded his eyes.

“K-Karl,” she stammered through tears, “I’m pregnant!”

His grip fell from her, his face losing color. In the wake of his silence she started to blurt everything out.

“I've been asking Donna to teach me how to sew and make clothes so I c-could maybe make things later.” Her hands covered her face, “And I've been trying to c-collect things that wouldn’t be suspicious.”

Heisenberg stumbled back a bit, his lips a thin line. His mind was a garbled mess, stomach totally flipping as he almost lost his footing. The floor felt like jelly under his legs and thought hammered through his brain. So much made sense now but damn…it was a lot to take in.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” Juniper cried, “I thought you would hate me.” The papers and small bits of metal began to fly erratically around them, silverware rattled in the drawers as the kitchen knives threatened to pull free from the block.

She gulped, looking up at him, “Please say something. Say anything!”

She almost begged, “Just yell at me Karl, please!”

Heisenberg looked almost dumbfounded, eyes wide, as he asked in a low voice, “Buttercup, you’re pregnant?”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so…I took a test.” She looked down, “And my stomach feels different…”

“Fuck.” Heisenberg whispered, crumpling into the kitchen chair. His hands balled into his hair.

Juniper stood still for a moment, trying to control her breathing. Everything in the room started to slow until the debris around them fell to the floor. The cabinets grew silent as the soft hum died. Juniper wiped her eyes with a shaking hand.

“How long?” Heisenberg’s voice was hardly auditable.

“About a month.” She admitted, padded closer.

He put his face into his hands, his thoughts a storm in his head.

“D-Do you want me to leave?” Juniper asked, her voice wavering.

He looked up suddenly at her, “Of course not! Just give me a fucking second ok.”

She nodded, worrying her hands.

It was a while before they had a real conversation about the matter, eventually sitting down to talk.

Shocked couldn’t begin to describe how he felt.

He shifted between bewilderment and fear.

“Heis…” Juniper knocked on the side of the doorway to the shop.

Heisenberg didn’t move, his chin resting on his folded hands, “Hm?”

“Can…can we talk?” Juniper’s voice was heavy, almost pleading.

“…sure.” He answered, his voice was not tinged with any ill.

She came forward, pulling up a chair to sit close to him. They sat in silence for a long moment before words tugged at her lips.

“You haven’t broken anything.” She observed, almost surprised.

“I’m not angry.” He said frankly, not moving his head to look at her.

“Then…what are you?” She ventured.

He mulled over his answer, not truthfully sure himself.

“Confused.” He finally admitted.

Juniper nodded in understanding, even though she had time to process everything.

“And a bit upset.” He went on, “That you waited so long to tell me.” Juniper opened her mouth but he continued, “We’re in this together…you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide shit from me.”

His words stung a bit but she understood his hurt.

“I’m sorry.” She reached out a hand, fingers finding his coat sleeve.

He gave a little rumble of acknowledgment.

“This also makes our lives a lot more complicated…everything is fucked.”

“Does it have to be?”

“Well it sure as hell puts me on a tight time limit on the whole ‘revolution’ thing.” He snorted.

When she didn’t speak he rattled on, “Your in danger…so much more than before. I’m not losing you again.”

His voice was determined, almost breaking under the weight of his promise to himself.

“And about…about the baby?” She held onto his sleeve even tighter, worry making her tremble a bit.

His lips were a thin line, eyes clouded. “We’ll figure it out…” he sighed, “Won’t let that bitch have it either.”

His words gave her a bit of relief; hearing his want to protect not only her but the baby quelled her fears of him rejecting the child altogether

“…you said you took a test?” He ventured, words breaking the silence that had blanked the room.

Juniper nodded, “I bought one from the Duke.”

“Where is it now?” He asked.

Juniper shifted uncomfortably.

“What did you do with it, Doll?”

“I…panicked.”

“Where?”

Her eyes teared up a bit, “I-I threw it off the balcony…into the scrapyard.”

Heisenberg gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. There was a silence between them for a moment before Heisenberg stood, “I have to find it.”

He paused, “What does it look like?”

“A little pink and white stick…made out of plastic.” She admitted.

“Of course it fucking is…”

It took him three days of sifting through scrap to find the test. When he found it he burned it until it was unrecognizable then disposed of it in the deepest reaches of the factory. Now that it was gone it gave him a small semblance of relief.

Even now Juniper acted like more of a mother then Miranda had: speaking fondly about the growing life and in the soft tones of her voice. The very fact she strove to learn new skills for the future child’s benefit spoke volumes to him.

He was still on the fence with how he felt, a mixture of fear and confusion. But seeing her be the thing he never had brought hope to flutter about his chest like a young bird.

Neither of them knew, or could recall, their true parents, no memories to guide them now. But they had each other and a dug in desire to keep this child safe.

The most important thing now was secrecy.

Heisenberg knew it couldn’t have just been a miracle of nature. It had to be the work of Mother Miranda, some sick scheme to breed a vessel from her strongest subject.

But fuck all of that.

This was his, his blood, his baby.

And he would do everything in his power not to let her sink her golden claws into it.

That night as they got ready for bed together Heisenberg practically scooped Juniper up and took her to the bed. She made little sounds of protest but he was persistent. Now that the immediate threats were sorted out he just craved comfort.

He flopped onto the bed, nuzzling into her. She wiggled into a more comfortable position on him, cupping a hand over his strong jaw.

“What’s all this for?” She smiled.

“You’ve been so worked up recently that you’ve been a prickly bitch to me for weeks…I just want to hold you ok.” He huffed out.

Juniper looked away, the guilt flooding back into her. She blinked away the threatening salt water, her heart clenching. She hugged onto him, “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

He accepted the hug, nuzzling into her hair and huffing out deeply. “I know…” he murmured.

They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s heartbeat and warmth. Tension seemed to flow from them, the comfort washing away weeks of stress.

“I love you.” Juniper murmured into his chest.

“I love you too, buttercup.” He whispered back, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head.

Heisenberg was still concerned for her and their situation beyond words, but the heaviness of the world could wait. He lay back, holding Juniper to his chest as he thought. The fact she carried his baby at that very moment still baffled him. Something deep in his heart sparked to life, burning brighter and hotter the more it all settled into reality in his mind.

He squeezed her softly, earning a little mewl.

Fuck…he was going to be a Father.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil

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cosmic-has-moved · 4 years ago

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Claw Problems [Alcina/Donna|NSFW]

Even after a year after her turning, Alcina still had troubles putting her claws back in, but Donna helps her.

It had been nearly a year since Mistress’s turning, her illness now gone and replaced with this monstrous body. She was grateful towards Miranda for curing her, even if it had it’s troubling side effects.

One of said side effects was the ability to grow long claw like nails, they were fascinating at first to her but she did come to a troubling hitch with this ability.

She couldn’t put them back in.

___

Alcina Dimitrescu sat on her bed clenching her claw like hand, grunting in frustration. No matter how much she had tried, the damned things wouldn’t go back in.

She sighed in defeat and laid back, making sure to not lay on her sharp hand. She could call Miranda for help but she was busy for the day, than again even she probably wouldn’t know what to do.

A knock at the door jolted Alcina to sit up before she told the knocker to come in, it was Donna Beneviento.

Alcina smiled and gestured her to come closer, making sure to hide her claw. The young gloomy woman walked over to the tall Mistress and sat down next to her, this was one of the rare times she has seen Donna without her doll and veil.

“I came here because I heard your workers mentioning you were having problems.” Her voice was quiet yet soft, almost too afraid to speak.

Having getting caught, Alcina lifted up her hand showing off the elongated nails. She laughed softly. “Well they’re not wrong.” Placing the hand down on her lap, she sighed. “I still can’t manage to retract it. I tried many things but alas, nothing.”

Donna gently held the sharp hand and examined it up close, the Mistress didn’t mind the touch as long as she didn’t do anything too fishy.

Whilst pressing her fingers against Alcina’s index finger, she spoke up. “Mother Miranda has mentioned to me that it would likely take time for these kind of changes to in a way, listen to their owner.” She slid her own index across Alcina’s middle claw. “But I will say this is very amazing to look at, Mistress.”

Smirking at the brunette as she stares in awe at her handy weapon, “Well if they don’t go in soon, you can keep them.” the tall lady laughed at the woman’s slightly unsettled expression. “Oh I am only joking, I can be quite patient.”

While eyeing the tip of her claws, Alcina caught something glint in her eyes. She maybe had thought of something, and that she did.

Donna brought the index claw up to her lips and gave it a slow lick, the action causing the Mistress to flush red. “What are you-” She cut herself off as Donna did it again, but longer.

She didn’t know why, but her body stirred as the young woman continued licking her claws. Was this some weird fetish she had? Well whatever it was, it was helping. The claw got shorter and shorter, but Alcina’s body became hot. Biting her bottom lip as Donna moved over to the middle finger, Alcina breathed out heavily and crossed her legs.

For a quick moment the Mistress could’ve sworn Donna locked eyes with hers, a look of lust filled her eyes. This was driving Alcina crazy, but she couldn’t interrupt because this could possibly be the only solution to her problem. If only she hadn’t had noticed Donna’s sly smirk.

After finishing with the third finger and continuing to the pinkie, Alcina gasped sharply as she scrapped her teeth against the knives. The feeling causing a shiver to go down the Mistress's spine, she couldn’t hold it anymore.

Without a second thought, Alcina grabbed Donna’s shirt collar and pulled her close into a hot messy kiss. Their lip clashing with one another and their tongue swirling together with no signs of a break, their muffled moans filling the quiet room.

Soon enough Donna had enough with the lack of oxygen and gently pushed Alcina away to breathe, now it was Donna that was blushing shyly and Alcina grinned at this. Pinning the small woman down to bed and restraining her wrist above her head, the large woman used her remaining claw to unbutton her shirt and exposing her black lacy bra, Donna trying her best to hide her embarrassed expression.

Cutting the bra undone and flicking them away, Alcina’s eyes light up at the sight of the doll maker’s shirtless body. It caused her body to develop a craving, certainly a little bite won’t hurt.

Pressing her lips against one of Donna’s nipples and sucking on it, her ears twitched as it began getting filled with her sudden moans. The sucking wasn’t enough for the Mistress though, she bit down hard on the woman’s breast and drew blood, ignoring Donna’s cries of pain.

The taste sent pulses of pleasure through her body, but she knew she couldn’t continue with the same location. She kissed up her body to her neck and nibbled on it, enjoying hearing Donna moan softly.

After biting into her for another taste, she went on to do it to more areas of her body. Soon her whole top body was nearly covered in bite marks, the sight was quite erotic.

Glancing at her thumb that still had its claw out and to the fragile woman below her, she pressed her claw against Donna’s lips and watched eagerly as she instinctively began licking the blade. The licking quickly becoming sucking as she took the shrinking claw in her mouth, her tongue doing its best to wrap itself around the Mistress’s finger.

After her thumb returned to its normal self, Alcina removed it from Donna’s mouth leaving a thin string of saliva between her thumb and her mouth. “Good girl.” Alcina whispered before using her now normal hand to grip onto the woman’s face. “Now what else can that mouth of yours do, Donny?”

She slowly leaned in close to her for a kiss, Donna eagerly melting into it. Just like the kiss before it was hot and messy, the only new addition was the Mistress biting Donna’s tongue for a little bit of extra flavour.

During the make out session, Alcina slid her hand down Donna’s chest towards her abdomen. She could feel the brunette wiggle her waist to loosen the dress for the Mistress, she traced her fingers against Donna’s abdomen causing her to trembling.

She went to slide her fingers under her panties and went to slowly removed them.

But a knock at the door interrupted the motion and caused the two to stop what they were doing, both of them tidying up themselves before Alcina called in whoever was at the door.

It was a maiden coming to inform the Mistress of her regular fruit crate arriving, Donna sitting there fully clothed fidgeting with her thumbs as the two spoke. The Maiden soon leaving the two alone.

Getting up off the bed and rubbing her hand, Alcina smiled at Donna. “Sorry to cut things so short, sweetie. I have a few things to takes care of.” She went to walk passed her but stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. “But I will notify you if I have my… Problems again.” A shuddering moan escaped the young woman’s lips as the tall Mistress brushed her fingers against her ears before leaving her.

The End

#Cosmic FanFic #Re Village fanfic #re village #resident evil fanfic #resident evil village #resident evil #donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu #doncina #re doncina #alcina x donna #fanfic #fanfiction #suggestive #lemon fic #lemon

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soyforramen · 4 years ago

Note

If you have time/energy, 41 for the bughead prompts pls! It’s the “overhears they have feelings for you.”

Now that i finally have the time, here’s some fluff to counter the angst!

Betty paused at the door to the Blue and Gold office when she heard voices. This late in the day, it was usually only her and Jughead still working on the college newspaper. Or, rather, while she continued working diligently on page layouts while he worked on homework on the couch.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Jughead said. “Right? So I should just say it.”

She peeked in through the crack in the door and saw him pacing back and forth, his hands waving wildly in the air.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, why haven’t you said it?” came a reply from Toni.

Strange; Toni was always the most punctual person on their team. Her photos had been ready to print for over a week, and she rarely spent her free time in the office.. Unless Jughead had dragged her into his usual shenanigans regarding things that went bump in the night?

“Because –“

Jughead stopped and made a pained noise. Unsympathetic, Toni snickered, and even Betty had to cover her mouth from laughing. As much as she enjoyed his company, even Betty had to admit it was amusing to see him get so wrapped up in himself.

“It’s just three words,” Toni pointed out. “And it’s not like it will kill you to say it.”

“She might.”

“Betty is not going to murder you –“

“Not her, Cheryl.”

This time, Toni burst out in peals of laughter that covered up Jughead’s response. Curious to hear her cousin’s name, Betty leaned closer to the open door. The fiery tempered red-head was as much of a fan of Jughead’s as he was of hers, and that wasn’t saying much of anything.

“Cheryl is why you’re afraid to say ‘I love you‘?”

Jughead grumbled something inaudible, and Betty glanced up and down the halls to make sure she was alone. This close to information so pertinent to her life – Jughead was in love???? When did that happen??? Why??? - the last thing she needed was someone as boisterous as Kevin or Veronica yelling her name down the hall. Pressing herself against the door frame, Betty bit her lip and tried to calm her pounding heart.

“The last time someone even mentioned asking Betty out –“

Betty had to bite her tongue to keep from starting. A pen fell from her pocket and echoed in the empty halls. There was a silence, and she waited to be found out.

“That was because it was Reggie Mantle doing the asking,” Toni pointed out, completely ignorant of being eavesdropped on. She continued in a less than sure voice. “Besides, Cheryl … doesn’t dislike you. She’d probably even be happy with you if you got Betty out of the apartment for something that wasn’t school or work. You know, like a date? The thing people ask about when they like someone?”

Now too nervous to stay still, Betty rushed from the door, clutching her bag to her chest, and fled to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she couldn’t help but clasp her hands together in glee. She and Jughead had danced around each other for over a year now and the closest they could get to anything called ‘dating’ had been a late-night stake out to see if the Dean of the Journalism school really was moonlighting as a click bait writer for BuzzFeed.

She breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Try as she might, she couldn’t contain the thrill of hearing that Jughead Jones, the guy she’d been crushing on since freshman orientation, liked her. Not just liked. He loved her. Betty couldn’t help but hug herself.

Straightening her shirt and steeling herself to be as forward as she imagined Cheryl would be, Betty stepped out of the bathroom and made her way, once more, to the Blue and Gold office. As she neared the office, Toni emerged and sent her a wink.

“Good luck in there, boss,” Toni said with a salute.

Betty bit down a response and opened the door. Jughead jumped up as if electrocuted, his face white at the sight of her. Any other time, Betty would have rushed towards him, asking him twenty different questions to try and figure out why he looked so ill. Now, though, it was all she could do to keep from smiling.

“Good evening, Jughead,” she chirped.

He stammered a reply and she set her backpack on her desk.

“You know what I really love?” she asked, unable to help herself, especially when a faint blush rose to his cheeks. “Those wontons you got last week. Where was that from again?”

“Klump’s Kafeteria,” Jughead said. “Did you get my article?”

Betty nodded, disappointed he’d jumped so quickly to business. “I did. I really love,” she paused, sitting down on her desk and pulling her laptop out, “the way you captured the emotions in your review. Especially whereyou talk about the mise-en-scene and how well it pulled everything together. It made the recommendation that more meaningful.”

“Honestly? I couldn’t stand the movie,” Jughead said. He rolled his eyes and sat on the corner of her desk.

And suddenly, the spell was broken, and her regular, normal Jughead was back in front of her. She watched his face as he complained about plot pacing and script-incongruities. Only half paying attention, Betty wondered if he’d finally make a move. It would be even better, though, if he’d finally notice that she’d been flirting this whole time.

“Regardless, it was a very well written piece,” Betty said when he’d finished. “You know what I also love?”

Jughead raised an eyebrow at her, finally beginning to notice a trend. “Those weird blue macaroons that taste like Peto-Bismol from Chez Bonuit?”

She flicked her pen at him and scowled. “You just have a warped sense of taste after eating all that grease and sugar at Pop’s.”

“And yet who’s the one also asking me to bring them a strawberry milkshake whenever they find out I’m eating all that grease and sugar?”

“It’s one of the little things I love you for,” Betty said, slipping it in as casually as she could. “That and the lattes you bring me after a late night editing.”

Jughead’s eyes flew open and heat bubbled up in her cheeks. Pressing on, Betty opened up a browser on her computer and turned it to him.

“I also love, and I hope you will too, that R.R.J. Swift is putting out a new Play of Chairs book next month.”

His face light up and he crowded in next to her, their faces a few inches from the screen. “How did I miss this? There’s no way they could get that to print so quickly.”

“Everyone in printing was told it was a new Donna Sweet novel,” Betty said, clicking a few times until a different website came up, “so it’s been hush-hush until he broke the news an hour ago.”*

“Finally, we can see what happens to Trienne of Barth.”

She elbowed him lightly. “I can’t believe you still like her after she betrayed Don Ice.”

“I can’t help it. I love her storyline,” he shot back, his eyes searching hers.

Undeterred, Betty thrust out her chin. “And I love –“

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Toni said. “You two are trapped in a bubble of love.”

They both turned, blushing, to the door.

“Sorry to interrupt the futile flirting, but I forgot my notes,” Toni said, walking towards the couch. She held up a notebook and shook it at them. “Just kiss her already Jones, or I will. And since the last time that happened I ended up going to prom with your girlfriend...”

“She’s right, you know” Betty said when Toni left.

Jughead cleared his throat. “About which part?”

“You should kiss me.”

“I –“

Whatever his protestations might have been, Jughead smartly decided to ignore them. Instead, he leaned towards Betty, who happily met him more than half-way.

A few months later, when Jughead claimed their first date was at a Play of Chairs release party, Betty couldn’t help but cover a laugh. She loved that he was technically correct, even if it was only a party of two.

*(No, I do not know how printing works, nor do I care enough to Google this or other characters from the series. Apologies if I’m wrong. If I am, just pretend they’re talking about Minecraft.)

#bughead #riverdale #prompt fic

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beesweatercas · 4 years ago

Note

Why dont u like 15x20? Full explanation please haha akkhckskf

Wow you just like playing with fire huh well dear since you asked:

Cw: su!cide, mental illness

1) Destiel aside, it was really ooc for Dean to just be like “yeah it sucks that Cas and Jack aren’t here but you know you just gotta move on :/”. We’ve seen how he reacts when someone close to him passes away, whether it’s Sam and he overdoses on medicine (Red Meat) or sells his soul, or it’s Cas and he drinks excessively and generally gets extremely depressed. Being all cheery and talking about moving on is not only a red flag for someone contemplating suicide, it’s just so out of character for Dean.

2) The blurry wife. Um. Really. I know it was meant so it was “open for interpretation” but that’s really just a fancy way of excusing misogyny.

3) The wig. If you’re going to give Sam that ending, at least do it respectably. Sam’s ending was alright, in theory, but the way it was done by making his wife blurry and naming his son Dean and the whole montage was just ridiculous imo. If they showed it better it would’ve been okay.

4)The fact that when Sam died he was surrounded by pictures of his blood family. No Cas, no Jack, hell, no pictures of his blurry wife that he loved so dearly. For a show that had a main message of “family don’t end in blood,” that was a crappy way to end Sam’s character.

5) Dean has been suicidal for a long time, and killing him off when he’s finally “happy” isn’t giving him peace or giving him the ending he wanted. If you’re going to go ahead and say that he’s gotten over Cas’s death and Jack’s absence, fine, but that would mean that Dean was content with his life. Why would he want to die when he’s happy and free? He canonically had a job application on his desk, so it’s clear that he didn’t want to go just yet, and even if he did, he wanted to at least get another shot at normal. This isn’t The Good Place where a character chooses to die when they’re happiest and at peace, this is Earth and that is not a message you want to send to human beings who are alive right now. It’s not like Dean was 90 years old and had enough of life, he was in his 40s. Who knows what could’ve happened if he had gotten the chance to live the way he wanted. And also just... a nail to the back, really, wooow. Plus Sam totally could have prayed to Jack to save him, so there were definitely ways to prevent Dean’s death and simply choosing not to use those options was ooc and sends a bad message to all people struggling with mental illness.

6) Agent Bon Jovi. Yes the idea was cool and all but come on they could’ve chosen a name that doesn’t sound funny. It killed the mood.

7) If you really think the plot of the finale was good, sure, you’re entitled to your opinion. But really take a look and think about the way it was done. The whole thing was 3 montages, a death scene, and a monster of the week plot line. I know the motw thing is their classic go-to, but for a finale I just expected something more. Also let’s not forget how they played carry on wayward son and then IMMEDIATELY followed with a COVER of carry on wayward son. Please-

8) Also following up on the Dean dying thing: Dean canonically, explicitly, wanted a big funeral with “open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.” Sure, he was joking around a bit when he said that, but it was a hyperbole, an exaggeration, which means that he stretched what he meant to say, and he did want a funeral that was still meaningful and cool. What did he get? His brother and dog watching miserably as his body burns. It’s not like there weren’t friends of his that were still alive and able to come say goodbye. Do people really think Claire, Garth, Eileen, Jody, Donna, and more wouldn’t want to attend Dean Winchester’s funeral?? At the very LEAST they could’ve had Jack come down from Heaven for a few moments.

9) Not really the finale but it’s continued from 15x19: A TODDLER IS GOD. Jack should’ve had the chance to be a kid. Despite his appearances and powers, he’s still new to the world. He’ll make mistakes, just like he did before he was god, but those mistakes will have even greater consequences. I know that was where the story was going and there wasn’t really a way around it, but it just leaves a bitter taste.

10) Not even for destiel reasons, but just the fact that Dean didn’t even talk about Cas’s death. Even if he told Sam about it and said he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings, at least he would have said SOMETHING. “He saved me” isn’t enough, I’m sorry. That’s the reason Cas’s death fits the bury your gays trope; not because Cas came out and died, but because he was practically erased after that.

11) The lack of characters. Go ahead and claim corona restrictions all damn day, there was still a shot at the end with the entire cast and crew smushed together on a bridge. Mask-less. I’m sure there were a few actors who would’ve felt comfortable enough to be in the finale. If schools are able to be open with thousands of kids spreading germs everywhere and endangering each other as well as the teachers, then a show can have like 3 people added to the set for a few scenes.

12) John is with Bobby and Dean in heaven?? THEE abusive John Winchester?? You really think Dean will feel safe with his abusive father right around the corner?? You really think SAM is happy about that?? Bobby wouldn’t stand for that either! They tried to redeem John and his behavior, and that’s honestly inexcusable, that man has no right to be anywhere near those boys.

13) 15 years of character development? I don’t know her <3

14) Bringing back Jenny was pointless I’m sorry it really was, I didn’t even remember her and they killed her off 0.2 seconds after revealing her. I-

15) Might I add that if only 30% of your audience enjoys the finale, you aren’t doing your job correctly lmao

So yeah. If you’d like me to elaborate on any of these points feel free to send me an ask, dm me, or reply to this post. If you’d like to argue with me, feel free to do that too.

#asks #banananon #spn #supernatural #spn finale #spn 15x20 #kat rants #long post

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hazelcmist · 4 years ago

Text

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!”

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat.

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented.

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks.

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs.

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.”

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.”

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down.

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather.

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse.

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything.

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#31 days of ficmas #doctorroseprompts #fic and chips #my writing

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

Text

Rescue Me

Summary: The reader has been feeling less and less like herself lately and has come to the conclusion that no one should bother caring for her. After having a confrontation with Dean, he’s determined to show her how much he does...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of depression

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo

____

“Hey,” said Dean, whistling when he saw you leave your room. He cocked his head, looking you over. “You feeling okay?”

“It’s a hoodie,” you said, glaring at him. “What? I have to use the bathroom.”

“I was doing a supply run. You didn’t write anything down on the list,” he said as he held it up.

“I don’t need anything,” you said, Dean staring at you still. “What?”

“Okay...” he said. “I’ll be back later. Sam ran out to help Donna with a hunt. Should be back tomorrow.”

“Fine,” you said, walking across the hall and into the bathroom. You sighed when you shut the door, wiping your face with your sleeve. You took a deep breath and went over to the sink. You stared at your face wash, blinking a few times before you went to the closet. You opened it up just in time to hear the door open behind you. “What do you want Dean?”

“I cleaned the bathrooms this morning while you were sleeping,” he said.

“I can clean my own bathroom,” you snapped at him, Dean lifting his chin when you spun around.

“I thought I’d be nice. I noticed his place is untouched. Your shampoo has dust on it,” he said.

“So? This place is a million years old.”

“You wear the same shirt and sweatpants everyday for weeks now. You’re barely eating. You barely leave your room,” he said.

“So?”

“So what is wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said. You rolled your eyes at him, Dean holding his ground. “Fine. I’ll go shopping if you won’t.”

You tried to snatch the list out of his hand but he caught your wrist.

“The hoodie’s new. Why,” he asked. You stared him down as he pushed the sleeve down, his eyes shutting.

“You think I cut myself?” you said, pushing up your other sleeve, showing him your bare arms. “Satisfied?”

“You’re still hurting yourself,” he said.

“Dean. Go to the store. I am fine. I promise.”

“Is this what we call fine? Trying to run away while I’m gone?” asked Dean, climbing out of Baby from where he’d parked her on the side of the road. You kept on walking, hands in your hoodie and out of the fall air. “I messed with your car you know.”

“Obviously,” you said, continuing to walk until he jogged and caught up with you.

“If you want to leave, that’s your choice. But not like this. Not because you won’t let me help you.”

“Why do you even care?” you said.

“Because I care about you.”

“Why? Why? I mean, really,” you said, throwing up your arms. “What’s so fucking special about me?”

“Y/N-”

“Nobody gives a shit about me including you. So leave me alone. Stay away from me,” you said as you started to walk away.

“Y/N, that is not true,” he said, grabbing the top of your backpack. You glared over your shoulder and slipped out of it, running away before he knew what happened. “Y/N!”

You found a park the next town over by the time it was dark out. A bench wasn’t ideal but you’d left your cash in your bag. You found one up on a bridge that probably looked quite beautiful in the day with all of the trees full of yellow and orange leaves and the calm river below.

“Y/N,” you heard from the darkness. You flinched where you were seated, pulling your hood back to spot Dean kneeling down in front of you.

“How-”

“I give a shit about you,” he said. “I give a shit so don’t tell me I don’t. I am taking you home and we are going to help you.”

“You can’t fix this, Dean. It’s my head. It’s not a monster to hunt. It’s just me.”

“No. It is a monster. It’s lying to you. People care about you. People love you. I love you. So don’t you dare leave,” he said. You glanced down, Dean grabbing your chin. “Promise me.”

“I-”

“Promise you won’t leave.”

“It already feels like I left,” you said, looking away, swallowing to try and stop any tears that might come. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can promise that.”

“Promise you’ll try,” he said, cupping your cheek. “Please. Please, Y/N.”

“I’m tired of trying, Dean,” you said.

“Then I’m going with you. Wherever you want to runaway, I’ll go with you,” he said.

“It’s not just a physical thing, Dean,” you said, resting your hand over his. “I want you to go home.”

“No.”

“I want you to go home, forget about me and deal with all of the other hundred million things you have going on. Try to find a nice girl someday, some nice normal girl,” you said.

“I found one. I’m looking right at her. I’m on the most important case of my life right now and it’ll be the last one I ever work so help me,” he said.

“Then go to your case, Dean,” you said.

“You’re my case. You know me, I don’t quit one, no matter what. So you get used to seeing me by your side cause I’m in this for the long haul,” he said.

“You don’t-”

“I love you, damnit. I know you don’t believe me, and it’s breaking my fucking heart, but I love you. Your family loves you. I would die for you, every single time. I want you to be safe and happy and healthy. You’re not. So you and I are going to find a way to help you get there if it’s the last fucking thing I ever do,” he said.

You stared at him, Dean sniffling his nose. You put your hand on his cheek and wiped away the wetness there, Dean looking two seconds away from begging.

“I’m hungry,” you said quietly.

“Okay, we’ll get you some food,” he said with a half smile. He grabbed your hand as you stood up, shrugging out of his jacket before he threw it on your shoulders. “You want a burger? Mexican? Anything at all, your choice.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. Dean shushed you as you dropped your head, quickly wrapping himself around you.

“It’s alright. Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he said, keeping you close as you started to wet his shirt. “Shh, you’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“How’s she doing?” you heard outside your room the next morning. You felt tired and groggy, Dean’s jacket still on you. You sniffled and sat up, exiting to find Sam and Dean outside your room. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sam,” you said. “Dean told you about yesterday I’m guessing.”

“Sammy and I decided this morning, we’re taking a break from hunting. We all need one and we want to be home, for all of us,” said Dean.

“You mean to babysit me,” you said, scratching at your throat.

“No. To be with you. You didn’t believe me last night. I still don’t think you do. But we care about you and I was serious when I said we’ll figure this out,” said Dean.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be like babysitting,” you said.

“Because you probably won’t like us very much for a little while,” said Sam.

“First things first,” said Dean. “You’re going to go take a shower and clean yourself up.”

“See? Now you’re worried,” you sighed, spinning away when you felt two pairs of hands on you.

“When you love someone, you worry about them,” said Dean. You lowered your head and let them guide you into the bathroom, Sam excusing himself as Dean readied up the shower for you. “Alright. I’ll get you some clean clothes and some fresh sheets on your bed.”

“Okay.”

“Your room is off limits. No hiding in there today,” he said. “You want to hide somewhere else, okay. But your room is off limits. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said quietly, looking through your lashes at him. “You think-”

“I think you should take your shower and then we’ll get some breakfast in you,” he said, walking over and kissing your forehead. “For me?”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a small nod.

“Take as long as you want,” he said, pulling the door shut after himself. You sighed and took off your clothes, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was greasy and messy. Your skin looked off color. Everything needed to be shaved. Nails cut. Eyebrows plucked.

You looked ill and fragile and what had you done to yourself?

“Y/N,” you heard Dean outside the door after a few wracks left your body. “I got some clothes out here for you. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

You took a deep breath and wiped off your face, heading into the showers.

You were extra pruny when you finished, Dean eventually coming in when you were drying your hair.

“Want any help?” he asked. You nodded your head and he gave you a smile.

“Can you help?” you asked, holding up the dryer. He hummed and took it from you.

He seemed so happy to get to dry some hair. You weren’t sure he’d ever really done it before but it freed up your hands to fix your eyebrows and he was so gentle you felt okay for a few seconds.

“All done?” he asked when you reached behind you to turn it off.

“Yeah,” you said, giving him half a smile.

“Nice and clean,” he said, bending down and scooping you up.

“Dean.”

“Let’s find the greasiest thing we can,” he said. You ducked your head down but he held onto you until he set you down in the kitchen. He hummed as he started to cook, Sam ducking in and out a few times with cleaning supplies.

“You guys don’t-”

“Remember that time you were super sick and we wore you down until you let us take care of you? This is kind of like that except semi-permanent so get used to it,” he said. “Waffles with extra whipped cream, extra bacon and a Dean Winchester classic, the spicy sriacha omelette. Dig in.”

You ate half of what he put in front of you, not that you could manage it all. You wanted to but Dean said you’d not get so full so fast once you started to eat more again. You wanted to go lie down in your bed but he dragged you along to the library, instead allowing you to hangout on the couch they’d put in the back corner.

“Alright. I was thinking we could watch a little TV and then you can come with me on the supply run. We can grab lunch on the way home,” he said. “Sound good?”

“Whatever.”

“Hey,” said Dean when you started to yawn that night in the library. “Want to head to bed?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Alright. Your clothes in a spare room. You’re bunking with me tonight,” he said. You tilted your head, Dean smiling. “Sammy’s working on a little project for you. Besides, I want cuddles.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup. So change and then head into my room,” he said. You scrunched up your face but went to the empty room near his own, your dresser in there full of your things. You changed and wandered over to your own room, the door locked.

Dean tsked you and you sighed, heading into his room. He let you crawl under the covers while he used a blanket for himself on top.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, turning off the light. You looked back over your shoulder at him, Dean settling down into his pillows. “Need something?”

“No,” you said, turning away. You were still, waiting for him to fall asleep. He never quite did though and you knew he’d stay up all night if he had to. Closing your eyes, you scooted closer to him and grabbed one of his hands, pulling his arm around you to your chest.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

“Good morning,” you said, Dean raising an eyebrow when he wandered into the kitchen. “I made breakfast.”

“I could have gotten that,” he said.

“Dean. I’m depressed. I ain’t dead,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “You’re in your workout clothes.”

“I was thinking of going for a walk in the park. I’m not much in the mood for running and you know how Sam is about making sure I get outside everyday,” you said.

“Can I come?” he asked. “On your walk.”

“Sure. It’s kind of cool out so wear a jacket or something.”

“I wasn’t trying to sound inconsiderate earlier, at breakfast,” said Dean an hour later, walking side by side with you on one of the walking trails.

“About what?”

“About being depressed. I wasn’t...I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s not just being sad. Sometimes you’re not even sad,” you said.

“Yeah. I know,” he said. You were quiet, looking at some of the falling leaves as you walked.

“How do you deal with it?” you asked.

“My family. I have a really big family actually. All of my friends, people I’ve met. Some are still around, some aren’t, but I have a family, even if I don’t see them anymore or all that often. It’s a lot harder to care about yourself if you don’t think anyone cares about you,” he said. “I used to think I was alone. Even...there’s been times when I thought even Sam hated me. But I was wrong. It ain’t pretty and we don’t have holidays or birthday parties or cookouts in the summer. But I have a family. You have one too.”

“Who exactly is in my family?” you asked.

“I am. Sam is,” he said. “Maybe Sam’s not your actual brother but he is your brother.”

“You my brother too?” you asked. He looked away, only turning back when you nudged him.

“No, I’m not like your brother. I think we both know that,” he said. He gave you a soft smile, pausing on the trail. “This isn’t the right time for that though. I want you to feel better before we even talk about that.”

“Why do you like me?” you asked. “I’m kind of a miserable person.”

“Again, that’s the way you see yourself. It’s not how I see you, how the world sees you,” he said.

“What do you see?”

“Kindness. Compassion. Courage. Wit. Intelligence. Strength. Grace. Beauty. Hope. Happiness,” he said.

“I’m none of those things,” you said.

“You’re all of those things. You’ve been letting yourself listen to the lies floating through your head for so long, I get that it’s hard to believe. I do. I’m not even asking you to believe that about yourself yet. All I want it you to promise you’ll try,” he said.

“I can try,” you said. “I am trying.”

“I know you are. I’m so proud of you for trying too,” he said.

“So if you don’t like me like I’m your sister, then what kind of family are we?” you asked.

“The kind that loves each other,” he said as he started to walk again. You kept up your pace with him, glancing down to his free hand and lacing it together with yours. “What are you doing?”

“Trying. Trusting,” you said. He gave it a squeeze, nodding his head once.

“You can trust me, Y/N. Always.”

Two Weeks Later

“Dean,” you groaned, finding him in his room listening to some music. “Dean.”

He pulled off his headphones, giving you a smile.

“What’s up sweetheart?”

“I can’t find my armband,” you said. “You know, to shove my phone in when I go running. It’s got to be in my room which I am still not allowed in.”

“Where is it?” he asked.

“My top desk drawer,” you said. “Not that I don’t love sharing a room with you cause I really do love sleeping with you and you’re my boyfriend now and I love that too but I’m kind of tired of asking you or Sam for stuff all the time.”

“We know. Your surprise is almost done if you can hold off until tonight when Sam gets back,” said Dean. “I promise.”

“Alright,” you said.

“Hey and uh, be careful,” said Dean. “Don’t talk to sketchy guys.”

“I know, worry wort,” you said as he stood up. “I uh...I was on my computer earlier and there’s this car show on the weekend not too far away. I thought you know, it’d be fun to go to.”

“I’d love to. I actually saw that myself. There’s this huge family owned bookstore in that town too. I thought maybe we could swing by on the way back,” he said.

“Yeah, that’d be awesome,” you said, Dean flashing you a big smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Be safe at the park, sweetheart.”

“That clay mask you picked up feels so good on your face,” you said after your shower that afternoon. Dean hummed from the couch, tilting his head back with a laugh. “It’s got to stay on for ten minutes!”

“Oh, I’m loving this look on you,” he laughed.

“I bet you’d look just as amazing,” you teased. He stood up and left, returning two minutes later with a covered face. “Oh my God. You did not.”

“You think you’re the only one in this house getting exfoliated skin?” he said, sitting back down besides you. “Oh, it’s a little tingly. I like it.”

“Having a little spa day?” you laughed.

“We should totally go to a spa!” he said. You giggled and he whacked your leg. “I’m serious. I’d be down for a massage.”

“Can I give you a foot massage?” you asked.

“Please do.”

You held up a finger and jogged to the bathroom, grabbing a tube of lotion and having Dean kick his feet up in your lap when you returned.

“Hmm,” he hummed, sinking back into the couch as you started to rub his feet. “Shit, that feels good.”

“Good cause there’s something I wanted to talk to you and Sam about,” you said.

“Shoot.”

“I know things got pretty rough for me and I needed both of you guys to take over and take care of me. I needed that. But I’m starting to feel a bit better. I’m reminding myself more to not believe every negative thing that pops into my head and to take a step back. I’m...better. I’m taking care of myself again too and I know you guys know it. But we’re a family and families take care of each other. I want you both to start letting me do things for everyone again. Let me make dinner for everyone, do the laundry, give you a massage. I’m grateful that you both took the load off of me when I needed it. Let me carry some again is all I’m asking.”

“I will agree on one condition,” he said.

“Yes?”

“You talk to us if you feel like you’re heading the other direction again.”

“Yeah, of course. Or if you think I’m getting off. But I can do that for you guys too,” you said.

“I’m okay with that,” he said. He looked behind you when the bunker door opened, Sam walking down carrying some groceries. “Y/N’s itching to see her room, Sammy.”

“Alright. We can...” trailed off Sam, staring at Dean. “What is that?”

“It’s called a clay mask,” said Dean. “It tingles.”

“I’m sorry but nothing will help your horrifically ugly face,” said Sam.

“Sam,” you said.

“Give me a few minutes and then we can check out your room,” he said.

Ten minutes and clean faces later, you were standing outside your room, both of them smirking.

“Hey. Before you go in-”

“I’m not going to hide away in there anymore. I promise,” you said.

“Okay. Head on in then,” said Sam.

You opened the door, blinking more than a few times as you stepped in and looked around.

It was completely renovated and twice the size. It looked like there was a real walk in closet now and you were fairly certain they’d knocked down a wall between your room and the one beside it.

They’d white washed the brick wall and put up some pretty wood shelves. There was no cement floor anymore. Now there was a light wood laminate with a large area rug. All of the old furniture was gone, replaced with new and updated things. Even the ceiling now had wood planks on top.

It looked like a master bedroom out of some home magazine.

“We figured you should have your own space, a place you can relax and feel good. We wanted this to be your home,” said Dean.

“We guessed on a few things and may have hacked your computer a bit but we thought you’d like it,” said Sam.

“It’s gorgeous,” you said, spinning around with a smile. “Like this is way too-”

“It’s not too much of anything,” said Sam. “Trust us.”

“Turns out, we’re actually not half bad at construction work,” said Dean.

“We wanted you to have a place you can feel at ease,” said Sam.

“I love it, guys. It’s perfect,” you said.

“And you got upgraded to a king size bed. Just saying,” said Dean with a smile.

“You know, I love the bunker but...we could maybe renovate some more stuff,” you said. “Not like an overhaul or anything. Maybe just a bit.”

“We were thinking something similar,” said Sam.

“We can talk more about that stuff later. For now just enjoy your room, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” said Dean, knocking on your door that night as you finished putting some books on your new bookcase. “How’s the room treating you?”

“It’s awesome. It feels very...spa like,” you said.

“That’s what we were going for,” he said, leaning against your doorframe. “Someplace to unwind at the end of the day.”

“Dean? Would you maybe want to...sleep in my room tonight?” you asked.

“With your new memory foam bed? Uh, duh,” he said. You cocked your head, Dean nodding his. “And of course there’s you.”

“I noticed my closet is pretty big,” you said. “This room is pretty big. Big enough for two people to share.”

“Maybe in the future, you’ll be sharing it with someone,” he said, biting back his smile. You smiled and finished with your books, joining Dean on the bed a moment later. The sheets were soft and new as you climbed under, Dean letting out a big sigh when he plopped under with you.

“Dean,” you said, rolling over in bed. He hummed and turned to his side, propping his head up with his one hand, using the other to brush the hair out of your face.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asked.

“I care about you too,” you said. He smiled, leaning forward to peck a kiss to your lips.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said. He rested his head on the pillow, his whole body more relaxed than you’d seen in months. “Want me to turn up the heat? I know you like a warm room to sleep in.”

“I’ll get it,” you said. You got out of bed and left the room, coming back less than a minute later. Dean smiled but didn’t say anything as you got back under the covers. “You don’t mind if I wear your hoodie, do you?”

“No. Not at all,” he said.

“It smells like you,” you said, nuzzling down into it. “It feels nice.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said. He kissed your forehead and you grabbed his arm, resting it over your waist as you closed your eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

_____

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